The battle between the Uchiha brothers had not gone unnoticed. Zetsu had been observing from the shadows, occasionally making comments.
"Ohoho~! Brothers turning on each other—it's one of those classic scenes! So entertaining, heehee!" White Zetsu said with exaggerated flair.
White Zetsu's abilities were all about concealment. Even the Byakugan struggled to detect him. And yet, Uchiha Sasuke could effortlessly spot and grab his spore clones, one after another.
No one could quite explain how Sasuke managed to notice them, but White Zetsu had developed a strong aversion to getting close to him. If it weren't for Black Zetsu's insistence, he'd have no interest in watching the Uchiha family drama unfold in person.
"Black Zetsu, why aren't you helping Obito? Why are you so obsessed with spying on Sasuke?" White Zetsu asked innocently, his expression filled with childlike confusion.
Black Zetsu didn't respond. His gaze was locked firmly on Sasuke's eyes.
The creatures of this shinobi world were indeed extraordinary—despite the distance, he could clearly see the intricate pattern within Sasuke's pupils.
Sasuke's Mangekyō Sharingan was unlike any other. More than its visual form, it gave off a visceral impression. Those eyes constantly exuded a sinister, ominous aura. Impossible to ignore. It was as if they were deliberately designed to draw attention.
Black Zetsu had lived for over a thousand years, and even he had never seen a Mangekyō like this. It was practically screaming,
"I'm a villain!" No wonder everyone assumed Sasuke was the mastermind behind the chaos.
But what truly shook Black Zetsu to the core… was the transfer of Indra's chakra.
As the true manipulator behind the scenes, Black Zetsu knew exactly who Indra's reincarnation was in this generation. So when he sensed Indra's chakra transferring from Sasuke to Orochimaru, he was thrown into a storm of conflicting emotions.
On one hand, it was satisfying to see the Sage of Six Paths get outplayed. Orochimaru had an uncanny knack for survival, which meant Indra's chakra might never reincarnate again. But with Orochimaru's mind now fused with Indra's power, the resulting variable was staggering—unpredictable, and potentially devastating to the Eye of the Moon Plan.
And besides… the changes happening across the shinobi world lately had been downright absurd, as if someone was making up new rules on the fly. Black Zetsu, the master manipulator, couldn't shake the feeling that another hand was stirring the pot—someone lurking in the dark, even deeper than him. Sasuke seemed more like a puppet thrust onto center stage, just like Obito and Madara had been under his manipulation.
Black Zetsu was watching Sasuke, hoping to uncover the identity of the real player behind the scenes. Someone who could transfer Indra's chakra without a trace... now that was terrifying.
...
At that very moment, Sasuke was about to do something truly inhuman.
"Itachi-san is already dead. Isn't it time to let it go? At least give him a little dignity in death," Kisame said cautiously, trying to appeal to Sasuke's reason. He wanted to give Itachi a proper burial.
"Dignity? You think Itachi deserves something like that?" Sasuke replied coldly.
With a flick of his fingers, he manipulated the surrounding mist to restrain Kisame, wrapping him up like a silkworm in a cocoon.
Then, with a swift motion, he ripped a chunk of flesh from Itachi's face, formed a series of hand seals, and slammed his palms down onto the ground in front of Kisame.
"Edo Tensei!"
"That's what you get for butting in! Since you care so much about Itachi, you can be the sacrifice to bring him back!"
Kisame didn't know what jutsu Sasuke had just used—he'd never seen Edo Tensei before. But he could feel it was something dangerous, something bad. He struggled with everything he had, but it was too late.
As Kisame screamed in agony, a wave of corrupted earth surged from the unknown and enveloped him, slowly reshaping into the figure of Itachi.
Edo Tensei was truly eerie. Sasuke had managed to turn a huge, hulking man like Kisame into a sickly, frail-looking Itachi.
Itachi opened his eyes, a brief flicker of confusion crossing his face.
His body felt numb, but not weak or in pain like before. The blindness, the illness, the looming death—it was all gone. He remembered everything clearly: his vision had gone black, and he'd died. So why…?
"To drag you back from the Pure Land, your shark-faced friend offered up his life. Touching, isn't it? Try not to be ungrateful," Sasuke said, his voice dripping with venom.
Itachi looked up and glared at him. His eyes were full of hatred, completely devoid of warmth.
"I know what you're thinking," Sasuke said, smirking. "You still think I'm not the real Uchiha Sasuke."
"Do you remember what you once said to me? You said, 'People live their lives bound by what they accept as correct and true. That's how they define reality.' You said you were just playing the role of the ideal older brother."
"But… what makes you so sure you were the only one acting? How do you know my old self wasn't just a performance too?"
Sasuke lifted his chin slightly, eyes gleaming with arrogance, as if he had always been a cunning mastermind. As if he'd forgotten how Itachi used to wipe the floor with him on the night of the massacre.
Sasuke had always been a master of putting on airs. Pretending? That was his specialty.
And Itachi, for once, seemed caught off guard. Sasuke continued,
"You always said power leads to arrogance—and that the Uchiha were a prime example."
"But you seem to forget that you're an Uchiha too. That arrogance runs through your veins. You're just as self-righteous as the rest—maybe even more so."
"You've always seen the world through your own lens, judging others by your own ideals. The moment you thought something was 'right,' you forced it onto everyone else—regardless of what they wanted."
"You played god. But your abilities never matched your delusions of grandeur. So when you ran into problems you couldn't solve, you didn't fix the issue—you silenced the ones who dared raise it."
Back when the Uchiha were wiped out, Itachi was only thirteen or fourteen. He probably didn't even have a fully formed sense of morality. And yet, he was utterly convinced that only he could resolve the clan's conflict with the village. He believed his plan was the only solution, and everyone else was just a clueless fool.
Letting a thirteen-year-old decide the fate of an entire clan—no one would write something that dumb in a third-rate soap opera.
"I've held this in for a long time," Sasuke said, his voice heavy with scorn. "You threw a child—an orphan—into Konoha, with no family, no protection. What made you think the village would treat him kindly?"
"Was it the deal you made with the higher-ups? Or were you threatening them?"
"Either way, spare me the idealism. Konoha had a million ways to turn me into a useless pawn without ever lifting a finger."
Emotional manipulation, neglect, psychological abuse… Konoha had mastered the art of poisoning people in broad daylight, all while making them smile and say thank you.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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