The night wind howled, sweeping up the lingering dust and scorched smell from the commercial district.
An unprecedented sight since the village's founding was unfolding on Hidden Leaf's streets. A long dragon of torches advanced down the main road in grand formation toward the Hokage Building, the heart of the village's power.
At the very front of the procession walked Senju Sosuke, dressed in white. His pace was unhurried, his wide haori snapping in the night wind. There was not a ripple in his deep black eyes, while a section of emerald-green vine slithered and coiled obediently around his slender fingers like a tame little snake.
To his left stood fifty Senju Shadow Guards clad in black cloaks and wearing Asura masks. They made no unnecessary sound, yet the cold, ruthless killing intent of those who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood froze the surrounding air.
To his right were more than a hundred fully armed elites from the Uchiha Police Force. Uchiha Fugaku followed closely half a step behind Sosuke, his back ramrod straight. His scarlet three-tomoe Sharingan spun in the night, and unprecedented excitement surged through Fugaku's heart.
Once upon a time, the Uchiha clan had always been ostracized in Hidden Leaf. Whenever they walked the streets, they were met mostly with guarded and hateful looks from the civilians. But tonight was different.
Behind this armed force followed tens of thousands of Hidden Leaf civilians. They held torches, farm tools, and even kitchen knives aloft, furiously shouting slogans demanding the severe punishment of Root and the higher-ups. They looked at Sosuke's back as though gazing upon a god descended into the world. Even their gazes toward the Uchiha Police Force were, for the first time ever, filled with approval and trust.
"Is this...