Itachi sat perched silently atop a tall pole, his figure cloaked in darkness. The blood-red moon behind him illuminated the sky like an open wound. His silhouette, rigid and still, merged with the shadows, making him look like a phantom born of vengeance.
Behind him, standing just within the eerie glow of the moonlight, was the spiral-masked man.
The masked man chuckled lowly before letting out a mocking laugh. "See? Even you need my support to do something of this magnitude," he said with a sneer, voice filled with amusement. "I knew it. You would return to me eventually."
His laughter echoed in the wind.
Itachi remained silent. Not a single word escaped his lips.
He had already made up his mind.
Moments before, he had received his final orders from Danzo Shimura — eliminate the Uchiha Clan. It wasn't just a mission now; it was an ultimatum. The elders had decided, and Danzo had acted.
Danzo had informed Itachi of one minor detail — a cruel mercy. Sasuke would have extra class at the academy tonight. He would return home late.
It was the perfect setup.
Today… was the best day for genocide.
The Uchiha Clan, proud and powerful, was on the brink of being erased.
After accepting the order, Itachi left the village center and made his way through the outskirts.
He passed beneath the trees, moving deeper into the forest, far from the eyes and ears of Konoha.
There, in a quiet clearing, he stood beneath the canopy of rustling leaves. The moonlight bled through the branches, casting long streaks of red over the forest floor.
He spoke one word into the still air:
"Madara."
As if answering the call, space twisted before him. A swirling portal opened like a vortex to another world.
From its center, the spiral-masked man emerged again, stepping out into the clearing. His body was relaxed, arms hanging at his sides. He smirked, clearly expecting this meeting.
"Ha! So you've come back to me," he sneered again, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You really are predictable, Itachi. Just like I thought."
But Itachi's face remained unreadable.
His gaze didn't waver. There was no emotion in his voice as he spoke.
"I want your assistance in the Uchiha Clan's annihilation."
The masked man froze.
Even he hadn't expected such cold directness.
There was silence.
He tilted his head slightly, almost confused.
"You want to… exterminate your own clan?"
"Yes."
"…Your own family?"
"Yes."
There was a pause as the wind rustled the leaves around them.
The masked man slowly began to chuckle again — not in amusement this time, but in disbelief. Then, a sinister grin crept beneath his mask.
"You're truly ruthless," he muttered. "Killing your own flesh and blood… Your parents. Your friends. Even your little sister, huh?"
But there was no reaction from Itachi.
He had long abandoned hesitation.
The masked man's single visible eye glinted with curiosity and contempt.
"Well, then," he said finally, "I'll help you. But on one condition."
Itachi waited.
"You join my organization."
Without blinking, without pausing, Itachi nodded. "Agreed."
The masked man let out a twisted laugh, his cloak flapping in the night breeze. "Very well, Itachi Uchiha. The genocide begins tonight."
With that, the deal was struck.
Itachi turned away, his figure slowly merging with the shadows of the forest as he left the clearing.
His silhouette vanished under the red moonlight.
---
Obito, the masked man, remained in the clearing.
He turned his head slowly toward the night sky.
The moon had changed.
It was darker. Redder. More alive than usual.
Something about it was different — as if it too was bearing witness to the blood that would soon spill.
Obito whispered under his breath.
"See, Rin… This world… this broken world doesn't deserve someone like you."
His voice grew quieter, softer, almost gentle.
"It's fake. It's filled with lies and pain… But I'll fix it. I'll make it disappear. Every false thing will vanish."
Then his tone sharpened.
"The Infinite Tsukuyomi... Only I can make it real. Only I can create the dream where none of this pain exists."
His voice cracked into a manic laugh.
He laughed wildly, like a madman staring into the face of God.
His twisted laughter echoed through the trees.
Unseen behind him, two shadowy figures stood among the bushes — observing.
One was pale, almost white, with a plant-like body — White Zetsu.
