"Boom! Boom! Boom—!!"
Boulders imploded. Steel beams twisted into splinters. Several unlucky ninja were dragged in before they could even scream.
"Ahhh—!"
A single shriek tore through the chaos.
Akimichi Chōza—pillar of the Ino–Shika–Chō trio...was impaled, skewered by Danzo's surging Wood Style.
The vines didn't stop there...wood erupted from within his body, tearing him apart from the inside out, reducing him to nothing but a spray of blood and shredded flesh.
"Chōza!"
Sarutobi Hiruzen and the survivors stared in horror, momentarily paralyzed. For Shikaku, Choza was more than a comrade—they'd stood together as friends, brothers-in-arms, for decades.
For Nara Shikaku and Yamanaka Inoichi, watching Chōza die was like losing family. Not in theory. In real, bloody, gut-wrenching reality.
Rage and grief slammed into them like a physical blow.
"Don't lose your heads! All units—Danzo has betrayed Konoha! We must put him down."
Hiruzen's roar cut through the agony. His hands blurred through seals as flames gathered in his lungs.
"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!"
A blazing dragon erupted, its scales of fire roaring as it shot toward Danzo.
"Let me add to that!"
Kakashi's voice snapped like a whip. Unlike his canon self, this Kakashi was a master of Lightning Style—his hands seals flying at insane speed.
"Ninja Art: Lightning Water Dragon Bomb!"
A monstrous water dragon burst forth, its body laced with writhing lightning—crashing toward Danzo with annihilating force.
"Shadow Possession Jutsu!"
Shikaku's shadow lunged, sharp and precise.
"Mind Transfer Jutsu!"
Inoichi's desperate cry split the air, his chakra lashing out to seize Danzo's mind.
Every high-ranking shinobi on the battlefield unleashed their fury.
Danzo had crossed the line.
Now, the whole of Konoha was going to bury him.
BOOOOM!
A storm of jutsu collided atop Danzo like heaven's wrath. The ground shattered. The sky screamed. Explosions deafened ears, choking the world in smoke and fire. The forest around them was obliterated, leveled to a crater.
Hiruzen squinted through the swirling haze.
"Did it work!? Shikaku, Inoichi—report!"
Nara Shikaku's face was ghostly pale, sweat dripping down his cheek.
"No… it failed. Just like before. He… he somehow undid the damage again."
Yamanaka Inoichi's voice trembled.
"Same here! My Mind Transfer worked—I know we hit him, I felt the feedback, it should've torn his mind apart! But… just like before, it's as if nothing ever happened. He just—recovered. Like the last attack was all an illusion."
Hiruzen Sarutobi's expression twisted, fury mixing with dread. He suddenly realized the truth, and anger flashed across his face.
"Danzō!!!"
A mocking voice echoed through the clearing.
"No need to shout, Hiruzen. My hearing is just fine."
The smoke parted. Danzo stepped forward—calm, untouched, not a single scratch on his body.
All of Konoha's might—useless.
Hyūga Hiashi's eyes trembled, Byakugan veins bulging as he stared at Danzo.
"What… what the hell is this? Some kind of kekkei genkai?"
Before anyone else could voice their confusion, Hiruzen answered, his face ashen and voice grim.
"It's not… It's the Uchiha's forbidden jutsu—
The Izanagi."
"Izanagi?!"
Shikaku's eyes narrowed, mind already racing, but he forced his voice steady.
Hiruzen's lips twisted with regret, his age showing in the lines on his face.
"I'm sorry. It's my fault—I should have warned you. If I'd been more clear… maybe Chōza—"
But Shikaku cut him off, shaking his head slightly.
"With all due respect, Hokage-sama—
Right now, we need facts. Tell us everything about this Izanagi."
Hiruzen closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of his years settling onto his shoulders.
"Izanagi… is one of the Uchiha clan's most forbidden jutsu."
He opened his eyes with a sad glim in them.
"It allows the user to turn any injury or even death itself into nothing more than an illusion. For the cost of a single Sharingan, they rewrite reality—changing their fate for as long as their chakra and eyes hold out."
