The center of the battlefield...
Souta Kazuki stood amidst the smoldering ruins of Konoha, his expression unreadable as he watched the dust settle. The chaos had ended as abruptly as it had begun. Orochimaru, along with his subordinates, dismissed their summons and vanished into wisps of smoke, retreating to the shadows where they thrived. Meanwhile, the young shinobi exhaled slowly, his mind already shifting to the events yet to unfold.
Without another word, he turned and left, walking as though none of this had anything to do with him. To the untrained eye, he was just another civilian making his way home after a long day. But those who knew him—those who had witnessed his actions—understood that he was anything but ordinary.
Elsewhere, the Kazuki Clan was in motion. Haruto Kazuki and Raiga Kazuki, leading a group of their clan's shinobi, moved swiftly through the streets, assisting in the rescue efforts. Unlike many of Konoha's major clans, who hesitated to act, the Kazuki Clan had no reservations about stepping in. Their actions spoke volumes about their commitment to the village, even if their allegiance to its leadership remained uncertain.
The aftermath of the battle revealed an unsettling truth: the greatest casualties were not among the shinobi ranks but rather among Konoha's civilians. Many had fallen—not at the hands of Orochimaru, but to the sheer, overwhelming wrath of Uzumaki Kushina. The once-beloved red-haired kunoichi had unleashed a fury that no one had anticipated, staining her hands with the blood of those she had once sworn to protect.
From a distance, Uzumaki Naruto watched everything in silence. His blue eyes, usually filled with boundless energy, now carried a weight that was almost unbearable. He had longed for this moment—for a chance to stand alongside his parents, for a chance to fight with them rather than for their memory. But reality had a cruel way of twisting dreams into nightmares. His mother, the woman he had idolized, had become a force of destruction. The village that had shunned him now lay broken before him.
Uchiha Sasuke, standing beside him, felt nothing. Unlike Naruto, his heart held no attachment to Konoha. The only people he cared for were the ones who had already perished. He had no interest in saving a village that had betrayed his clan. If anything, the sight of its destruction brought him a grim sense of satisfaction.
As the dust settled, two figures emerged from the depths of their hiding places. Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado—Konoha's aging elders—moved with unsettling efficiency, barking orders and directing the remaining forces. Their presence signaled that the village's true power structure remained intact, even with the Hokage's death.
Kakashi, ever the silent observer, led the ANBU in retrieving the Third Hokage's body. But there was something strange about this moment. There were no Root operatives in sight. Not a single one had participated in the battle. It was almost as if... they had chosen to sit this one out.
In a darkened underground chamber, Danzo Shimura sat in contemplation, his single eye clouded with thought. His hands clenched into fists, then loosened, clenched again, then loosened. Finally, he exhaled slowly, a smirk forming on his lips.
"Sarutobi… you were always too sentimental."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"But now… now Konoha will have the leader it truly deserves."
At that moment, in another part of the village, Souta Kazuki sat cross-legged in his private training space. He closed his eyes, focusing his chakra as he connected once more to the psychic space. There, in that endless void between life and death, powerful figures had gathered.
Senju Butsuma.Uchiha Tajima.Uchiha Izuna.Namikaze Minato.Uzumaki Kushina.Uchiha Fugaku.Uchiha Mikoto.Orochimaru.
All of them watched in anticipation, their expressions unreadable. Even Hyuga Tennin, who had little personal stake in Konoha's future, found himself observing closely.
Souta smirked. "System."
[ I am here. ]
"Give me a golden psychic summon."
[ Processing... ]
A golden summoning circle flared to life before him, its intricate seals pulsing with a blinding radiance. The moment was tense, electric. Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with something between excitement and apprehension. Minato's fists clenched. Even Fugaku, ever composed, leaned forward slightly.
Then—
BANG!
A figure emerged, wreathed in golden fire. The flames dissipated, revealing a younger, stronger version of the man they had all known.
Sarutobi Hiruzen.
The room fell into stunned silence. Orochimaru was the first to speak, his voice barely a whisper.
"Young sensei…"
Tobirama muttered under his breath, his expression unreadable. "Monkey…"
The newly reborn Sarutobi blinked, dazed. His last memory was of Orochimaru plunging a blade into his chest. And yet—his body was strong. His chakra was full.
He wasn't dead.
He was… young again.
His gaze swept the room. His former students. His mentors. His allies. His enemies.
And then, his eyes locked onto Souta Kazuki.
"What… is the meaning of this?"