Chapter 100: The Real Terror
"Why… why would you do this…"
Minato stood frozen, his breath shallow, staring in disbelief at the scene before him—Aizen, alive and composed, with Hatake Sakumo and Hatake Kakashi standing silently by his side.
It didn't make sense. None of it did.
Aizen Sosuke, who should have died pinned to Hokage Rock, now stood before him—alive, unscarred, and calm as ever. And worse, he openly admitted that he was the mastermind behind the chaos consuming Konoha.
Why?
Minato couldn't comprehend it. He couldn't accept it.
He had told himself over and over that he wouldn't be shaken no matter what truth came out—but now, seeing that familiar, gentle smile on Aizen's face, all his composure shattered. Rage and heartbreak surged through him like fire.
"Why did you betray us?!" Minato roared, his voice trembling. "Why did you betray me! Why betray the village?! You already had everything—if you wanted to become Hokage, you could've just shown your strength! We all would have followed you! So why?!"
He took a step forward, tears and fury clouding his vision. "What about everyone's trust in you? What about everything we built together?! How can you destroy it all—and smile while doing it?! Answer me, Aizen!"
"Trust and reliance are the same thing, Minato-kun," Aizen said softly, his tone patient—almost pitying. "Even toward companions who have shared life and death with you, even toward those you love, you must remain cautious and composed. I should have taught you that long ago."
He smiled faintly, shaking his head like a teacher disappointed by an impulsive student.
"As for why I did this… the answer is simple. I'm ensuring that Konoha will not perish in the coming storm. It's a promise I made to someone." His gaze softened. "Congratulations, Minato-kun. You've passed the test. In the face of crisis, you showed courage, decisiveness, and the will to bear everything alone. That is something only a true leader can do."
"I'm asking you what you want!"
Minato's voice broke as he shouted back. His hand trembled, veins rising on his skin as chakra flickered around him. His blue eyes, usually calm and clear, burned red at the edges.
He had never felt anger like this before. Not even during war.
He felt betrayed. Mocked. Everything he had believed in, every conviction that had carried him this far, now seemed like a cruel joke. His mentor, his guiding light—his brother—had been manipulating him all along.
And yet… beneath all that rage, a small, desperate spark of hope refused to die.
What if this wasn't what it seemed? What if Aizen was deceived, or being controlled by something greater? What if this was still the same man he admired, buried beneath layers of manipulation?
He knew it was impossible. Every piece of evidence pointed to Aizen's guilt. Aizen himself had laid out the truth for him to see. And yet, Minato's heart—his foolish, stubborn heart—still refused to stop hoping.
But when Aizen's lips curved into a quiet, knowing smile, that fragile hope finally broke.
"What I want," Aizen said gently, "is someone who understands—and has the courage to lift the veil and walk beside me."
He adjusted his glasses, his tone calm, refined, and cruel in its serenity. "Kakashi has already done so. As have others. But unfortunately, it seems your perception of me is… too clouded, Minato-kun."
He paused briefly, his voice dipping lower, colder. "Though it pains me to say, I once told another talented shinobi something similar—a genius who lacked the vision to transcend his limits."
Then came the words that shattered what was left of Minato's world.
"Admiration," Aizen said, his tone as gentle as it was merciless, "is the feeling farthest from understanding. The Aizen Sosuke of Konoha—the man you thought you knew—never existed. Familiarity breeds illusion, Minato-kun. And illusions lead to blindness."
"…What are you talking about…?" Minato whispered hoarsely.
"Is that what we are to you?!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "Are we just… disposable to you?!"
"Yes."
The word cut through the air like a blade.
Minato froze, his breath caught in his throat.
Aizen's answer had been immediate—utterly devoid of hesitation or remorse.
Minato stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to reconcile the image before him—the man who once led with compassion, who inspired loyalty in all of Konoha—with the one speaking now, cold and absolute.
Outside, rain poured harder against the windows, black and heavy, echoing the weight of Aizen's words.
Still smiling faintly, Aizen looked at him as though nothing about this conversation was extraordinary.
"I have worked for Konoha all this time," he said, his tone perfectly calm. "Everything I've done has been to make it stronger. You could even say that eighty percent of Konoha's prosperity—its industries, its systems, its power—comes from me and the Seireitei."
He took a step forward, the light from the storm flickering across his glasses.
"If not for my influence, my planning, and my control, what do you think would have become of Konoha? Would it still stand as the world's strongest shinobi village?"
