Inside Konoha Village, in the desolate Uchiha Clan District.
The once-vibrant compound stood in silence, its houses hollow and its courtyards filled with shadows of memory. In one of those abandoned rooms, Uchiha Shisui stood quietly at the center, his posture calm, his expression unreadable.
His eyes—like deep, still lakes reflecting the night—remained fixed on the two before him: Senju Tobirama and Orochimaru.
Neither moved, nor spoke. The tension between them was heavy, suffocating.
It was obvious Tobirama and Orochimaru had reached an unspoken agreement. They needed only to stall—wait for Edo Tensei to exhaust itself, for Shisui's body to crumble into dust on its own.
But Shisui's lips curved faintly, as if mocking their calculation.
In the next breath, his form blurred and vanished.
He reappeared behind Orochimaru, silent as a shadow, his Sharingan glowing like embers smoldering in darkness. Orochimaru was his chosen target from the beginning—the weak link in their temporary alliance.
Just as Shisui's hand rose to strike, his eyes flickered, receiving distant feedback.
The Land of Water…Danzo and Obito had repelled Pain. Together, they had forced even the Rinnegan back.
The corners of Shisui's mouth curled further. His Sharingan blazed, sinister light deepening.
Suddenly, flames erupted from his entire body—flames not of warmth, but of dread.
They burned crimson, almost black at the edges, as though drawn from the fires of hell itself. The air warped around him, the oppressive heat pressing into the bones of all who looked upon it.
In an instant, the inferno coalesced. From within it unfurled the wings of a massive flaming moth, its shape both majestic and grotesque, radiating suffocating malice. With a roar, it lunged straight for Orochimaru.
Orochimaru's face twisted in shock, almost too slow to respond.
At the final moment, Tobirama's figure flickered beside him. With a single sweep of Flying Thunder God, he wrenched Orochimaru out of danger.
"—Whoosh!"
The two vanished, leaving only the flaming moth to crash downward.
The blast consumed the room. Shisui's attack did not discriminate—it devoured everything. The old tatami mats. The chessboard left half-played. The fading ink scrolls. Even the strange wooden doll resting by the window—all relics once belonging to Uchiha Gen—were reduced to ash in the inferno.
As they burned, it felt as if more than wood and paper were destroyed. Something older, heavier—some lingering curse or will—was swallowed by the flames as well.
And yet—
From the firestorm, a figure slowly reformed. The flames condensed back into human shape, receding to reveal Shisui once more. His form was intact, his gaze as calm as before.
Tobirama's expression hardened. He understood now.
Shisui had turned Edo Tensei's undying body into a weapon, burning himself completely only to reform, making his attacks nearly impossible to counter. Each immolation was a deathless strike.
Standing amidst the fading embers, Shisui's voice was quiet, almost contemplative:
"So this is it… the meaning of Edo Tensei. To burn myself down as many times as needed… if it means fulfilling my duty to protect Konoha."
"Nonsense!"
Tobirama's sharp rebuke cut through the crackling of the flames. He strode forward, eyes blazing with anger.
Shisui's gaze shifted toward him, his expression unchanging. Only a faint curl of mockery touched his lips.
"Lord Tobirama, why so agitated? When the time comes, I'll vanish on my own. Surely… no one knows the rules of Edo Tensei better than you?"
The sarcasm in his tone stung more than fire.
Tobirama's fists clenched. He wanted to let time wear Shisui down, to treat him as nothing more than a jutsu waiting to expire. And yet—the boy's words forced the question from him.
"Kid—what is it you want? Do you truly mean to destroy the Shinobi World? Why? Out of hatred for your clan's demise?"
"Why…?"
The single word seemed to still Shisui. His voice, calm until now, carried a note of something else—something distant, uncertain.
"Must everything in this world have a reason so simple and clear?"
He lowered his gaze for a moment, as though peering into himself. Then, with the faintest shake of his head, he continued:
"No… Perhaps it's simply for the Uchiha. For their resentment. For their refusal to vanish quietly."
