The wind rose abruptly, sending a thousand leaves whirling across the training ground, as chaotic and unpredictable as the course of fate.
Shinji gazed at the Clan Blade in his hand, its cold gleam reflecting eyes that had held a trace of detachment and calculation ever since his rebirth. What pressed against his palm was no longer merely the weight of metal, but his father's weighty question-a challenge to his very soul about what he fought for, far more difficult than mastering any ninjutsu.
He suddenly realized that relying solely on the talent granted by the system, without truly delving into and mastering his own abilities, might not be enough to give his blade the power to sever the shackles of fate.
At that moment, warm gold washed over the training ground, and the father and son's figures seemed frozen within its glow. Shinji had no idea that this twilight, filled with guidance and affection, might hold his father's final words of wisdom to him.
A few days later, Shinobi World History Class at the Ninja Academy continued in its usual quiet-or rather, tedium.
The classroom air hung stagnant until an ANBU operative wearing an animal mask, an icy aura radiating from him, appeared soundlessly at the door like a ghost. He exchanged a few quiet words with the teacher.
The color instantly drained from Umino Kakumatsu's face. Her gaze swept across the classroom, filled with conflicting emotions, before finally settling on Shinji Uchiha with a pity she could not conceal.
"Shinji Uchiha," the teacher said, her voice trembling uncontrollably, "please... please step outside."
The entire classroom fell deathly silent. Every gaze, curious, puzzled, or worried, turned toward Shinji at once. Minato and Kushina looked at him too, their eyes filled with shock and unease.
Shinji's heart clenched. A bone-chilling