....
Itachi slid back, narrowly evading the downward slash of Sasuke's lightning-coated blade. The moment his sandals touched the ground, he caught sight of the faint flicker of Sasuke's shadow — but too late.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
Sasuke expelled a massive sphere of flame that filled the chamber, roaring toward his brother.
Itachi's hands moved faster than sight, weaving his own seals. "Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
Two massive infernos collided, the shockwave rattling the stone walls and creating a blast of heat that scorched the air between them.
Sasuke leapt back, knowing a direct contest of chakra would be meaningless. His eyes glinted, the tomoe of his Sharingan spinning faster.
Suddenly, Itachi was gone from sight — and in the next instant, he was right in front of Sasuke, hand reaching for his face. Sasuke's vision warped, the world melting into a red, moonlit void.
Tsukuyomi.
The moon hung unnaturally close above them, and Itachi stood with a blade in hand. Sasuke found himself bound to a stone cross, unable to move.
"It's over," Itachi said, his tone flat. "For the next seventy-two hours, you will experience death… again, and again."
He stabbed Sasuke through the chest. Pain exploded in his mind — but Sasuke's voice cut through, defiant.
"You think I'm the same as before? That I can't see through your genjutsu?"
The world shattered like glass.
Itachi's real body froze for a split second in surprise before Sasuke's kick slammed into his side, sending him skidding.
"Your Tsukuyomi...doesn't work on me anymore," Sasuke said coldly.
Itachi rose slowly, brushing dust from his cloak. "So… you've grown. But that only means I have no reason to hold back."
The chamber fell silent for a heartbeat — and then, in the next breath, Itachi's right eye began to bleed.
Sasuke's stance tightened. He could feel it — a sudden, suffocating pressure in the air, centered around Itachi's gaze.
Itachi's right eye narrowed, Mangekyō fully revealed, the tomoe morphing into a three-pointed pinwheel.
"Amaterasu."
The instant the word left his lips, black flames erupted from nothingness — no heat, no warning, just an all-consuming fire that devoured even light itself. They clung to the wall where Sasuke had been standing, melting stone like wax.
Sasuke rolled aside, but the flames followed — alive, hunting. Every surface they touched sizzled and crumbled to ash.
"They won't stop until you're nothing but cinders," Itachi said, voice calm, almost clinical.
Sasuke's Sharingan spun wildly, tracking the black fire's relentless path. So this… is the true power of his eyes.
The wall behind him collapsed under the strain, creating a brief opening. Sasuke inhaled sharply. "Water Style: Water Dragon Jutsu!"
A massive serpent of water surged forth, slamming into the black flames. Steam exploded through the chamber — but even water couldn't extinguish them.
The Amaterasu devoured the jutsu completely, swallowing the torrent as if it were oil.
Sasuke clicked his tongue. "Tch… as expected."
Itachi stepped forward, blood now streaming freely from his right eye. "You can't escape this. And when I take your eyes… I will finally be complete."
Sasuke's lips curled into a smirk. "Then try, Itachi. But don't blink… or you'll miss it."
The chamber had become a warped blend of swirling dust, charred debris, and violent winds—the aftermath of Sasuke's elemental display. Shadows flickered across the walls, and the air pulsed with tension.
Sasuke's stance was steady at the center of the room, body coiled like a spring, chakra humming at the surface of his skin. His eyes, blazing with Sharingan intensity, never left Itachi.
Though Itachi appeared physically unchanged, a subtle shift in his gaze told everything: he was searching—for an angle, an opening, something to exploit.
Sasuke's voice cut the silence, low and measured. "All this... it's happening exactly as planned."
Without warning, Sasuke vanished in a flash of movement. In a heartbeat, he was behind Itachi, pressing the palm of his blade against his back. Itachi turned, face calm. "Predictable."
But Sasuke was already gone. As Itachi shifted to counter, the floor beneath him exploded in flames—papercraft bombs hidden among the rubble ignited in perfect synchronization, launching a wave of fire that ripped through the stone and threatened to consume him.
Still unflinching, Itachi propelled himself upwards, landing with grace on a broken beam. From there, he took in the scene: structural collapse, flame-and-smoke — utter chaos.
Yet Sasuke's expression remained calm.
"You can't predict what's already set in motion," Sasuke murmured. Lightning crackled in his palm.
In an instant, he slammed his hand against the stone floor. Every metallic shard—kunai, shuriken, broken pipes—became conduits. They sparked to life, drawing invisible arcs of blue lightning that stitched across the chamber.
Itachi's form flickered under the assault, forced to dodge streams of radiant energy inching closer.
Sasuke lifted his eyes to the fractured ceiling, barely visible through the rising smoke.
"Watch the skies, itachi," he said coolly