The world spun around me. My body was strong, yes, but not yet fully ready for what I had just tried to do. My memories were fused, my knowledge overflowing, yet the merging of my three souls was incomplete. I stumbled, disoriented, and Itachi's eyes—cold, merciless, unflinching—pierced through me like a blade.
In an instant, he moved. Faster than thought. Every strike, every movement, every jutsu he executed cut through my defenses. My body was still that of a child, and my soul, though ancient, hadn't fully anchored to this vessel. The clash was over almost as soon as it began.
Itachi's final blow sent me sprawling. Pain radiated through my body, but more than that, the sting of being outmatched fueled a cold clarity inside me. He paused, his gaze sweeping over my parents' bodies, and then, without another word, he vanished, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
I struggled to my knees, tasting blood, my vision spinning. Behind me, a small movement caught my attention. Sasuke. My twin. The child had gotten up, rage in his eyes, and was already chasing after Itachi's retreating figure.
No matter. That boy wasn't my concern yet. Not now.
I moved through the clan compound with precision, every step measured. My hands, guided by instinct and knowledge, sought out the most valuable tools of the Uchiha—eyes. First, Fugaku's Mangekyō Sharingan, still vivid with untapped potential, and then my mother's. Each pluck was precise, painless in seconds, the stolen ocular powers preserved in my storage scroll.
The clan archives weren't overlooked. I moved through the compound silently, collecting scrolls, sealing away anything that could be of use—jutsu scrolls, forbidden techniques, notes on the clan's history. Every eye 2-tomoe or higher was taken. Every piece of knowledge, every bit of power, I stored carefully, making sure the Uchiha secrets were mine alone.
Finally, my steps brought me to the street. Sasuke lay unconscious, exhausted from chasing shadows he did not yet understand. I looked down at him with something strange, something colder than grief—a calculated calm. He was safe for now, but the world he knew was gone. The path ahead would be his own, shaped by forces far beyond his comprehension.
I knelt beside him, letting my Sharingan's refraction flare in a subtle, shimmering pattern. With a slow breath, I wrapped myself in a powerful genjutsu, the kind that would put even an awakened child to sleep. Pain, hunger, emotion—all suspended in perfect stasis. My body sank into unconsciousness, yet my mind remained aware enough to plan, to prepare, to survive.
The Uchiha massacre had ended—for now. But for me, Indra Uchiha, it was only the beginning.