A strange and oppressive aura seeped through the Fire Temple's main hall.

The towering Buddha statue, once a symbol of serenity and compassion, now stood as if alive—its stone face distorted by the reflection of Shinnosuke's violently fluctuating emotions.

The ancient Sage Art seals, carved into the walls and pillars by the monks years ago, began to stir faintly. Their dull glow flickered like embers in the dark, reacting to the turmoil within Shinnosuke's heart.

Those seals were remnants of a desperate act. Before their slaughter, the monks of the temple had bound the Buddha statue with natural energy, sealing something unspeakable inside it after Uchiha Gen's mysterious visit.

Now, Shinnosuke's inner struggle—the clash of fear, ambition, and doubt—had unknowingly awakened the defense mechanism of this formation.

Suddenly, his entire body froze. His limbs felt as though wrapped in chains of iron. His hands, against his will, pressed tightly together, then slowly rose toward his throat.

Shinnosuke's eyes widened in disbelief. His own hands were no longer his—they moved like the hands of a corpse, stiff and unyielding.

The invisible force tightened his grip around his neck.

Air vanished. A suffocating pressure spread from his throat to his chest, crushing his lungs. His vision blurred, dark spots swarming before his eyes. Sweat poured down his face like a storm, and veins bulged across his temples as his body convulsed violently.

The Buddha statue loomed over him, its once-compassionate features warped by shadow. Its eyes, carved in calm meditation, now seemed to glare with malevolent intent.

The air thickened with natural energy—yet it was no longer pure. It twisted and churned like stagnant water, pressing down on Shinnosuke with crushing force, threatening to obliterate his body and his will.

The seals etched into the floor pulsed one last time before beginning to fracture.

"No… I cannot die here!"

Through the haze of suffocation, fragments of his father's stern face flashed before him—Hiruzen, the Sarutobi name, the weight of clan and village.

I must live. For Father. For the Sarutobi. For myself!

With that desperate thought, the transplanted Mangekyō Sharingan in his right eye ignited.

A searing crimson light burst forth, its tomoe spinning wildly before twisting into the dreadful kaleidoscope pattern.

The eruption of chakra was violent, like a floodgate torn open. A torrent of power consumed Shinnosuke's body, colliding head-on with the suffocating natural energy binding him.

The clash of the Mangekyō's will and the ancient Sage Art seal unleashed a shockwave that rippled through the temple, shaking the very foundation of the hall.

The glowing seals shattered all at once, scattering into thousands of dim, dying motes that faded into the air like fireflies snuffed out. Googlᴇ search N(o)vᴇl(F)ire.nᴇt

For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then the Buddha statue groaned.

From beneath its base, withered roots tore through the stone floor. Twisted black trees clawed their way upward, writhing like serpents, wrapping themselves around the statue.

They grew at an unnatural pace, branches sprouting and spreading, coiling around the Buddha's serene figure until it was imprisoned in a cage of death.

Shinnosuke collapsed to his knees, coughing violently, his throat raw from the phantom grip. Each cough drew blood to his lips. And with every rasping breath, more roots burst from the floor beneath him, spreading outward like veins of corruption.

A sound followed—the faint drip of liquid.

From cracks in the statue's chest, thick crimson blood oozed. Not paint. Not illusion. Real blood, fresh and warm, sliding down the stone and soaking into the writhing roots.

The roots shuddered with life at the touch, greedily absorbing the blood.

And then Shinnosuke understood.

His face went pale, his pupils shrinking in horror.

These roots… these trees… were not born of ordinary soil. They had been nourished by the corpses of the Uchiha.

The cursed remains of the clan's massacre, devoured and twisted into something eternal, were now erupting in the heart of the temple.

The Buddha statue, meant to embody peace, now bled with their vengeance.

At that moment, the withered trees and the flowing blood of the Uchiha clan twisted together in a grotesque union.

The vines wrapped around the Buddha statue like skeletal hands, their bark cracking open as blood seeped into them. Slowly, the stone began to change—its golden hue fading into a sickly, crimson sheen.

What emerged was no longer the serene figure of the Enlightened One.

Instead, it became a grotesque, blood-soaked wooden effigy. Its features warped, its compassionate smile stretched into a grimace, its hands pressed together in mock prayer as blood pulsed faintly through its wooden veins.

The monstrous idol shrank, compacting until it was small enough to rest in the palm of Shinnosuke's trembling hand.

The instant it touched his skin, the Mangekyō Sharingan in his eye blazed with violent light, flooding the chamber with a crimson glow.

Shinnosuke gasped. His consciousness was wrenched from his body and plunged into a fathomless abyss.

The world around him vanished. In its place, the memories of Uchiha Fugaku surged forth like a broken dam.

He felt the man's sorrow, his stifled rage, his lonely burden as clan head. He saw Fugaku's moment of awakening—the agonizing scream that birthed his Mangekyō Sharingan, the unbearable weight of a fate he could not defy.

Again and again, Fugaku had peered into the future using his ability. Again and again, he had seen only blood, betrayal, and death.

And then, the visions shifted.

Not Fugaku's memories—something new. Something meant for Shinnosuke alone.

The air grew heavy. His heart pounded.

A scene unfolded before him:

His father, Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, lay sprawled in a pool of dark blood. His pipe was shattered at his side, his eyes wide open but empty, gazing into nothingness.

A suffocating silence clung to the corpse—loneliness, despair, abandonment.

Shinnosuke's throat tightened. "Father…"

Beside the body stood a familiar figure. White robes, stern features, and a face carved in cold stone—Senju Tobirama, the Second Hokage, reborn through the vile art of Edo Tensei.

His eyes were lifeless, his expression detached. He looked down at Hiruzen as though surveying an insect, utterly unmoved.

Shinnosuke's chest burned with grief and fury. His fists clenched so tightly blood dripped from his palms.

Who? Who could do this?!

He forced his gaze upward, desperate to see the true murderer.

And then he froze.

From the shadows, a pair of eyes slowly emerged.

Not the scarlet tomoe of the Sharingan. Not the kaleidoscope of the Mangekyō.

But two rings of power, glowing with an unearthly light—the Rinnegan.

Shinnosuke's entire body turned cold. His breath caught in his throat.

"Rinnegan…"

The word slipped out as a hoarse whisper, his body trembling violently. A chill surged through him, as though death itself had brushed its hand against his soul.

The eyes of the Sage of Six Paths—reborn in the present world.

And in this vision, those very eyes were the ones that struck his father down.

"No… no, it can't be…"

His voice cracked, torn between disbelief and terror.

The blood-red idol in his hand pulsed faintly, as though mocking his despair.

Shinnosuke dropped to his knees, his gaze locked on the grotesque statue. Fear and fury twisted in his heart, threatening to shatter his sanity.

But then, deep within that storm of dread, one thought burned through.

Father…

I will never allow this vision to come true. No matter what curse or prophecy binds me… I will not let you die.

His nails dug into his palm as he clutched the statue tighter, blood dripping between his fingers.

Even if I must defy fate itself… I will protect you.