Four days later, at three in the morning.
The world was still, Konoha blanketed in snow and silence. Only the patrol shinobi stirred while the rest of the village slumbered.
In the Uchiha compound, Gen lay on a warm bed, eyes closed but mind sharp. His consciousness was already elsewhere, slipping into the hidden research base outside the village through the tether of his soul.
The Soul–Soul Fruit once had two crippling flaws. First, souls could not be extracted unless the victim felt fear. Second, Homies could not be commanded directly through spiritual communication; without words, they were deaf and inert.
But Gen had circumvented one of these weaknesses.
By combining the fruit's power with the Spirit Transformation Technique, he could guide Homies with thought alone, bypassing the silence.
The four wandering shinobi whose bodies he had seized had become special Homies of their own—vessels bound by his fragments of soul. Strong as his spirit was, even one-eighth of it was enough to animate them into something indistinguishable from living men.
Still, when it came to research of this magnitude, Gen trusted no one but himself. His true body would see everything.
Deep underground, the laboratory lights glowed dimly. In the eastern chamber, three cloaked figures stood guard outside while one entered. Puppet No. 1 began affixing instruments to Uchiha Yuichi's shaved head and body, sensors designed to capture fluctuations in brain and chakra activity.
The boy had been starved four days, left parched and trembling. The moment the probes clicked into place, the noise jarred him from his stupor. His lips cracked open.
"Wh…what do you want…?"
No answer.
The puppet continued its work, covering his scalp in bristling wires until his head resembled a hedgehog.
Then it stepped out, leaving him to slump forward, conserving the scraps of energy left in his body.
Minutes later, the heavy door opened again.
All four puppets filed inside, hands flashing through seals. Together they wove a genjutsu—not powerful, a simple C-rank, but carefully altered by Gen's guidance.
Its purpose was subtle; not to overwhelm, but to dull awareness, to make the victim overlook discrepancies that should not be missed.
Puppet No. 1 slapped Yuichi's face sharply. "Wake up."
The boy's head lifted, his voice a broken whisper. "Kill… kill me…"
"We won't kill you," the puppet said with a mocking smile. "On the contrary, we've brought you a companion. Someone you know very well."
Through his bleary vision, Yuichi saw her. A little girl, no older than nine, black hair falling over round cheeks, dressed in an orange coat. Her mouth was taped shut, eyes brimming with tears, her small body trembling.
Yuichi's heart lurched. "Sister…? Sister! Why are you here!?"
She tried to speak through the gag, sobbing incoherently, her gaze begging him for help.
Rage tore through his weakness, clearing his mind. "Bastards! Let her go!"
The puppet chuckled coldly. "How could we? We went through such trouble to catch her after our operative in the Mist was exposed. Your clan's dōjutsu, the Sharingan, rumor says it awakens through loss. We'll see if your sister is truly your 'bond.'"
"No… don't you dare..."
But his plea was cut short. Two black-robed puppets moved as one. One slit the girl's throat, the other drove a kunai deep into her chest.
Her muffled cry broke into silence. Blood spilled down her front, pooling at her feet, her eyes wide with horror before dimming to emptiness.
In that instant, Gen's trick revealed itself. The 'girl' was no innocent, merely another puppet wrapped in Transformation, a soul hidden within to maintain the illusion.
As the blade cut, the spirit shifted seamlessly into its partner's arm, sustaining the deception long enough to be convincing.
Yuichi knew nothing of this. To him, his sister had just died before his eyes.
A guttural scream ripped from his throat. His body convulsed against the restraints, veins bulging, his eyes erupting scarlet. The single tomoe in his Sharingan spun wildly, splitting into two.
Beep-beep-beep—
Monitors blared. Lights flashed in a cascade of colors as the instruments captured the surge in brain activity.
Puppet No. 1 leaned close, studying the eyes with false amusement. "Ahh… the rumors were true. Your sister was indeed your precious bond."
"Hu… hu…" Yuichi panted heavily, tears streaming as his Sharingan glared, bloodshot and burning. His voice rasped with venom. "You'd better kill me now. Because if I live, I'll kill you. I'll kill all of you and burn Kirigakure to ash!"
The puppet sneered. "Tsk. Empty threats. In the Blood Mist, we aren't frightened by words. With just two tomoe, you wouldn't even match one of our jōnin."
He snapped his fingers. "Dispose of the body."
"Yes."
Two puppets dragged the 'corpse' away, leaving a streak of blood across the floor.
"Stop! Don't touch her!" Yuichi's roar was cut short by the hilt of a kunai slamming into his neck. Darkness claimed him.
…
The same process repeated in the western laboratory. This time the illusion was of a younger brother.
Uchiha Mori too broke under the trauma, his single tomoe blooming into two. Another puppet was lost to maintain the ruse, but the data was secured.
Through the soul-link, the results flowed back into Gen's consciousness. Lying quietly in his bed in Konoha, he absorbed every detail, analyzing with icy focus.
Somewhere within this suffering lay the key.
If he could isolate the truth behind the Sharingan's evolution, it would change everything for him, and perhaps even for the doomed children caught in his experiment.