A few days later ...
Inside the vast psychic space, a place where thoughts and ideas coalesced into reality, Orochimaru's voice echoed with a rare urgency."Souta Kazuki! Can you talk to me?!"
Souta, who had been deep in thought, processing the various pieces of information from his training and research, was momentarily startled. Orochimaru rarely contacted him unless something significant had transpired. The scientist within the legendary Sannin had been engrossed in experiments, diving into the knowledge Souta had provided him, knowledge foreign to the shinobi world. Souta had shared ideas about advanced weaponry—guns, artillery, and even nuclear warheads—as well as technology like computers, satellites, and the internet. Orochimaru, fascinated by these alien concepts, had thrown himself into relentless experimentation.
But now, something was different.
"Uncle Snake, what's wrong? Did you come up with something new?" Souta asked, his curiosity piqued.
Orochimaru shook his head, his eerie golden eyes gleaming with something far deeper than mere scientific intrigue.
"No… Research is a slow process, and the nature of this space makes experimentation here quite different from reality. The satellite, the communication networks, the technology you spoke of—they require adjustments tailored to this world. The chakra-infused environment alters the parameters of everything."
Souta nodded, understanding the limitations. He had already suspected that the integration of modern technology into a chakra-driven society wouldn't be straightforward.
"Then what is it, Uncle Snake?"
A smirk crept across Orochimaru's face, his long tongue flicking out to moisten his lips.
"I have an idea."
Souta raised an eyebrow. That phrase—spoken by Orochimaru—was never something to be taken lightly.
"Go on," Souta urged, intrigued.
Orochimaru leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Konoha Collapse Plan."
For a moment, the words hung in the air, sinking into Souta's mind.
"I know your ambition," Orochimaru continued, his tone almost seductive. "I know your dream of reshaping this world. But before any of that can happen, there is an obstacle in your way—Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Third Hokage. If Konoha is to change, if it is to become something greater, then the old must make way for the new."
Souta crossed his arms, his expression unreadable.
"And you want to be the one to remove him?"
Orochimaru chuckled darkly.
"It is only fitting. He is my teacher, after all. The one who nurtured me, yet failed me. But I do not seek his disgrace. No… I will give him a noble exit, one worthy of the title of Hokage. He will die as a hero, not as an old man burdened by the weight of his failures."
Souta considered the implications. This plan—this deviation from what he knew of the original timeline—was intriguing. If Orochimaru led this coup, then it would be his battle, not Souta's.
"I assume you've already gathered allies?" Souta asked.
Orochimaru's grin widened.
"Indeed. The Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, and his wife, Uzumaki Kushina. Uchiha Fugaku and Uchiha Mikoto. They all seek justice, retribution… and change. Their hatred for the Third Hokage is not something to be dismissed lightly."
Souta exhaled sharply.
"That's quite the roster. The Fourth Hokage himself is willing to move against Konoha?"
Orochimaru nodded.
"Minato has realized the extent of Konoha's sins. He knows now what was done to his son, to Naruto. He no longer sees himself as Hokage, only as a father seeking retribution. And Kushina... hahahahahaha, let's just say her rage is unquenchable."
Souta couldn't help but smirk. This was chaos. A carefully orchestrated, inevitable collapse of Konoha's old guard. And yet, it wasn't destruction for the sake of destruction—it was change.
With a flicker of chakra, the space around him pulsed. And in that instant, the pieces were set into motion.
The Collapse of Konoha had begun.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the edge of a quiet river, Senju Hashirama sat alone, his usually bright and cheerful face clouded with an unusual melancholy. Every few moments, he would pick up a small stone from the riverbank and flick it into the water, watching as ripples spread outward, distorting his own reflection. The sound of the stones splashing into the river was the only noise that accompanied his thoughts, which were swirling with memories of the past.
He thought back to the days of his childhood, back when he had first met Madara by a similar river. Neither of them had known each other's last name at the time, just two boys talking about dreams of a world without war. It had been so simple then, so innocent.
