Chapter 73: Help
"What are you doing here, Aizen?"
"I thought we could call each other Sosuke, Elder Danzo."
"We can't be called fellow travelers, nor can we say we're close. We're merely strangers capable of holding a conversation. I generally understand your thinking, but I believe it's wrong. You, on the other hand, understand my thinking, and you believe you're right. There's no need to discuss any relationship between us."
Danzo's cold tone cut through the dimly lit corridor as he walked beside Aizen. The Root's underground passage stretched endlessly ahead, half shrouded in darkness and half illuminated by the pale, ghostly glow that seemed to follow Aizen like moonlight.
To anyone watching, the contrast was striking. One side radiated a cold, pure white light. The other was swallowed by heavy shadow.
After his public lectures, Danzo had come to recognize the truth about himself: he was darkness incarnate. His theory was unlike any other. It had nothing to do with honor, love, or hope. It was a doctrine that dissected humanity's wickedness, the cruelty of the shinobi world, and the corruption of those in power.
It was a theory aimed not at individuals, but at the entire world.
As long as every great power possessed the ability to annihilate the others in an instant, no one would dare to start a war. The result would be mutual destruction, a ruin from which no one could recover. Even the most deranged madman would hesitate to create a world so suffocating that not even he could breathe within it.
And perhaps the most despairing realization of all was this: compared to the noble ideals of the Will of Fire or the pride of the Will of Stone, it was the darkness of the shinobi world that truly made sense.
Fear of death was universal. Every human shared it. No matter how many wars one endured, no matter how much blood had been spilled, that primal fear never vanished. People feared losing loved ones, their achievements, even the memory of their existence. Survival was instinct, and the darkness Danzo spoke of was built upon that very instinct, a perfect mirror of human nature's ugliness.
There was no true love or hate, no eternal vengeance or family honor. Everything boiled down to transactions, to gains and losses. Even public opinion was just another currency in that exchange. If there was no benefit, there was no need to care about it.
When profit appeared, even the righteous grew silent. When power promised reward, the high ranking and the violent would act first, for they understood the value of seizing opportunity.
The lower class might grow weary of war, but the upper class, the ones who stood to profit, would always leap into the quagmire once more.
Thus was born Danzo's absolute philosophy of dark peace. He had combined the inherent malice of mankind with the cold, pragmatic logic of Root. Together, they formed an unshakable framework, a perfect circle of fear and stability. For the first time, even Root's existence seemed justified.
When opportunities arose but public sentiment stood in the way, someone had to bear the burden of action. Someone had to move in the shadows.
And wasn't that exactly what Root was made for?
After reaching that understanding, Danzo found himself studying Aizen's serene expression. The man's calm unnerved him. Aizen had understood all this long before him, otherwise, he would never have invited him for that quiet drink in the Land of Rain.
But if that was the case… why hadn't Aizen acted?
That question gnawed at him. Danzo didn't believe for a second that Aizen had come merely to offer praise. For a man like him to appear so casually, there had to be an ulterior motive, a connection he intended to exploit.
Aizen Sosuke was not a man who shared interests with anyone.
After a long stretch of silence, Danzo finally spoke.
"What exactly do you want from me? Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be pursuing whatever it is you're planning?"
Aizen smiled faintly.
"This is a misunderstanding, Elder Danzo. Right now, what concerns you also concerns me. Your ideas hold great significance for the shinobi world."
"A big deal?" Danzo scoffed. "You already knew all of this long ago, didn't you?"
"That's different," Aizen replied, adjusting his glasses. "I don't represent the shinobi world."
Danzo stopped in front of an empty chamber and stepped inside, choosing a shadowed corner as if by habit. Aizen followed, sighing softly as he observed him.
"Although this might sound patronizing," Aizen said, his tone calm, "it's like watching a student independently derive a powerful formula. Even if it's already been discovered, it's still fascinating to see it unfold from scratch."
"...A useful formula?" Danzo muttered, his brow furrowing.
"Of course," Aizen answered. "It's the most precise solution available, ensuring equal destruction among all powers, a sword hanging over the entire world. Such balance would indeed bring peace."
Danzo stared at him in disbelief. Aizen's gaze remained steady, his words delivered without hesitation.
"However," he continued, "a world like that decays quickly. When everyone fears destruction equally, the drive for progress dies. The strong stop striving for the future because the future becomes predictable. The greatest source of ambition, the hunger for profit, is gone. In peace too long sustained, even the rational will begin to crave chaos."
Aizen's tone softened, almost wistful.
"Deprived of the thrill of conflict, people will begin to long for it again. War reshuffles power, awakens passion, and renews purpose. It is a cycle as natural as breathing."
"So yes," he said with a faint smile, "your theory is effective, for now. But it's not sustainable. I have another way. One that may achieve peace without stagnation. Still, I hesitate to use it. Once acted upon, there is no turning back. That is the nature of reality."
Danzo watched him in silence, his expression hardening. Another way, another grand theory, he thought bitterly. Aizen always has one.