Orochimaru's tongue flicked, a cruel smile curving across his face.
"What a pathetic justification."
But even as he sneered, he noticed something else. The chakra binding Shisui's body was unraveling. The glow around his form weakened, the stability of Edo Tensei faltering.
Time was catching up.
The end was drawing near.
"I'm truly curious—why are you always so eager to seek causes and reasons?"
Shisui's voice was like steel on stone, sharp and cold.
"You insist on knowing, so I give you an answer. Yet the moment you hear it, you resist, you doubt… as though no truth could ever satisfy you."
His sigh carried both relief and exhaustion, the weariness of a man who had been burdened too long.
Suddenly, the air shifted.
Around Uchiha Shisui's figure, countless intricate sealing marks flared into existence, weaving together in an instant. The sealing formations expanded across the entire chamber, layer upon layer of densely packed characters and sigils. Each talisman pulsed with oppressive chakra, suffocating the very air.
Tobirama stood beyond the barrier, fingers frozen in his hand-seal stance, gaze sharp as a blade.
"Whether you are truly Shisui… or merely the mask of Uchiha Gen," his voice was cold, merciless, "your existence alone is a destabilizing threat to the world. Even lingering in the Pure Land would be a hidden danger. I cannot allow it."
The sealing formations roared to life, their glow blinding. Talisman after talisman coalesced into chains of pure chakra, heavy and unyielding, wrapping around Shisui's incorporeal body. The chains dragged downward, attempting to smother his soul into silence.
Yet in the face of such overwhelming suppression, Shisui remained composed. There was no panic, no struggle—only the same calm gentleness he had always carried.
It was as if he had expected this moment, accepted it long before it arrived.
The seals closed in. His form was being devoured by the brilliance of the technique. And then—Shisui raised his head.
His eyes shone with unshakable conviction.
"Even if this is how I am treated…" his voice was steady, resolute, "…I will still choose to protect Konoha."
At that instant, his Mangekyō flared—radiant, fierce, unstoppable.
A flood of light erupted from his pupils, the overwhelming might of Kotoamatsukami unleashed once more. The genjutsu was not aimed at an enemy, nor for manipulation—it was the pure will to protect Konoha, weaponized into divine command.
The sealing formation shuddered violently. Chains cracked and splintered. The talismans flickered erratically, overwhelmed by the genjutsu's surge. And then—
The seal shattered.
Shisui's Edo Tensei body began to crumble, disintegrating into particles of light. For a moment, Tobirama's technique managed to drag fragments of his soul back into confinement…
But suddenly—those fragments ignited.
They flared into countless burning leaves, each one glowing with unnatural radiance. Like embers scattered by the wind, the leaves spread outward, sweeping across the Uchiha district and spilling into every street of Konoha.
The village was bathed in their strange light.
"Wherever the leaves dance," Shisui's voice lingered in the air, impossibly gentle, impossibly chilling, "flames will always burn. The shadow of fire will illuminate the village… new leaves will sprout in time… and the will to protect Konoha will never fade."
The voice faded with the last of the leaves. Shisui's soul slipped free at last, vanishing back into the Pure Land.
The sealing formation collapsed entirely, unraveling into a cascade of sparks before disappearing into nothingness.
Tobirama remained motionless, his jaw set, his expression hard and solemn.
Around him, the leaves—burning, brilliant, ephemeral—fell one by one. By the time they touched the ground, each turned to ash, crumbling into the void as though they had never existed.
"…The will to protect Konoha," he muttered, his tone caught between respect and suspicion.
But even in this fading quiet, one truth was undeniable:
Uchiha Gen's curse had evolved.
Not just the Sharingan, not just the Uchiha. This mutation—this contamination—was spreading, seeping into the very concept of bloodline inheritance itself.
Tobirama met Orochimaru's eyes across the silence. No words were needed. Both understood.
In the future…
Perhaps every bloodline limit clan would feel this corruption.
And perhaps—no one would remain untouched.