But reality had been far crueler. When their families learned of their friendship, they had been torn apart, forced onto opposing sides in a war that had already claimed too many lives. Their fathers, their brothers, their clans—everyone had demanded that they fight, and eventually, they had no choice but to face each other as the leaders of their respective clans. Yet, despite everything, the seeds of their dream had remained buried deep within them.
And when the opportunity had finally come, when they had stood at the peak of their power, they had made a choice—the choice to end the endless bloodshed. Together, they had united the strongest clans, bringing forth the village they had always envisioned. Konoha.
But now…
Hashirama picked up another stone and threw it harder than before, watching as it skipped across the surface before sinking into the depths.
"Madara… was I wrong?"
From behind him, a familiar presence stood in silence. Uchiha Madara had been watching him for a while now, his sharp gaze unreadable.
"Perhaps," Madara finally said, stepping forward. "Perhaps we both were."
Hashirama blinked in surprise. Madara was never the type to admit mistakes so easily. For him to say this now…
"Madara," Hashirama muttered. "Do you really think we made the wrong choice?"
Madara sat down beside him, picking up a pebble and tossing it into the river. The two of them sat in silence for a long moment, watching the ripples spread.
"You value Konoha above all else," Madara said eventually. "Because it is not just your dream—it was my dream as well."
Hashirama felt a sharp pang in his chest at those words.
"Do you still remember why we built Konoha?" Madara continued, his voice carrying an edge of bitterness. "Do you still remember what the Konoha of our dreams was supposed to be? Does the village today still reflect that dream?"
Hashirama stiffened. He didn't have an answer. Because deep down, he knew the truth.
Konoha was supposed to be a sanctuary. A place where children didn't have to grow up with swords in their hands, where families didn't have to live in fear of losing each other to the next battle. That was the village they had envisioned.
But the Konoha that stood today…
The Konoha that allowed corruption to fester. The Konoha that turned its strongest warriors into tools. The Konoha that had allowed Sarutobi Hiruzen, once an innocent boy full of potential, to become something else entirely.
"Madara…" Hashirama murmured. "I never wanted this. I never wanted war."
Madara scoffed. "Do you think I did?" He shot Hashirama a pointed look. "You idiot. You really think I enjoy war?"
"Hahahahahaha!" Hashirama burst into laughter, wiping at his eyes. "You just called me an idiot again! Do you have to do that every time we talk?"
"Of course," Madara smirked. "Because you are an idiot."
Hashirama pouted dramatically, rubbing the top of his head. "If you keep calling me stupid, maybe I'll actually become stupid!"
"You're already there."
"Hey!"
The two of them fell into an easy silence, the heavy atmosphere lifting just slightly.
Then, Hashirama turned serious again. "Madara, if we had another chance, do you think we could have done things differently?"
Madara exhaled, his crimson eyes reflecting the river's surface.
"There is always another way," he admitted. "And this time, we will see it through."
Hashirama turned to face him fully, curiosity lighting up his features. "Wait, wait, wait—are you telling me that you actually have faith in Souta?"
Madara smirked again, this time with something unreadable in his expression.
"Hashirama, you wouldn't have taken that brat as your student if you didn't believe in him, would you?"
Hashirama blinked, then rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, that's… um… I mean, I guess I saw something in him?"
Madara chuckled. "See? Even you have to admit that much."
Hashirama grinned, then suddenly lunged at Madara, throwing his arms around him in an exaggerated hug.
"Oh, Madaraaaa! You actually praised me just now! Say it again! Just say 'Hashirama is the smartest'—"
"Get off me, you idiot!" Madara shoved him away.
"But you just said I was smart—!"
"I take it back!"
"Hahahahahaha!"
Madara glared at Hashirama, then sighed, rubbing his temples. "Listen. There's something I need to tell you."
At once, Hashirama straightened, his previous goofiness vanishing.