From atop the colossal form of Hashirama's statue, I watched.

The Uchiha compound lay beneath me, its intricate layout illuminated by the dim glow of paper lanterns. A village within a village. Grand estates, training grounds, ancestral shrines-every building a monument to their pride.

And tonight, it would become their graveyard.

A single figure moved through the compound with ghost-like precision. I followed his silhouette as he flickered between houses, slipping past doorways, stepping over thresholds, moving with an unshakable resolve.

Itachi Uchiha.

But tonight, Itachi was not an heir. Not a brother. Not a son.

Tonight, he was an executioner.

For the good of the village.

What would it take for someone to slaughter their own bloodline in the name of peace?

Itachi moved to the next house. A child barely older than six peeked from behind a doorframe. Itachi's blade flashed once, and the boy collapsed without a sound.

And then, another shadow appeared.

A blur.

He was using body flicker but his movements we're unnatural. He was entering a certain house and exists another one in a matter of seconds.

Not Itachi. Someone else.

This one went for the high-ranking Uchiha. The clan elders. The war veterans. Those who would have put up the greatest resistance.

Who?

Shisui? No. That was improbable. Danzo had taken his eye. And if Danzo had truly cornered him, Shisui would not be here now.

Then, who?

Interesting.

----

The Uchiha compound was silent.

Blood soaked the ground, the coppery scent thick in the cold night air. Bodies lay sprawled across the streets and within their homes.

Through the darkened streets, the ANBU Black Ops moved like specters, their silent forms flitting between the bodies, searching for any sign of life.

One of them, a masked shinobi with long white hair, kneeled beside a fallen Uchiha, his gloved fingers pressing against the man's throat. No pulse. Just like the others.

The stillness was only broken by hushed voices.

"This is horrible," one ANBU whispered, their voice barely audible beneath their mask. "An entire clan... wiped out in a single night."

The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, stood in the heart of the carnage, his wrinkled face shadowed beneath his hat. His usual calm, composed demeanor was shattered. He looked upon the devastation with visible grief, his hands clenched behind his back.

"Search for survivors," Hiruzen ordered, his voice low but firm.

The ANBU immediately moved.

It wasn't long before a cry rang out.

"We found one!"

Several shinobi gathered as the unconscious form of Sasuke Uchiha was discovered inside one of the houses, his small frame curled on the floor. His breathing was shallow, his body trembling even in his sleep.

Hiruzen's eyes softened with sorrow.

"Take him to the medical unit," he commanded. "Ensure he receives the best care. Immediately."

Two ANBU carefully lifted the boy and vanished in a blur.

The white-haired ANBU with the fox mask stood beside another operative wearing a kitsune mask, both surveying the remains of the fallen clan.

"Everyone else is dead," the fox-masked ANBU confirmed. His voice, though steady, carried a rare edge of unease.

The kitsune-masked ANBU turned to him. "Who could have done something like this?"

A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the empty compound.

From the shadows emerged a figure draped in heavy robes, a cane tapping against the stone pathway. His right eye was concealed by bandages, his face set in an impassive scowl.

"Itachi Uchiha," Danzo stated coldly. "He despised his clan and executed them all without hesitation."

The white-haired ANBU turned sharply, his disbelief evident even behind his mask. "Why would he do this?"

Danzo stepped closer, his one visible eye sharp and calculating. He leaned slightly toward Hiruzen, lowering his voice.

"This settles everything," he murmured.

Hiruzen's eyes narrowed.

Before he could respond, a blur of movement caught everyone's attention.

An ANBU operative dashed toward them at full speed, his breath ragged, his body slick with sweat. He skidded to a stop, barely able to compose himself. His hands trembled as he saluted.

"My Lord Hokage...! We have-another situation."

A tense silence gripped the air.

Hiruzen's expression darkened. "Speak."

The ANBU swallowed hard. "Hiashi Hyuga has been assassinated."

The air froze.

Danzo's breath hitched. Even Hiruzen, a man who had faced countless wars, paled.

The white-haired and kitsune-masked ANBU both stiffened, their muscles locked in place as if their bodies refused to believe what they had just heard.

Hiruzen's shock transformed into rage.

"WHAT?!" His voice thundered, his emotions finally breaking through the weight of the night. He turned to Danzo, eyes blazing with fury. "WHAT IS HAPPENING, DANZO?!"

Danzo kept his face impassive, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed his expression. "Who was responsible?" he demanded.

The ANBU officer hesitated before answering. "The Hyuga clan members claim that a masked man... with a smiling mask... infiltrated the compound, killed Hiashi Hyuga, stole his eyes, and vanished."

Danzo's mind raced.

"A coordinated attack," he mused. "Itachi could have been involved-"

Hiruzen cut him off.

His aged eyes burned with unrelenting intensity. "Enough."

The Third Hokage took a step forward, his presence commanding despite his years. "Danzo Shimura, from this moment on, you will no longer hold any duties within Konoha."

Danzo's expression darkened. "You can't-"

"You will permanently dismantle your ANBU and Foundation. Any projects you have will be shut down."

"You're making a mistake."

Hiruzen's voice was ice.