"It was me who developed the Blut Arterie and the Blut Vene. I was also the one who created the theoretical foundation of ninjutsu that gave Konoha its strategic advantage. The decision to remain passive was never mine—it was made by the village clans and the Hokage. It was all of you who grew complacent in false security, only realizing your weakness after being struck down."
Aizen's voice was calm—measured—but every word cut like a blade.
"The mental rehabilitation systems and the psychological research theories used on shinobi were all my work. I established the Konoha Ninjutsu Research Institute, and I pioneered the technology you now call the Mental Stability Treatment Program."
He adjusted his glasses slightly, eyes reflecting the storm outside.
"To put it simply, Minato-kun… if I hadn't held certain expectations of you, you'd have been nothing more than another leech feeding on my lifeblood."
The room fell silent.
"However," Aizen continued, his tone softening into something far more chilling, "those days are over. The experiment has now entered its next stage."
A faint smile curved his lips—polite, almost gentle—but his words were cold enough to still the air. It was the kind of cold that seeps into bone, the kind that silences breath.
And then came the words that froze every heart in the room.
(System Message: The first phase of Konoha's system construction has been successfully completed. Thank you to all researchers for your cooperation. Please proceed to the designated area. The next phase of the Seireitei Shinobi World Experiment will now begin.)
"…"
"…"
"…"
One by one, figures wearing white haori stepped forward from among the gathered crowd and silently formed ranks behind Aizen.
No one moved. No one spoke.
Every ninja who witnessed this could only watch in paralyzed disbelief.
They couldn't even find the words to describe what they were seeing.
Friends who had once laughed beside them, comrades who had fought shoulder to shoulder, lovers who had made quiet promises—all of them… walked toward Aizen with serene expressions, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn't despair. It wasn't shock. It wasn't even sorrow.
It was terror. Pure, suffocating terror.
Humans are creatures bound by emotion—by trust, affection, and shared struggle. But now, that fragile web was tearing apart in front of their eyes.
The friends who used to dream of a brighter tomorrow… smiled faintly and turned their backs.
The lovers who had promised never to part… gently released each other's hands.
The teammates who had always relied on one another… quietly removed their arms from each other's shoulders and joined Aizen's side.
Every step they took away from the crowd sounded like something breaking—something inside every heart that remained.
Even after all the puppets Aizen had secretly planted throughout Konoha had been destroyed, there were still this many who followed him willingly. Though no blood had been spilled, the truth was clear: Konoha had just lost a third of its power in an instant.
Aizen turned slightly, looking toward Kakashi. His smile was calm—almost kind.
"Let's go to the teleportation array," he said. "It's time to proceed with the next stage of the experiment."
"I know," Kakashi replied quietly, his tone unreadable.
He raised his wrist and twisted a small device. The air rippled like disturbed water—white noise flickered through the room, and in an instant, every one of those familiar figures vanished.
It was as if they had never existed.
The silence that followed was unbearable. The emptiness they left behind was more painful than any wound. It felt like someone had reached into their chests and ripped out a piece of their souls.
Minato's anguished cry shattered the stillness.
"Wait for me, Aizen! Wait for me!"
He slammed his kunai into the ground, channeling chakra through the seals etched upon it. The air before him split open, revealing a pitch-black rift that pulsed like a living thing.
"This jutsu tracks Aizen Sosuke's spatial signature!" he shouted to the stunned shinobi behind him. "If there's anything you don't understand—anything you still want to ask—then follow me! We'll confront him in the Forbidden Forest!"
His eyes burned red as he leapt headfirst into the dark rift.
A moment later, unable to accept what they had just witnessed, several other ninja followed him—charging through the attic and diving into the black void one after another.
The world twisted violently. A sickening sound filled their ears, like static tearing through space itself. Then came a brief moment of disorientation—weightlessness—and a damp, heavy air pressed against their skin.
When their vision cleared, they found themselves standing in an enormous, dimly lit hall. A massive teleportation array sprawled across the ground before them, glowing faintly beneath their feet. Hundreds of shinobi stood there already, silently waiting—eyes cold, unwavering.
And at the center of it all stood Aizen Sosuke.
He turned slowly, his expression serene—neither surprised nor amused. Only a faint trace of melancholy lingered in his eyes as he looked at the panting Minato, who could barely stand.
"So… he finally came."
Aizen's voice was soft, almost wistful, as if he had been expecting this moment all along.
And beneath that calm gaze, even the air itself seemed to tremble.
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