By a lake near Naka Shrine, a solemn Ninja stood. Clad in a black windbreaker adorned with the Uchiha clan crest, he observed the boy beside him.
"Fugaku, did you see the hand signs clearly?"
"I saw them..." The boy swallowed hard, masking his nervousness. "Snake-Ram-Monkey-Boar-Horse-Dog."
"It should be that, right?"
The man leaned toward him sternly. "Wrong. The last sign is Tiger."
Fugaku felt ashamed. His legs trembled uncontrollably, and he struggled to focus.
"The Great Fireball Technique is the Uchiha Clan's basic Fire Release skill. You are the young clan head. You must master it earlier than your peers. Do you hear me?"
"I hear you."
"Then try it."
Gathering chakra in his throat, Fugaku tilted his head back, stretching his neck.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A tiny flame sputtered from his mouth, no longer than two centimeters, like a flickered match.
Lowering his head, he felt the sting of failure. How he wished to hear the praise he craved: "As expected of my son."
But just as he prepared to apologize, the earth shook violently. The lake's surface seemed sliced by an invisible blade, and the ground sank abruptly.
"Father!"
Fugaku cried in terror, falling through a crack into icy water.
"Am I going to die?!"
He snapped awake. Darkness surrounded him, and the pungent smell of medicinal potions filled the air. His right arm throbbed painfully, preventing movement.
Where am I? What happened?
Pain racked his body, sharp and unrelenting. Cautiously, he lifted his left hand to explore. Thick bandages covered him entirely.
Closing his eyes, he sifted through his memories.
Finally, it surfaced. "I jumped off the waterfall!"
He stared blankly. "Could this be… Hell?"
A voice came from beside his ear.
"Are you awake?"
Fugaku turned his head, every movement sending a headache through his skull as if a Kunai had been driven into it.
Breathing deeply, he watched the figure approach methodically.
Through dim light, he saw a scythe gripped by hands that looked like withered wood, a black hem, and a Three-Tomoe Sharingan.
Fugaku's eyes widened. "Your eyes... are you Uchiha?"
The voice was flat. "You can think what you like."
"Outsiders cannot awaken the Sharingan, nor transplant one. You must be of my clan. In that case..." Fugaku paused. "Is this Konoha?"
The Old Man's tone was flat, yet tinged with nostalgia. "Konoha… I have not set foot there since Hashirama died."
Fugaku considered the words carefully. "Then you are a Rogue Ninja from Konoha?"
The old man laughed, a sound so sharp he nearly bent over.
"In a sense, I am indeed a Rogue Ninja of Konoha, though no one has officially declared it."
Fugaku pressed further. "Then why not return? I am the young clan head of the Uchiha. My father would reward you. Even as a Rogue Ninja, he can settle matters."
The old man gripped his scythe. "There is no going back. Some paths, once taken, cannot be undone. No matter the heart, one can only walk forward. There is no home to return to."
Fugaku's mind raced. "But my father said the Uchiha Clan has never produced a Rogue Ninja. I've never seen you before. Who are you, and where is this place?"
The old man remained calm. "This is the rift between life and death, the cycle of Reincarnation."
Fugaku shivered. "You mean… I'm dead?"
"Not entirely."
"Not entirely?!" Fugaku snapped. "Life and death are binary! What do you mean by 'not entirely'!"
"My clansman, you disappoint me," the old man said, shaking his head. "I thought you would understand life and death better."
"This is a world between the two. You wander here now. You will either return to your original world or move on to death… it depends on your next actions."
Fugaku struggled to grasp the meaning. "What do you want me to do?"
"It is simple. I want you to sever Karma in this world and create a world of winners, a world of peace, a world of love."
Fugaku frowned. "I don't understand."
"You will. One day, you will understand."
His heart sank.
"Do not make such a face. You should feel honored that I sought you out. This mission is yours—you are the chosen one."
Fugaku was incredulous. "I'm sorry. Though I am grateful you saved me, you've chosen the wrong person. I don't know how to sever Karma."
The old man shook his head. "Wrong. Fate chose you, not I."
"What?"
"You drifted into the underground passage I dug. I saved you. Is that not fate?"
Realizing the man before him was unhinged, Fugaku softened his tone. "You must have made a mistake. You wait for someone else. I am merely a joke of fate."
"I do not think so. I have been here thirty years. You are my first visitor, and likely my last."
Fugaku's anger and helplessness surged. "My father is Uchiha Clan Chief. No matter who you are, if you keep me imprisoned—"
The old man smiled faintly. "I haven't restricted your freedom. You can leave. But with these bodies, neither of us can leave this place."
Fugaku roared. "Who are you?!"
The old man leaned on his scythe, settled into a massive chair, and slowly said, "I am the ghost of the Uchiha—Uchiha Madara."
Fugaku froze. "Impossible… Madara died at the Valley of the End."
A mocking expression crossed the old man's face. "The world thinks I lost to Hashirama. Are winning and losing ever absolute?"
Despair hit Fugaku. If this was Madara, a hidden conspiracy was at play, and he would never escape knowing this secret.
The old man seemed to read his thoughts. "Do not struggle. I will need you to do many things. Since you have your life back, do not rush toward death."
"Of course, if you wish to die, you may. But then I will claim your Sharingan as payment for saving you."
Fugaku's hopelessness deepened.
"Please, release me. I have a friend, Uchiha Hayashi. He is stronger and more talented. I can help bring him here instead."
The old man's tone turned cold. "You still don't understand why you were chosen."
"I don't!"
"You will," the old man chuckled. "Soon, you will understand."
With that, he closed his eyes, returning the cave to silence.