"If I find any connection between you and these events... I will personally execute you."

Danzo's fingers clenched around his cane, his jaw tightening, but he saw it in Hiruzen's eyes.

There was no room for negotiation.

Gritting his teeth, Danzo turned on his heel and walked away, his boots echoing in the dead streets.

Two of his Root operatives materialized beside him as he moved through the ruined district.

One of them spoke first. "Sir, we examined the bodies. Some are... missing. And one of the corpses we recovered-it doesn't match."

Danzo exhaled sharply. "Explain."

Before the operative could elaborate, his companion eyes flickered, his three-tomoe gaze gleaming in the dim light.

"If you touch Sasuke," Itachi said, his voice was as calm as ever, "I will ensure that classified village intelligence is delivered to every enemy nation."

Danzo narrowed his lone eye. "Were you responsible for the Hyuga assassination?"

Itachi didn't blink. "No. That had nothing to do with me."

Danzo didn't believe him.

Yet before he could speak, Itachi's body dissolved into crows, scattering into the night.

. . .

Kiyotaka's pov:

The night air was thick with the scent of blood, sweat, and burning wood. The forest blurred past me as I ran.

I reached into my pouch, extracting two scrolls. One was inscribed with a sealing formula. With a flick of my wrist, the pair of Byakugan eyes disappeared into the parchment, secured away from the prying eyes of Konoha. The second scroll held my clothing and mask, the last remnants of the assassin that had walked through the Hyuga estate only minutes ago. I sealed them with equal care.

I kept moving.

Konoha's underground Root facility was a place of secrets, buried beneath the very foundation of the village itself. Within seconds, I slipped into my room, where my clone had been waiting in silence.

A quiet poof echoed as it vanished.

I sat down on my cot, my breathing already steady, heart rate lowered to normal. The next step was waiting.

Seconds passed. Minutes.

Then, as expected-chaos erupted.

The air became thick with the presence of chakra-multiple sources, powerful and urgent. The Hokage's Anbu had arrived. Their approach was anything but subtle. The first explosion sounded from the far corridor, followed by the sharp clash of steel against steel. Orders were shouted, footsteps thundered, walls were broken.

Danzo's men couldn't fight back.

A loud, forceful knock came at my door.

No, not a knock. A strike.

The door splintered and cracked, the wood barely holding together.

I stood, my expression blank.

"Everyone, hands behind your head!" The voice was authoritative, sharp.

I turned slowly, moving with just the right amount of hesitation to seem unaware, but not fearful. When the Anbu stormed in, my posture remained neutral.

"Who are you?" one of them demanded.

I said nothing. Silence was often the most efficient answer.

I was grabbed and forced to the ground, my arms locked behind me. My face was pressed against the cold floor as their hands checked me for weapons.

More commotion. Shouting in the hall.

Then-Danzo's presence.

His chakra was a familiar weight in the air, dense and oppressive. The Anbu hesitated for a fraction of a second. That was all he needed.

Release.

A wave of energy pulsed outward. Blue fire orbs appeared and instantly hit the Anbu soldiers. Their bodies turned to ashes around me.

I moved before anyone could react. Within seconds, I was behind Danzo, already prepared to follow.

He glanced at me once. Nothing was said, but the order was clear.

We ran.

The passage opened beneath Danzo's office, activated by a series of intricate hand seals. The walls closed behind us as we moved-precautionary, designed to erase all traces of our escape. The scent of smoke filled the air. He had set the office ablaze, burning every scrap of evidence left behind.

The Root facility was no longer safe. The network that had been built for years-erased in minutes.

We emerged deeper in the forest.

Danzo halted.

I stopped a second later.

His single visible eye turned toward me, scanning for something unseen. I remained still, allowing his scrutiny. His paranoia was thick in the air, a tangible force.

Then he moved.

Faster than before.

His hand shot forward, seizing my throat. The impact drove me back, the tree behind me splintering with the force. The pressure on my neck tightened, but my breathing remained even.

Danzo's expression twisted-not with rage, but something deeper. Frustration. Uncertainty. The foundation he had built for years had collapsed in mere hours. That realization was suffocating him more than any physical wound could.

He leaned in, his voice sharp.

"The Hokage has stripped me of my influence. My power, my men-everything I built, gone. He will absorb Root into his Anbu, and he will erase everything I have worked for. Do you understand what this means?"

I remained silent.

His grip tightened. A test.

"This does not end here." His voice was lower now, but no less dangerous. "You are different. You are not like the others. You are not disposable. You are my weapon. If I decide you die, you die. Do you understand?"

The logic was flawed.

A weapon was meant to be used, not destroyed. If he killed me, he would lose one of his greatest assets. He would never act upon that threat unless forced. His emotions were clouding his judgment.

"Understood." My voice was as empty as my expression.

Danzo's grip remained for a second longer before he released me. I did not cough, did not react. That, more than anything, seemed to satisfy him.

He stepped back.

"This is only the beginning." His gaze shifted toward the distance, where the lights of Konoha burned in the night. "The Hokage thinks he has won, but war is not fought in a single battle. He will regret this. We will not disappear."

Indeed.