"...Danzō."

Hiruzen Sarutobi finally lifted his gaze to his old comrade. His voice was soft, tinged with a painful hesitation, yet the words carried a hidden steel beneath their restraint.

"Someone... wants to see you."

The air seemed to freeze—

Then, without warning, a torrent of water as sharp as a thousand blades ripped through the office like lightning, slicing straight for Danzō's throat.

Water Release: Water Blade!

The attack was merciless, faster than the eye could follow, leaving no room for hesitation.

Yet Danzō did not flinch. His expression remained composed, as if he had long anticipated such a greeting. His body quivered faintly—and in the next instant, countless withered branches erupted from his flesh. They twisted and interlocked into a grotesque barrier, intercepting the water blade with a shriek of tearing friction.

Senju Tobirama's eyes narrowed sharply, recognition flashing through them.

"...Big Brother's cells?!"

But something was wrong. This was not the radiant, life-brimming Wood Release of Hashirama Senju. What Danzō conjured was a mockery—wood stripped of vitality, reeking of decay, as if the very essence of life had been reversed into death.

Cold. Sinister. Defiled.

Danzō's gaze shifted from Tobirama to Hiruzen, and his tone sank into a bitter rasp.

"So... Orochimaru has already played his hand and resurrected you, Sensei."

His lips curled in a humorless smirk. "Hiruzen... are you still blind? The moment Tobirama returned, Konoha's Hokage ceased to be you. His shadow now eclipses your seat of power."

His words cut like a knife, cruel and deliberate.

"But I don't blame you. Someone as weak-willed as you could never resist his authority. And as for me—" his one visible eye gleamed with venom, "—to him, I am nothing more than a pawn tainted by the Uchiha. Whether I bear a Sharingan or not, he will still cast me aside. The accusation is just a convenient excuse for him to gain more control in the village."

"Ridiculous!"

For once, Tobirama's cold self-control shattered, his voice laced with fury. "Twisting words... Uchiha trickery! You dare use such pathetic provocations before me?"

But Hiruzen's brow furrowed. The sting of Danzō's accusations wormed deep into his heart, echoing with uncomfortable truth. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tobirama's voice cut across him, sharp as steel.

"Enough! This man is already lost. What stands before us is no longer Danzō Shimura, but a puppet—corrupted by that accursed Gen's malice."

Tobirama's hands blurred into seals, faster than the eye could follow. Another wave of water surged forth, denser and more violent than before, roaring down upon Danzō.

This time, Danzō's calm cracked. His palm snapped open, revealing what he had hidden even from Root.

A Mangekyō Sharingan.

Tobirama's chest tightened. "You... hid it in your palm?!"

The eye spun with merciless speed, its power spilling outward in suffocating waves. The withered branches around Danzō convulsed, reshaping into vein-like growths that burrowed into his flesh. They twisted and condensed into a jagged, rotting blade that pulsed with malignant chakra.

"The Jumang Blade..." Danzō growled, his voice low, guttural.

The Sharingan flared, crimson light searing across the battlefield. The blade throbbed with the power of death itself, radiating an ominous aura as though the gates of the underworld had cracked open.

With a single swing, the air split apart.

A pillar of crimson energy tore through the Hokage's office, annihilating wood, stone, and steel in its path.

BOOM!

The explosion rattled Konoha to its very foundations. The Hokage's office collapsed in a cascade of rubble, smoke and fire choking the night sky.

When the dust cleared, Danzō descended lightly onto the broken street—only to find the ground beneath him crawling with intricate sealing arrays.

Four blazing pillars of fire erupted around him, encircling him like the jaws of a trap.

But Danzō reacted instantly. His foot slammed down, and a mass of withered branches shot upward, spearing through two Anbu mid-formation. Blood splattered the stones as their bodies crumpled.

The array shattered.

Danzō leapt back, evading the remnants of the trap with sharp precision, his cloak fluttering amidst the flames.

