The world shrank.
Nothing existed beyond the chamber.
No sky.No time.No escape.
Only him.
And Danzo.
The old warhawk's arm pulsed with stolen power.Eyes spun madly.Each blink echoed like thunder in the boy's ears.
The boy's breath slowed.
His broken shoulder burned.His legs ached.
But his eye…Awake.
A single moon in a void.
Danzo moved first.
No sound.
Just a blur.
The boy barely ducked.
A kunai scraped his cheek.Another jab came from below.
He twisted, caught Danzo's wrist—Only to feel it melt into shadow.
Genjutsu.
He spun.
Too slow.
A heel slammed into his side.
He crashed into the wall.
Blood hit stone.
Danzo stepped calmly forward.
"You're raw. Too raw. That eye doesn't belong to you."
The boy spat blood.
Smiled.
"Doesn't matter."
His eye flared.
The sigil on his chest pulsed.
A wall of black light erupted between them.
Danzo stopped.
Then frowned.
The wall wasn't chakra.
It was memory.
Ancient.Alive.
A scream echoed from it—A woman's voice—Crying in a language no one spoke anymore.
Danzo stepped back.
Just slightly.
The boy stood again.
Stronger this time.
The eye spun faster.
Too fast.
The floor cracked under his feet.
He didn't rush.
Didn't need to.
The wall broke on its own—Shattered into a thousand black feathers.
They hovered.Waited.
Then—flew at Danzo.
He raised his stolen arm.
The Sharingan eyes flared.
Izanagi.
The feathers hit.
Danzo vanished.
For a breath.
Then reappeared behind him.
A sword stabbed forward.
The boy twisted.Too late.
The blade sank in—just below the ribs.
Pain flashed.
But no scream.
Instead—his hand snapped out.
Grabbed Danzo's face.
The moon in his eye spun.
Not genjutsu. Not ninjutsu. Something deeper.
Danzo's eyes widened.
The world twisted.
And they were no longer in the chamber.
Memory space.
Danzo stood in a forest of corpses.
Each one wore a face.
Faces of the boys he had used.Faces of the Uchiha he had stolen from.Of Root members he had discarded.
They stared at him.
Empty eyes.
Judging.
Danzo turned.
The boy stood behind him.
Breathing hard.
Eye glowing like a dying star.
"This is what the eye sees," he said."All the things that should not be."
Danzo sneered.
"Parlor tricks."
He raised his hand.
But the corpses moved.
Grabbed him.
Held him.
Whispered.
"Thief.""Murderer.""Coward."
Danzo roared.
The memory cracked.
They crashed back into reality.
Danzo staggered.
His sword gone.
His bandaged arm trembled.
Three of the Sharingan had gone blind.
Smoke rose from them.
The boy fell to one knee.
Blood soaked his side.
But he was still breathing.
Still awake.
Still watching.
Danzo raised his arm again.
Eyes flaring once more.
Izanagi. Again.
The boy smiled.
"How many do you have left?"
Danzo paused.
Didn't answer.
But his step slowed.
He knew.Izanagi wasn't free.
Every use cost an eye.
And the boy…
He hadn't used any technique from this world.
Nothing that could be blocked or dodged.
Only seen.
And felt.
From the inside.
Danzo charged again.
Faster.
More desperate.
But the boy didn't meet him head-on.
He raised a single hand.
Not to fight.
To point.
Behind Danzo—
The tree.
The Grave.
It had awakened.
Eyes on the trunk glowed.
Roots rose.
Twisted.
And wrapped around Danzo's legs.
He turned.
Too late.
The tree pulled.
Danzo screamed.
The roots ignored him.
They pulled him to the base.
Wrapped him like a child returning to the womb.
The boy stood, panting.
Watching.
And the last thing he heard before Danzo vanished beneath the roots—
"This isn't over."
Then silence.
No chakra.
No sound.
The Grave swallowed the warhawk whole.
And slept again.
He collapsed.
Back against the wall.
Breathing shallow.
Eye dimming.
Then—Soft footsteps.
A figure stepped into the broken chamber.
She looked older.
Eyes sharper.
Hair shorter.
But he knew her.
She dropped beside him.
Gripped his hand.
The girl.
Alive.
And she whispered—
"You found it."
He nodded.
Then blacked out.
To be continued.