Morning broke over Konoha, but the village did not wake with its usual warmth. The dawn light touched blackened streets, shattered doors, and the silent husks of the Uchiha compound. Smoke clung stubbornly to the air, a reminder of fires hastily doused in the night.
Civilians gathered in hushed clusters near the main road, their eyes darting, their voices kept low as if the dead might still overhear them.
"Is it true? All of them?"
"My cousin swears he saw it. The Uchiha district—nothing but blood."
"By the gods… a whole clan, gone in a single night…"
"And Itachi—wasn't he their genius? Why would he—"
"Don't say his name too loudly. They say he did it himself. They say he butchered them all."
Mothers clutched their children tighter. Shopkeepers left their stalls half-open. Nobody wanted to walk near the southern quarter anymore. The silence there was too deep, too final.
A merchant spat into the dirt. "If the Hokage can let a clan vanish like that, what chance do the rest of us have? We're all just lambs, waiting."
Inside the council chamber, the air was thicker still. Clan heads sat stiff in their seats. Civilian leaders shifted nervously. At the far end, the Hokage sat, pipe resting in his fingers.
Hiruzen Sarutobi looked every bit his age today. His back was straight, but his eyes were heavy, his face carved with new lines.
Shikaku Nara broke the silence with a sigh. "So… it's true then. The Uchiha are gone."
Hiashi Hyūga's pale eyes narrowed. "Too clean. Too sudden. Even for Itachi."
One of the civilians, a balding man with trembling hands, snapped, "What does it matter how? They're dead. Good riddance, I say. Their police force lorded over us for too long."
His words drew sharp looks from the clan heads.
Inoichi Yamanaka leaned forward. "Careful, civilian. The Uchiha carried weight in this village for generations. They may be gone, but spitting on their graves serves no one."
"They threatened rebellion!" the man insisted. "Everyone knew it. Better one night of blood than a civil war."
Hiruzen's pipe clicked against the table. His voice was quiet, but it silenced the chamber. "Enough."
The Hokage exhaled smoke, watching it coil upward. "Itachi Uchiha has been branded a traitor. That is the truth we will give the people. He turned on his clan, killed them all. He spared only his younger brother."
Gasps rippled. "Sasuke… survived?"
Hiruzen's jaw tightened. "Yes. And for his sake, that is all we will speak of. The boy deserves no more burdens."
Shikaku muttered, "Troublesome. So the Uchiha name lives on, but barely. This will fester."
Hiashi inclined his head. "The balance of power in Konoha is shattered. The Sharingan was a pillar, and now it is ash. Do not think the other villages will ignore this."
That evening, as lanterns flickered to life across Konoha, the civilians whispered in the alleys.
"My neighbor swore he saw ANBU dragging bodies from the compound."
"They say the Hokage himself covered it up."
"They say the boy Itachi was ordered to do it."
"No, no—he's a demon. No human could kill his whole clan alone."
Children dared one another to run to the Uchiha gates, only to flee when confronted by silence and the faint stench of iron.
To some, the massacre was relief. To others, it was proof of danger closer than they'd ever feared.
Lightning split the sky above the Cloud's mountain stronghold. Inside Raikage's office, A spoke with his advisors, the veins in his arms bulging as he slammed a fist on the table.
"So. One of Konoha's strongest clans erased in a night." He laughed, low and grim. "Hah! Their military spine just snapped."
His advisor, C, frowned. "We should be cautious. Even weakened, Konoha is not prey."
Raikage sneered. "Prey? No. But blood in the water draws sharks. And the Uchiha eyes… how many are unclaimed? How many could be harvested?"
Another advisor murmured uneasily. "Raiding for eyes would provoke war."
A grinned, teeth bared. "War is inevitable. And now, Konoha will fight it weaker than ever."
In the Mist, where blood mist still stained the training fields, the massacre carried a different meaning.
"They say Itachi Uchiha killed his whole clan alone," one elder whispered.
The Mizukage's lips curled. "A child who slaughters his kin. Fitting for this world."
The Mist's shinobi whispered that the age of blood had consumed even the mighty.
Onoki, the old Tsuchikage, floated cross-legged above his council chamber, beard bristling as he listened to the report.
"The Uchiha?" he said at last. "Gone?"
His advisors nodded.
Onoki chuckled dryly, coughing into his beard. "Hmph. Fate has done what we could not. How many wars did their eyes cost us? How many graves did they fill? Good riddance."
But when his advisors left, Onoki sat alone, staring at the map of the ninja world.
"If the Uchiha can vanish in a night," he muttered, "then so can any of us." His old hands trembled slightly.
The Kazekage's eyes glittered like sand in the sun as he heard the news.
"Konoha grows unstable," he murmured to his council. "Their power is fractured. Their people unsettled. This is opportunity."
One of his aides asked nervously, "Will we move against them?"
The Kazekage smiled thinly. "No. Not yet. But we will watch. And when their guard falters again, Sunagakure will be ready."
In shadowed taverns and underground halls, the whispers grew darker still.
"Uchiha corpses, unguarded."
"Sharingan ripe for the taking."
"They'll fetch fortunes—more than bloodlines ever have."
Missing-nin licked their lips. Hunters sharpened their knives. The Uchiha name, once feared, was now just another commodity in the world's endless trade of death.
Far from villages and markets, in the darkness of a hidden cavern, two figures spoke.
Nagato's Rinnegan eyes glowed faintly. "The Uchiha are ash. Even the mighty fall. Proof the world crumbles further into chaos."
Beside him, a masked man watched quietly. Obito's voice was calm, steady, almost cold. "Do not mistake this for weakness. The clan's blood was spent willingly. Itachi did what was necessary."
Nagato tilted his head. "Necessary?"
"The world fears the Uchiha name," Obito said, his Sharingan glowing behind the mask. "Now it will fear their absence even more. A single survivor—Sasuke. A seed of hatred that will ripen in time. And Itachi, his brother's executioner, wearing the mask of a traitor. Both will serve the plan."
Nagato's lips curved faintly. "So even slaughter is just another tool."
"Not just a tool," Obito corrected. "A lesson. If a clan as proud as the Uchiha can vanish in one night, what hope does the rest of the world have? They will break themselves long before we move."
The cave fell into silence, the weight of his words hanging like a blade.
In every corner of the world, the same truth echoed:
The Uchiha were no more.
In Konoha, mothers whispered it as they clutched their children tighter. In the Cloud, war drums beat a little faster. In the Mist, killers sharpened their blades. In the Stone, an old man muttered about fate. In the Sand, a Kazekage plotted. In the shadows, missing-nin dreamed of profit.
And in the darkest cavern of all, a masked man watched and waited, convinced the ashes of his clan would be fuel enough to burn the world.
The Uchiha were dead.
But their shadow had only just begun to spread.