Darkened Huang Xiaoming

Sasuke clenched his fists. He looked at Itachi and saw an expression he had never witnessed on his brother's face before.

That older brother who was forever composed, forever correct, and forever had everything arranged was now like a tower whose foundation had been hollowed out, ready to collapse at any moment.

"Brother," Sasuke called out.

Itachi raised his head. In his eyes, that pair of Mangekyō Sharingan was slowly dimming, and his body was swaying precariously.

"I'm tired," Itachi said.

Then he collapsed—not struck by an attack, not caught in an illusion, but falling under his own weight.

The Kotoamatsukami illusion inside his body had been secretly rewritten by Naruto. The beliefs he had relied on for so long, those self-consistent logics woven with the premise of everything for Konoha, were being pulled out one by one by the truth Shisui presented. He could no longer hold on.

Itachi collapsed to the ground and coughed up a mouthful of blood. The blood was black, carrying the scent of Hashirama Cells.

"The Kotoamatsukami inside you was altered by me to protect Naruto long ago," Naruto stood before him, looking down at the Uchiha who had once won his utmost respect. "This was Shisui's request. He said you carried too much, and it was time for someone else to bear a part of it."

Sasuke rushed to Itachi's side, kneeling down to prop him up. He looked up at Naruto, his Mangekyō eyes holding anger, confusion, and hesitation.

"Just how much of a bastard are you going to be!" Sasuke roared.

Naruto looked at him.

"Your dad, your mom, and your clansmen died in the high-ranking conspiracies of Konoha. Your brother was treated as a blade, ready to be thrown away the moment he was used up. And you? You've lived