In the dim dungeon, the rustle of turning pages echoed. Uchiha Gin frowned, carefully reading the document in his hands.
It was a plan Uchiha Yao had produced to back his claims. The rough, aged paper felt ancient.
The faded cover boldly read:
War Weapon Development Plan
Author: Uchiha Tajima
Editor: Uchiha Miao
Too exasperated to critique the clumsy title, Gin dove into the text.
The document was lengthy. The first half detailed the original host and Nameless's Mangekyo abilities and their flaws.
It noted their Sharingan had high compatibility, with simultaneous activation amplifying destructive power.
Miao argued the Uchiha's emotional volatility, especially in teens, far exceeded others'. Two young, overpowered teens losing control could devastate the clan.
To prevent this, Miao proposed "de-willing" them—erasing their unstable consciousness while preserving their abilities, turning them into emotionless "weapons" for the clan.
Reading this, Gin's head throbbed. The original host trusted Tajima deeply, and Yao presenting this felt like a stab to the heart.
The final pages highlighted solutions for the Mangekyo's irreversible pupil power decay.
Clan records noted that when a Mangekyo's power waned, users faced physical decline, weakened immunity, and—critically—vision loss.
A tested fix was transplanting another Mangekyo pair.
If no rejection occurred, pupil power could recover, potentially granting access to both pairs' full abilities.
"So, my Sharingan was taken?" Gin looked up at Yao, slumped nearby.
Yao nodded. "Correct. Tajima removed your Sharingan afterward and transplanted it to the more controllable Nameless."
As suspected. Tajima and the others' shock upon Gin's return hinted his current eyes might not even be Uchiha.
"What happened to Nameless?" Gin asked, curious about her fate.
"Per Wanryo's intel, Nameless's power surged post-transplant. Tajima sent her on brutal war missions. Her eerie abilities unnerved other clans," Yao said, his single eye glinting. "Later, on a mission, the Senju and Sarutobi clans ambushed and sealed her in a hidden location."
Sealed, huh? Gin frowned, an inexplicable urge to find this "Nameless" girl stirring within.
A sudden restlessness gripped him, a knot in his chest demanding release.
"You lured me here and spilled these secrets. What do you want me to do?" Gin asked. Though Yao was his grandfather by blood, his motives weren't mere family reunion—why else feed him all this "truth"?
"Correct," Yao admitted frankly. "I could've reunited with you sooner, but Tajima's influence is too strong for us to challenge. Plus, without your Sharingan, your strength's hit rock bottom."
Yao knew that six years ago, Gin's Mangekyo overuse had nearly destroyed his body.
Though the Sharingan was removed in time, the backlash had ravaged his chakra network. At best, he'd retain a sliver of chakra; at worst, he'd be a cripple.
Luck had spared him the worst.
"Then why seek me now?" Gin pressed, aware the original host's strength was negligible.
"Yan recently captured a Sarutobi ninja," Yao said, eyes gleaming. "That guy knows where Nameless is sealed."
It clicked—Yao was after Nameless. Gin realized her post-transplant powers rivaled Mangekyo-wielding Itachi or Sasuke.
"Once Yan extracts her sealing location, Tajima will move immediately to unseal his prized 'war weapon,'" Yao said, locking eyes with Gin. "If you tag along and unseal her first, I have a way to let you control Nameless. Then, no Uchiha could stand against you."
Why? Because of the author's charm? The readers' good looks?
Gin's first thought: why would Tajima let him join such a confidential mission?
Per Yao, he'd betrayed Tajima once. Sparing him was already mercy for blood ties—who'd trust a traitor again?
"If you say you want to join the mission, he'll agree," Yao said, his gaze cryptic, voice low. "I can only say, in this world, the only person Tajima truly trusts… is you."
Yao's raspy whisper short-circuited Gin's brain.
---
The Uchiha clan grounds lay quiet under the night sky. In Tajima's mansion, Madara and Izuna slept soundly.
In the study, a candle flickered. Tajima sat cross-legged, eyes closed, a cold aura swirling as he refined his chakra.
Haaa…
After an unknown time, he exhaled deeply, opening his eyes.
No three-tomoe Sharingan—his pupils bore a windmill pattern, spinning slowly. Feeling the surging pupil power, he mused, "Almost fully recovered."
Recalling the incident six years ago, Tajima shut his eyes in pain. If the heavens gave him a do-over, he'd forsake these "strongest eyes" to undo that day.
That event cost him his beloved and turned his cherished nephew into a pariah.
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