Tonight, the Uchiha clan of Konoha will vanish from history.
All except Uchiha Sasuke.
Zeldris gazed up at the moon—bright, round, and tinged with an eerie red hue.
It almost looked embarrassed, like it knew what was about to happen and didn't want to witness it.
He stood motionless for a second, eyes lost in thought.
Then, without a word, he leapt into the air, his figure vanishing into the shadows of the night—just like Uchiha Itachi before him.
The village lay in its usual silence, the kind that made even the chirping of crickets seem too loud.
But peace was just a lie waiting to be torn apart.
Uchiha Clan Compound — Moments Later
Most of the clan members were fast asleep, wrapped in dreams and unaware that their legacy had minutes to live.
Only a few sentries remained at key outposts, doing their nightly rounds—not because they suspected anything, but because Konoha's police work never slept. Bureaucracy, after all, was eternal.
Two guards strolled casually through the quiet streets.
"So anyway," one said, hands behind his head,
"I told him, 'you ever try arguing with a Hyuga? That Byakugan sees through your excuses too.'"
They both chuckled.
Then—
Thud.
A black figure dropped from above, landing gracefully in front of them.
Konoha ANBU uniform. Sword on his back. Masked face. Sharingan glowing faintly in the moonlight like a pair of bloody rubies.
"?!"
"Who the hell are you? This is the Uchiha district—no outsiders allowed!"
The two tensed up, but then relaxed.
"…Oh. It's just Itachi."
"Damn, man, don't sneak up on us like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack. Mission just ended?"
The other added with a grin,
"Yeah, ANBU's tough, huh? Go get some rest. But first you gotta—"
Shlick.
A cold silver arc swept through the air.
One of the guards crumpled to the ground, his blood spraying across the cobblestones in a wet, sickening arc.
His partner froze in place, eyes wide with horror, voice trembling.
"I-Itachi… you… what… what are you doing?!"
Itachi's eyes, glowing red, were empty. A god of death in a shinobi's uniform.
His sword dripped red.
The second guard barely had time to scream before Itachi disappeared from view—
—and reappeared behind him.
He fell like a puppet with its strings cut.
The massacre had begun.
And the air over the Uchiha compound grew heavy with the scent of blood.
Konoha Police Force Headquarters
Two more Uchiha guards stood watch outside the entrance. The night breeze made one of them shiver.
He turned to his partner.
"Man, you ever feel like the moon's judging you?"
His companion blinked.
"No?"
Before the conversation could go any further, the first guard froze mid-turn, face pale.
On top of a nearby telephone pole stood a lone figure cloaked in shadows.
"W-Who the hell?!"
The second guard followed his gaze, and his breath caught in his throat.
"?! When did he—?!" he whispered, hands instinctively going to his weapons.
They stared, unsure whether to attack or scream for help.
The figure didn't move. He just stood there, moonlight casting his shadow long across the ground.
Finally, one guard managed to croak out:
"I said—who are you?!"
The shadow shifted.
Zeldris appeared before them in a blink, standing just close enough to make it deeply uncomfortable.
He gave them a pleasant, almost customer-service-like smile.
"Relax," he said, placing a finger to his lips.
"Shhh. I'm just here to help the Uchiha clan."
"…Huh?"
Both guards blinked.
"Help us?" one muttered, utterly baffled.
"Help with what?"
Then the other guard narrowed his eyes.
Wait a second… that face… why does it look—
Suddenly, his expression twisted in horror.
"Y-you're—!"
His partner, still completely in the dark, looked at him like he was losing it.
"What? Who is he?"
The trembling guard managed to speak, each word like a death sentence:
"He's… Zeldris."
The name dropped like a stone in a still pond.
The second guard's face turned the color of unwashed socks.
"WHAT?!"
Zeldris tilted his head, feigning innocence.
"Oh no. You actually recognize me?" he sighed dramatically.
"Well, congrats. You just won the worst lottery imaginable."
He smiled again, wide and disturbingly sincere.
To the two terrified guards, that smile wasn't friendly.
It was the smile of a devil who enjoyed his work.
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