The other was a dark, sinister presence — Black Zetsu.
White Zetsu sighed.
"What a crazy person," he muttered, watching the masked man howl at the sky.
Black Zetsu remained still.
Then he turned to his lighter half. "Be ready. Once the massacre begins, collect all the Sharingan you can. They will be useful."
White Zetsu nodded.
But then he tilted his head innocently.
"Hey… What does it feel like when you poop?"
Black Zetsu's eyes twitched.
"What?"
"I mean, I've always wondered. You act all serious but you've got to be just like me deep down."
Black Zetsu groaned, turning away. "Shut up. Just complete the task."
White Zetsu mumbled under his breath. "Hmph. What an uninteresting fellow."
Black Zetsu ignored the complaint.
His gaze returned to the moon.
The blood moon hung low in the sky.
"Mother," he whispered. "Your arrival is only a matter of time."
---
Meanwhile, on the other side, inside the ninja academy, one person was very anxious.
She was Uchiha Shizuka.
Her hands rested on her desk, trembling. Her breathing was shallow. Her eyes shifted constantly to the classroom door, as if expecting something — or someone — terrible to walk through at any moment.
She knew.
She wasn't a fool. She could feel it in the air today — the stillness, the tension. The way people avoided eye contact with her. The way even the instructors didn't call her name today, pretending not to notice her at all.
And above all…
She remembered how her brother, Itachi, had looked that morning. Distant. Numb. Cold.
Her instincts screamed at her.
Tonight was the night.
Tonight, everything would change.
And she… could do nothing.
She was just a student. Still in the academy. Still learning basic jutsu. Still struggling to keep up in taijutsu class.
She had no voice.
No strength.
No power.
All she could do was sit in that quiet classroom and pray.
In her heart, she pleaded to whatever gods might exist.
She begged that Itachi wouldn't go that far.
She prayed that maybe, just maybe, he would spare their parents.
She closed her eyes tightly.
"Please, please don't kill them," she whispered under her breath. "Please, Itachi… please."
But her prayers would prove false.
---
Far away, beneath the watchful gaze of the crimson moon, Itachi Uchiha walked through the silent compound.
The night air was cool, but he felt nothing. His body moved like it was part of the darkness itself.
His Mangekyō Sharingan spun slowly.
Each step brought him closer to the inevitable end.
But even as he moved forward, his mind wandered.
He couldn't stop the memories from surfacing.
He remembered his mother's voice calling him in for dinner, the warmth of her hand brushing against his forehead when he was sick.
He remembered his father's stern presence, always watching, always judging — yet proud in a silent, unspoken way.
He remembered the day Sasuke was born, how tiny and fragile he looked in their mother's arms. How Itachi had made a quiet promise to protect him.
He remembered the first time he held a kunai, how his father had corrected his grip with a rare nod of approval.
He remembered family dinners, the soft laughter, Mikoto's gentle scolding, Fugaku's strict silence, Sasuke's excited babble.
And Shizuka… following him around, always asking questions, always watching him with admiration in her eyes.
She had once asked him if he would protect her too.
He had said yes.
But now, all of that belonged to the past.
Memories.
Nothing more.
The blood moon above seemed to judge him, bathing the streets of the Uchiha district in a red that matched what was to come.
Even now, he could hear the faint voices of his clan members, unaware of what was about to happen.
He could hear a child laughing.
He could hear someone singing.
He could hear peace — fleeting and fragile.
He shut his eyes for a brief moment.
Then he opened them again, and they glowed with the light of the Mangekyō.
He had already made up his mind.
He had already chosen the path he would walk.
Even if it meant stepping over the bodies of everyone he had once loved.
Even if it meant killing his parents.
Even if it meant killing his own sister.
As the blood-red moon rose higher in the night sky, painting the clouds with its terrible hue, Itachi moved forward.
Into the darkness.
Without turning back.
---
End of Chapter.
To be continued...
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