What does it really mean to revive the Uchiha Clan?

The images on the Sky Screen shifted, finally settling on a hideout.

Orochimaru was deathly pale and in terrible condition, clearly gravely injured.

Yet even with his severe injuries, when his narrow eyes fell on Sasuke as he slowly entered the base, they still blazed with an almost obsessive hunger.

He stared fixedly at this perfect Uchiha vessel for a long time before gently shaking his head and speaking with a trace of regret. "Sasuke, you're too late."

Standing where he was, Sasuke remained ice-cold, his voice utterly flat as he explained, "I was held up a little on the way."

Clearly, Sasuke had misunderstood what Orochimaru meant.

Orochimaru waved dismissively, a soft, sinister smile curling across his eerie face. "No matter."

"A little late is fine. I can still afford to wait three years."

Sasuke frowned slightly at those words, confusion filling his eyes. He had no idea what Orochimaru was implying.

Looking at the boy's pure thirst for power, Orochimaru slowly laid out his plan. "For the next three years, I will train you personally."

"Ninjutsu, taijutsu, chakra control, and combat to the death. I will draw on all my experience to help you transform completely."

"How far you grow and what power you gain will depend entirely on your own talent and effort."

Those few words instantly struck the obsession buried deepest in Sasuke's heart.

Everything no one in Konoha could give me, this man has.

His long-suppressed, frenzied pursuit of power erupted all at once. A blazing light flared in Sasuke's eyes, and his voice was utterly resolute. "I couldn't ask for more!"

He had never wanted safety, bonds, or Konoha's warmth.

What he wanted was absolute power-enough to kill Uchiha Itachi with his own hands three years from now!

The images on the Sky Screen jumped rapidly again, flashing through day after day.

In the days that followed, Orochimaru devoted himself wholeheartedly to training Sasuke.

Unlike Konoha's gentle, structured instruction, Orochimaru's methods were far more brutal, honing him on the edge between life and death.

Grueling physical conditioning, ninjutsu practice, mastering the power of the Cursed Seal, and special training in lethal combat filled every day of Sasuke's life.

Sasuke was already strong-willed and exceptionally gifted. With Orochimaru's meticulous guidance, his strength skyrocketed at a visibly astonishing rate.

In that dark base, Sasuke also gradually met a number of Orochimaru's subordinates.

Karin, Jūgo, and Suigetsu.

The years hurried by, passing in the blink of an eye.

As the images on the Sky Screen slowly shifted, the once-inexperienced, stubborn boy had shed his youthful immaturity and grown fully into a man.

Sasuke Uchiha now stood tall, his face cold and handsome, his features carrying the icy edge forged through trials in the darkness.

Orochimaru's treatment had completely restored his damaged left arm. Both arms were whole, his physique flawless, and his presence sharp and intimidating.

The secret chamber was dim and still.

Orochimaru, once sinister and domineering, lay quietly on the bed, his body increasingly thin and frail, long stripped of his former arrogance.

Sasuke walked slowly into the chamber, his expression indifferent. "When do I begin more advanced training?"

After three years together, he cared only about improving his strength, utterly indifferent to Orochimaru's physical condition.

Looking at his cold, distant demeanor, Orochimaru gave a weak chuckle, his voice tinged with reflection. "Still... as cold as ever, Sasuke."

Sasuke's brow abruptly furrowed. Without another word, he turned to leave, unwilling to waste even a moment of training time.

Just as he moved, Orochimaru's voice drifted out, light and soft, yet catching precisely on the obsession buried deep in Sasuke's heart:

"Sasuke, have you ever considered how to truly revive the Uchiha Clan?"

That simple question instantly stopped Sasuke in his tracks.

He halted abruptly, his straight back taut. After two seconds of silence, he spoke with overwhelming killing intent, every word ringing firm:

"Kill Itachi. Then reach the pinnacle of the Shinobi World and become the strongest."

"That way, the whole world will know the Uchiha's power!"

This had been his sole goal for years, and what he believed was the only path to reviving the Uchiha.

On the bed, Orochimaru slowly curled his lips into a faint smile, carrying both insight and mockery. "You're too naive, Sasuke."

Sasuke turned at his words, his black eyes locking onto the frail Orochimaru, filled with confusion.

He considered his path beyond reproach, but now he wanted to hear what Orochimaru had to say.

With his breath faint, Orochimaru spoke slowly, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "After you kill Uchiha Itachi with your own hands, who will be left of the once-great Uchiha Clan?"

Sasuke raised his hand and gently brushed his fully restored left arm. Killing intent chilled his eyes as he answered with certainty, "On the night of the massacre, one other person survived besides me."

Orochimaru nodded slightly, then shifted his approach, his tone growing deeper and sharper as he shattered Sasuke's narrow obsession:

"Even so, Sasuke."

"Even if you give everything to become the undisputed strongest in the Shinobi World, roaming the world without an equal."

"A few decades will pass in the blink of an eye. Your lifespan will run out. Eventually, you will grow old and die."

"When that time comes, will there still be any Uchiha in this Shinobi World?"

"If the Uchiha are gone, how can you call that a revival?"

Boom!

Those words struck Sasuke's heart like a thunderclap.

His expression changed abruptly, his pupils contracted slightly, and his whole body went rigid.

All these years, his heart and mind had held nothing but revenge, growing stronger, and surpassing everything.

He had thought killing Itachi and becoming the strongest would wash away the Uchiha's humiliation and revive the clan.

Yet he had never considered that one person's strength was not the same as a clan's prosperity.

Before Sasuke could recover, Orochimaru's long, slender tongue lightly licked the corner of his lips. His soft, sinister voice sounded again, every sentence cutting deep:

"Let me put it another way."

"Suppose a handful of Uchiha clan members do happen to remain in this world."

"That would be the bloodline they preserved themselves, the chance at survival they earned themselves."

"What would that have to do with your unrivaled strength, your illustrious reputation, or your lifelong obsession?"

"Could you truly claim to have revived the Uchiha Clan?"

At that moment, fine beads of cold sweat sprang up on Sasuke's forehead and slowly trickled down the side of his face.

The blood in his body seemed almost frozen, and his mind went blank.

He had always believed he was on the right path to reviving his clan, plunging into darkness with everything he had and abandoning every bond.

Yet in the end, his obsession was so flimsy, so one-sided, so easily shattered.

The secret chamber fell utterly silent.

For the first time, the cold, forceful Sasuke Uchiha sank into complete silence, his mind violently shaken, unable to speak for a long time.

Beyond the Sky Screen, the entire Shinobi World erupted, heated discussions rising one after another.

"My god! Orochimaru hit the nail on the head! He exposed Sasuke's biggest misconception outright!"