To him, the man before him was a paradox, too intelligent to be trusted, too composed to be understood. The shinobi world had bathed in blood for generations, and yet here was Aizen, speaking of peace as if it were a scientific equation.
You're not trying to save us, Danzo thought. You're trying to dissect us.
Aizen seemed to sense his skepticism. His gaze flickered toward Danzo, eyes gleaming faintly behind his glasses.
"I think you may have misunderstood me," he said softly. "Even I can't move the entire world. All I can do is guide its flow in secret, adjusting it where necessary. I'm not here to make everyone advance. I'm merely maintaining what I call... social metabolism."
"Metabolism?" Danzo echoed, his tone wary.
"It's the natural process of evolution," Aizen replied, his expression serene as ever. He slipped his hands into his haori, his eyes half lidded in calm detachment.
"Just like how the ninja replaced the samurai and the onmyoji of the past," Aizen said calmly. "The capable will always push the incompetent aside. And those deemed incompetent will inevitably develop other abilities to survive. It's a natural cycle, one that requires no interference from me."
His voice was soft but filled with authority, echoing through the dim corridors of the Root.
"Just like the Red Queen in the story," he continued, "I don't need to guide or control anything. Human instinct drives itself forward. The desire to run, to chase, to achieve, it's written deep within our genes. Even when we've attained something, we crave more. We compete for greater gains, and in doing so, we inevitably diminish the gains of others."
He turned his gaze toward the shadowed wall.
"It's possible to expand the pie, to increase total resources, but the desires of humanity expand faster than any supply. You can never satisfy infinite hunger. So, it's never about what I want to do, it's about what they will inevitably do. Do you remember the complaints of the minor clans absorbed into Konoha during its rise? That, too, was natural. The slowest runner will always be eliminated."
Danzo frowned, his visible eye narrowing.
"Even if they run faster than their predecessors?" he asked.
"Yes," Aizen replied smoothly. "Because it isn't about speed, it's about proportion. No matter how much progress they make, if others move faster, they fall behind all the same."
Danzo's silence lingered before he finally spoke.
"So, you deliberately created this environment of struggle and competition?"
Aizen smiled faintly. "Created? No. I simply acknowledged what already existed."
Danzo knew Aizen wasn't lying, but he also wasn't telling the full truth.
Yes, people naturally strive to improve. Even as children, one takes pride in surpassing others, whether skipping stones farther or running faster. The admiration of peers fuels ambition. And when some advance while others remain stagnant, those left behind are, by definition, regressing.
That was a natural law. But Aizen's world wasn't one of mild competition. It was one of endless pressure.
Aizen's philosophy turned that instinct into an invisible whip, one that lashed at all humanity. People were no longer simply motivated. They were driven. Every soul, every village, every nation became part of a vast, accelerating vortex, endlessly climbing, endlessly consuming.
Those who fell behind didn't die, at least not immediately. Modern systems now supported the old and the weak. Yet, once someone fell off that infinite train of progress, there was no returning to it.
The world of innovation, of discovery, of meaning, it would move on without them.
And that sense of loss, that despair of being left behind, became fuel for the machine itself, driving those still aboard to run faster, to compete harder, to never stop.
No one could halt it now.
Aizen's voice broke the silence again.
"In just over a year, haven't you noticed how rapidly the ninja world has changed? How many new theories and technologies have emerged?"
Danzo's brow furrowed. "…What do you mean?"
"For instance," Aizen said, pushing his glasses with a faint smile, "your Theory of Darkness. The Strategic Balance Theory proposed by Onoki of Iwagakure. The Trade Interaction Theory from Sunagakure. Different names, same essence. You are not the only one contemplating this world."
Danzo's face darkened. Aizen's words dripped with both truth and mockery.
"In an ever accelerating world," Aizen continued, "new ideas will always arise to challenge the old. The Heavenly Technique will be refined. Konoha's reverse summoning now uses chakra seal synchronization. Our own research into the original chakra signal has led us to new conclusions, our next focus is the moon."
His voice softened, but it carried the weight of inevitability.
"I'd estimate that within five to ten years, conflict will extend beyond this planet. When that time comes, your Theory of Darkness will be questioned and replaced. That's not a threat, Elder Danzo. It's simply a notice."
He smiled gently, his tone almost kind.
"So please, move forward. Spread your ideas. Publish them, share them, let them evolve. In this accelerating world, even flawed theories have value, they push others toward the truth. You might even discover an answer that fits this era better than mine."
Aizen bowed slightly. "If you need my help with distribution, printing, or publication, I'll ensure it reaches every corner of the shinobi world. I look forward to seeing where your ideas lead."
Danzo stared at him from the shadows, reading the smile that masked endless calculation. He could see it clearly now, the gentle menace behind Aizen's civility.
After a long silence, he exhaled, straightened his back, and reached out his hand.
"Then print me one million copies," Danzo said firmly. "The sooner, the better. Let my Theory of Darkness spread across every village in the ninja world. If they haven't embraced it yet, then I'll make them."
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