Shikaku's eyes widened slightly.
"So every time we kill him… he just erases it? Like it never happened?"
Hiruzen nodded.
"Exactly. So long as he has Sharingan in reserve… Danzo is effectively immortal."
A hush fell over the battered battlefield.
Kakashi, who had been listening quietly, suddenly gritted his teeth and clutched at his left eye...
Only to realize, painfully, that the familiar weight was long gone.
His face twisted with fresh grief...half memory, half regret.
For a brief second, the ache of old wounds cut deeper than any physical injury.
All around them, the others were breathing hard, covered in sweat and dirt, chakra spent. Even Hiashi was pale, knuckles white from strain.
They'd given everything they had...and Danzo still stood untouched.
"So what if you tell them now, Hiruzen?"
Danzo's voice oozed contempt, a wicked grin twisting his lips as he brought his hands together.
"It's already too late. All you've done is make their despair that much deeper."
He raised his arms, and even though several of his implanted Sharingan had already gone blind from Izanagi's cost, plenty remained.
"Wood Style: World of Entangling Roots"
With a single, merciless motion, Danzo unleashed a tidal wave of Wood Style—far larger, faster, and wilder than before.
The battlefield erupted into chaos.
Monstrous trees and jagged roots exploded from the earth, tearing up stone, crushing fallen bodies, and swallowing the survivors whole.
Desperate shouts rang out.
"Earth Style: Mud Wall!"
"Lightning Net!"
"Gentle Step: Rotation!"
Every ninja left standing threw everything they had at the onslaught—but the scale was overwhelming.
The entire world dissolved into a choking storm of dirt, splintered trees, and suffocating dust. Screams and jutsu flashes were swallowed by the carnage.
No one could see what happened.
No one knew who was still alive.
--
Elsewhere…
Obito, still swaggering around in full Zoro cosplay—green wig, bandana, swords and all—sauntered through the battered Konoha streets with a bored look on his face.
He glanced up at the collapsing Hokage district, then at the distant tremors and flashes from Danzo's personal disaster zone.
"Huh. You'd think the Leaf's finest would all be over there throwing their lives away for 'the will of fire,'" he muttered, twirling a sword over his shoulder.
But something didn't add up.
Obito frowned dramatically, striking a swordsman pose.
"Now where the hell are Asuma and Kurenai?" he muttered, scanning the rooftops.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face as inspiration struck.
"Wait—don't tell me. Asuma's off somewhere playing family man while the village burns… and Kurenai's probably looking for a real swordsman to keep her company tonight."
Obito swaggered forward, tone mock-solemn.
"Don't worry, Asuma—I'll take real good care of her. Someone's gotta teach her about handling a real katana. You know, show her what three-sword (hole) style really means."
He let out a low whistle, grinning.
"Bet Kurenai's tired of weak chakra and tobacco breath anyway."
"That's just fate. Don't take it too hard, Asuma—at least now you've got time to work on your smoke rings… and maybe pick up a hobby that doesn't involve getting cucked."
With a lazy spin of his blade, Obito delivered the final insult:
"Ninja Rule #43: If you can't protect your woman, don't blame her when she jumps ship."
Obito winked at an imaginary camera, then kept strutting down the ruined street like he owned it.
Then he thought while continuing to walk…
If I ever run into Kurenai, guess it's only right I help her out. Some lessons, after all, need a little trustworthy guidance.
Then he suddenly stopped, glancing back over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.
"That Danzo is really crashing the fuck out," he muttered.
Obito had tweaked Danzo's setup to make him strong—brutally strong but not without consequences. There was no way the old bastard would survive long at this rate.
Judging by the scale of that last jutsu, the battle should've ended already.
Obito's curiosity flickered. Who managed to survive? He hadn't exactly told Danzo to spare anyone, after all.
Still, he didn't want Danzo dying too soon—not before the next phase of his plan was in motion.
If Danzo kept going berserk like this, there might not be enough left of him to use.
Obito clicked his tongue, already weighing his next move.
--
On the other side, the battlefield had fallen eerily silent.