All around, the district was deserted. Not a single villager remained—Tobirama and Hiruzen had ensured the evacuation before the clash began.

The battlefield was theirs alone.

Danzo slowly emerged from the ruins, dust drifting off his shoulders as he stepped into the moonlight. His movements were deliberate, almost regal, yet every footfall carried the weight of decay. The hem of his robe whispered against the broken stone, while his right hand—etched with Hashirama's stolen cells and crowned with a grotesque Sharingan—seemed to breathe with a life of its own. The eye spun madly, radiating a cold, malignant aura that seemed to twist the very air around him.

Senju Tobirama and Hiruzen Sarutobi stood a distance away, their silhouettes outlined against the broken Hokage Tower. Both men watched Danzo with grim silence.

Finally, Hiruzen's voice broke through, heavy with both disbelief and sorrow.

"Danzo… how could you go so far as to desecrate the First Hokage's body? To wield his cells like a weapon…"

His words lingered in the air, but Tobirama remained silent. His jaw tightened, yet there was no rebuke in his eyes. Hiruzen understood. His teacher, too, had walked that dangerous line in pursuit of knowledge. Perhaps even Tobirama would not completely condemn such a choice.

Still, Hiruzen's gaze fell on the swirling Sharingan. Its power was undeniable, terrifying. He thought back to Fugaku Uchiha's eyes, to the pressure they had exerted mere moments ago. For a fleeting second, an uncomfortable thought gripped him: If this was what it took to protect the village… was Danzo entirely wrong?

Shaking the hesitation from his mind, he asked quietly, "Danzo… how much of yourself is left? How much of your sanity remains?"

Danzo's lips curved into a thin, joyless smile.

"Sanity? Hiruzen, I've never seen more clearly in my life. But my clarity isn't yours. My truth isn't yours."

Hiruzen's voice softened, almost pleading. "Then stop this madness. Don't fight us. Let Sensei help you—free you from the curse of those eyes before it consumes you."

Danzo tilted his head slightly, and the eerie glow of the Sharingan reflected off his face, bathing him in crimson. His voice came low and contemptuous, laced with a cold pity.

"Hiruzen… the one shackled here isn't me. It's you. Still chained to your master's ghost. Still ruling through his shadow. But shadows, no matter how long they linger, belong to the dead. Tobirama Senju is just that—a relic of another era. Nothing more."

At those words, Tobirama's expression hardened, his brow furrowing. He did not waste another moment arguing. Instead, he leaned closer to his old pupil and spoke in a low, firm tone.

"Monkey. Enough. We can't afford hesitation any longer."

Hiruzen drew in a long breath. He could feel the weight of years pressing on his shoulders—the endless compromises, the sacrifices, the ghosts of comrades past. Finally, with trembling hands, he removed the Hokage's cloak, letting it fall silently to the ruined ground behind him.

When he lifted his head, his face bore the solemn dignity of a man prepared to kill or die. His hands blurred into seals, molding chakra with lethal resolve.

Danzo, unflinching, raised his withered blade. Around him, the very air shuddered. Space itself seemed to bend, warping with the strange fusion of wood, eye, and curse. The night grew colder, and the silence of the village pressed down like a suffocating blanket.

Under the pale glow of the moon, Danzo advanced from the wreckage of the Hokage's Office, each step echoing through the abandoned streets.

For a moment, Hiruzen stared at his old friend's back—the lonely silhouette striding forward, divorced from humanity, carrying nothing but curses and ambition. Danzo seemed less like a man now and more like a shadow abandoned by its light, awaiting only judgment.

A pang of pity pierced Hiruzen's heart. Despite all the blood and betrayal, despite all the darkness coiling around Danzo, some part of him still wanted to believe there was a way back.

And in that moment of weakness, that flicker of human reluctance, a thought surfaced unbidden:

I am the Hokage… but even I… cannot sever the bond of friendship so easily.