Two years had passed since that encounter in the jungle. Itachi, though still just a child, had enrolled in the Academy… or rather, one of his clones had. His plan was clear: draw no attention, avoid the spotlight, hide in plain sight. While the other children learned the basics of chakra and the fundamental stances, the real Itachi remained secluded, researching, experimenting, and unraveling the secrets no one else dared to explore.
Itachi was very happy, because another event from the original history of Naruto had just occurred: in his arms rested the future of his clan and of Konoha—if the older brother guided the younger one correctly.
From a very young age Sasuke was a baby blessed with good looks; he had a confident gaze, pale skin, and a healthy muscular build. Itachi made it his mission every day to set aside time from his hectic schedule to play with the little one. In his previous life he had never had siblings, so in this one he was happy and experienced a joy he had never known before, together with a deep sense of belonging to his clan.
Little by little, the Uchiha clan had grown stronger, with no enemies capable of threatening them, and they had the ability to control every variable.
During this time, his mastery over chakra had reached new heights. He had perfected the manipulation of his natural affinities and, with unbreakable discipline, was expanding his control into other elemental natures. But beyond theory, Itachi had found a space to create the impossible.
In his personal laboratory, hidden beneath the clan's lands, his inventions rested:
Automatic turrets, capable of detecting any movement and responding with accelerated bullets of compressed chakra.
A portable magnetic shield, powered by chakra batteries, which could be deployed instantly to repel projectiles and energy techniques.
Prototypes of portable weapons, capable of firing sustained bursts of fire, like the roar of a mechanical dragon.
Despite his young age, his developments were proof that his vision far surpassed that of any ninja of his generation. These were not mere tools; they were pieces of a larger puzzle: the union of chakra with the deeper laws of nature.
It was no joke that this world allowed feats beyond common sense. Having multiple clones to divide tasks let him advance quickly in any project he undertook, and many of the things he worked on were nothing more than adapted reproductions of objects from the previous world.
The Uchiha clan, for its part, had also flourished. Thanks to Fugaku's strategic leadership, Shisui's talent, and the resources Itachi had begun transferring, the strength of the clan had become more solid and organized than ever. Moreover, since Danzō was being kept in check, the pressure on the clan had diminished substantially. There was a different air in the corridors of the Uchiha compound—a premonition that they were preparing for something greater, as if the clan's future carried a destiny others had yet to grasp.
Meanwhile, Itachi, hidden behind the mask of an ordinary student, smiled silently. The world only saw another Academy child… but in the shadows, he was growing stronger every day.
On the other hand, in recent months, Itachi had begun testing his creations in controlled fields. Accompanied by Shisui and under the watchful eye of his father, Itachi activated one of his automatic turrets in a clearing hidden within the Uchiha forest. The device, fed by a steady current of chakra, rotated in search of movement. When Shisui threw a stone as a test, the turret reacted instantly: it fired a bullet of compressed chakra that cut through the air with a lethal whistle, embedding violently into a trunk more than fifty meters away.
"It's… incredible," Shisui whispered, unable to hide his astonishment.
Itachi only nodded. Then he adjusted a bracelet with a chakra core embedded and deployed the portable magnetic shield. A bluish sphere enveloped his body for an instant. Shisui attempted to launch a flurry of shuriken, but the weapons bounced off with a metallic snap against the barrier, as if an invisible force had repelled them.
"This is only the beginning," Itachi said calmly. "If chakra can mold reality, why not matter itself?"
That outdoor laboratory looked more like an inventor's workshop than a child's training ground. Fugaku, silently, observed his son with pride, though also with a shadow of concern: each step Itachi took carried him further beyond the known limits.
Meanwhile, in the village, news traveled fast. Minato Namikaze had been Hokage for more than a year already, and rumors spread that his wife, Kushina Uzumaki, was expecting a child due in a few months.
When he heard those rumors, Itachi fell into an even deeper silence than usual. A memory cut through him like a dagger: the vision of a still-distant future, an event marked by tragedy and fire, where that unborn child would play a fundamental role in the destiny of the world.
Shisui noticed. "Something wrong, Itachi?"
In the dimness of the Uchiha residence, Fugaku waited with a furrowed brow. He had received a strange summons, a call that seemed to come from an ancient voice, too powerful to ignore. That night, in the Naka Shrine, the figure of Madara Uchiha materialized among the ancestral carvings like a ghost from another time.
"Fugaku…" The voice was grave, deep, like an echo of history itself. "You and your clan have lived too long in Konoha's shadow. You smile like obedient dogs, but deep down you know you are slaves."
Fugaku remained motionless, though inside him the tension was immense. Many doubts surged through his mind. Wasn't he supposed to be dead? Could this be someone else's manipulation? No—the patterns in those eyes, that overwhelming presence, carried undeniable weight.
"What do you want?" he replied.
The red eye behind the mask glowed with scarlet intensity. "The same thing you secretly desire: freedom for your clan, control over Konoha. I can give it to you. With my power, with the Kyūbi under control, we will bend the village and return the Uchiha to their rightful place. You will be the new patriarch and Hokage, and I will tear down the bars that imprison you."
Fugaku clenched his fists. For an instant, the idea of liberating his people from the oppression of Konoha's councils seemed tempting. But he knew too well the stories—the consequences of following a man who only saw strength as the answer, trusting someone so unworthy of it.
"No, Madara." His voice was firm and strong, so much so that the clash of their wills made the air vibrate.
"I will not place my clan in the chains of your ambition. I will not seek freedom through tyranny."
Slowly, his hand lowered toward his sword, and his eyes gleamed, transforming into a pattern with four tomoe.
The figure of Madara curved into a dark smile, as if he had anticipated the answer.
Madara, however, was cautious. He felt the force behind Fugaku's words, which surprised him. He did not see a mere clan leader—without a doubt, this was a rival to be feared.
"Then your destiny will be that of the weak, Fugaku. And when the truth falls upon you, you will remember this night." He spoke, and the specter faded, leaving behind a pressure that lingered in the air for minutes before dissipating.
Returning home, Fugaku found Itachi in the study, calmly reviewing scrolls with a composure far beyond his age. Fugaku hesitated for a moment, but ended up entrusting the secret to his son.
"Itachi… someone claiming to be Madara sought me out. He was no ordinary man—there was immense power behind his eyes.
He wants me to help him seize control of the village with the Kyūbi, to make me Hokage. He believes that way the clan can be free."
The boy's eyes narrowed, calculating every word. Though the offer was tempting, he had his own path, but he would support his father if he chose to accept.
"Father…" he said with his usual serenity, "Madara is not the real danger. I sense something strange in this proposal. If he is truly Madara, shouldn't he be able to accomplish everything alone? Why summon you?"
Fugaku looked at him in surprise. "How can you know that?"
"I know one thing: if we do not stop him, the Kyūbi will be used against the village, and against us as well."
Fugaku swallowed hard. "And what do you propose?"
Itachi took a deep breath. "First we must establish secret contact with the Fourth Hokage. No one must know—not even the Council. If we manage to silently ally with Minato, we can anticipate Madara and cut off his moves before his plan comes to fruition."
In Fugaku's eyes shone a spark of pride and fear at the same time. His son, barely a child, was already taking on the weight of decisions that would shape the fate not only of the clan, but of the entire village.