The ground was a tangle of shattered earth, jagged tree roots, and splintered trunks. Dust choked the air, swirling through beams of fading sunlight. Blood stained everything—leaves, bark, the cracked stone beneath.
Bodies lay scattered, broken and twisted in unnatural shapes. Some ninja were impaled through the chest or spine, pinned like grotesque insects against towering wooden spears.
One unlucky soul had a tree trunk burst straight through his mouth, his eyes wide and unblinking—another's skull was split by a branch that erupted clean through his eye sockets, bark and bone fused in a final, horrible grimace.
Limbs jutted at impossible angles. A severed hand, still clutching a kunai, hung from a low branch, dripping red.
Danzo knelt on the ruined ground, huffing for air, sweat streaming down his gaunt face. The battlefield was silent except for his ragged breathing and the distant crackle of burning wood.
His heart twisted with despair. He had always wanted to be Hokage—he'd sworn he'd do anything to protect the village, go to any length.
But this… slaughtering his own forces, turning Konoha into a graveyard… this was never part of the plan.
Now he was nothing but a rebel—a traitor—thanks to that damned masked bastard. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fight the compulsion. He couldn't resist the strings pulling him.
Slowly, Danzo forced himself to his feet, stumbling toward the shattered trunk where Hiruzen lay. The old Hokage was immobilized, impaled through the side by jagged wood, but still stubbornly clinging to life.
Cough, cough—
Hiruzen lifted his head with effort, blood trickling down his chin. His eyes, even clouded with pain, burned with grief and accusation.
"Danzo… is this what you wanted?"
He rasped, his voice thin but heavy with sorrow.
"I can't even find you in the man standing before me…
The village—the people… they'll never forgive this."
Hiruzen's breath hitched.
"You always said you'd do anything for Konoha… but you forgot what it means to protect, Danzo. You've lost yourself chasing a twisted dream."
Danzo's lips parted, as if to answer, but the words died in his throat.
Something dark surged inside him—his body jerked, strings of chakra tugging his nerves.
Suddenly, a massive wooden branch shot out from his palm, wrapping around Hiruzen's throat and squeezing tight. The old Hokage's eyes bulged, his last words crushed to silence as the wood immobilized him completely.
Danzo's hand flashed through a sealing sign, locking Hiruzen in place—alive, but helpless.
His heart pounded, shame and rage warring inside.
Obito's calm, cold words echoed in his mind:
"Don't kill Hiruzen, just yet...he'll make an excellent execution to topple publicly. With his execution, you will take the Hokage's seat without question."
Danzo's gaze swept the blood-soaked clearing.
"Hyūga Hiashi and Yamanaka Inoichi must live."
He looked around, already searching for the two battered survivors.
Then Obito's voice changed, dropping lower, almost playful.
"As for Shikaku? Well..."
A pause. Then, pure menace:
"Kill him."
The Wood Style under Danzo's command surged, twisting into a monstrous fist.
As the massive wooden fist crashed toward him, Shikaku barely had time to react. In that brief instant before oblivion, time seemed to slow.
Memories flickered through his mind...of shogi games, late-night strategy sessions, quiet moments with his wife, and most of all, his son.
But one more image rose up...his friend Chōza, already fallen in the carnage.
Chōza… guess I'll be joining you soon, old friend. Save me a seat at the table.
Shikamaru…
He let out a shaky breath, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.
You're even lazier than me, but you're a genius. You always were. If only I had more time to see how far you'd go.
He closed his eyes, letting his final words echo silently through the bond he shared with his son.
Shikamaru, listen—no matter how hard things get… you keep moving forward. Protect your friends. Use that brilliant mind of yours to make the village a little less troublesome. And—tell your mother I'm sorry for all the times I forgot to take out the trash…
He felt no fear...just regret, a bittersweet ache.
This is the end for me… but for you, it's just the beginning. Don't let this world break you, son. I'm proud of you. Always.
The wooden fist struck, the impact so violent it shattered bone and flesh, erasing him from the world in an instant.
Heh… no more shogi rematches, huh? What a drag.
With that, the Nara clan's shadow strategist slipped quietly into the void, his last thoughts with his son, his family, and the village he loved.
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