Throne Of The Uchiha

Secret Chamber

The funeral had not yet begun, but many members of the Uchiha clan were already quietly weeping. Konoha was a mighty shinobi village, but that strength existed only in aggregate. Every fallen ninja was a unique soul—a friend, a comrade, a family member.

In the long years of endless war, the dead were often reduced to statistics in mission reports. Only those who stood beside the fallen could truly comprehend the cruelty behind the numbers.

Uchiha Fugaku's mood was somber. On the cold surface of the memorial stone, he saw the name of Uchiha Ueno—once a comrade he'd spoken with at length—now just another carved line among hundreds. A life reduced to kanji on stone.

From the corner of his eye, Fugaku glimpsed his father, Uchiha Tenjo. His expression was stoic, yet sorrow leaked through the silence in his gaze as he stared at Ueno's name. Grief was something even the proud Uchiha could not hide forever.

The funeral concluded smoothly as the clan members placed small white chrysanthemums by the altar. Uchiha Tenjo, burdened by duties as captain of the Konoha Military Police Force, soon departed.

Fugaku was just turning to leave when he heard a voice—hoarse and low, unmistakable.

"Fugaku-kun."

He turned around. "Orochimaru-senpai."

The man who approached him had snake-like eyes and a pale, expressionless face. At this point in time, Orochimaru had not yet begun his descent into forbidden experimentation. His darkness was latent, veiled by his military merit and calm demeanor.

Though Orochimaru was only five or six years Fugaku's senior, he was already widely known. As a personal disciple of the Third Hokage, he had fought on several fronts of the Second Great Ninja War and had become a decorated jōnin of Konoha.

"I read a recent battle report from the Land of Rain," Orochimaru said, his tone flat but observant. "It mentioned you by name. A textbook ambush maneuver, a well-executed retreat, and high mission success under duress. Konoha should be proud of you… as should the Uchiha clan."

Fugaku answered humbly, "You flatter me, Orochimaru-senpai. I was fortunate to have excellent teammates. Any jōnin in my place would have done the same."

Orochimaru's lips curled ever so slightly. "Too modest. I reviewed your team composition. Nothing extraordinary on paper—no Hyūga, no Aburame, no medical-nin. Yet your squad outperformed several others. It speaks volumes."

He paused, then added, "The fighting in Amegakure is far from over. I expect to be deployed soon. If that happens... I hope you won't turn down an invitation to serve under my command."

Fugaku's eyes narrowed slightly in thought. This wasn't just casual conversation—it was a recruitment.

With the Sannin rising in prestige, leadership in the war was consolidating around the next generation. The ninja assigned under each Sannin would bolster their reputations and, by extension, their political capital within Konoha. Fugaku, both a capable warrior and heir to the Uchiha, was a prime candidate.

From his perspective, Orochimaru was the most viable ally.

Jiraiya's path was unpredictable—likely wandering the world in pursuit of some "Child of Prophecy" as foretold by the Great Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku. He had little interest in power or politics.

Tsunade was immersed in her efforts to modernize and formalize medical ninjutsu. Her emotional scars from the First War and Dan's death made her view war and the Uchiha clan with silent suspicion. The Senju and Uchiha's historical rivalry still lingered.

As for Hatake Sakumo—the "White Fang"—his strength was undeniable, but his lack of ties to the Senju, Sarutobi, or Uchiha clans meant he lacked political shielding. Fugaku saw it clearly: Konoha's elite would never let someone like Sakumo rise too high. His later disgrace and suicide would prove this suspicion right.

Even the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, compromised when needed. Though he spoke often of the Will of Fire, he still bowed to pressure from elders like Danzō and Homura when it came to power distribution.

"I would be honored to serve under you, Orochimaru-senpai," Fugaku finally said, bowing slightly. "I hope to benefit from your experience and learn much from your leadership."

Orochimaru nodded, clearly satisfied. The two spoke briefly about the Rain Country's shifting terrain and the infiltration patterns of Hanzo's forces before parting ways.

Later, Fugaku returned home and knelt by his bed. From a hidden compartment in the floor, he retrieved a key—one that opened the hidden study chamber his father used to preserve the clan's secrets.

The secret chamber was unchanged—old wooden shelves, paper scrolls sealed in wax, and the faint smell of smoke and ink. Here lay the weight of centuries.

The Uchiha clan traced its lineage back to Indra Ōtsutsuki, the elder son of the Sage of Six Paths. Over the generations, knowledge had been lost to war, exile, or stolen—perhaps even spirited away by Uchiha Madara himself. What remained was still immense but fragmented.

Fugaku scanned the shelves. Scrolls on general shinobi arts and katon techniques were plentiful—Great Fireball Jutsu (Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu), Phoenix Sage Fire, Fire Dragon Flame Bullet, and the formidable Great Fire Annihilation (Katon: Gōka Mekkyaku) used by Madara himself during the Fourth Great War.

But information on the Mangekyō Sharingan was scant—only three scrolls referenced it directly.

He opened one labeled "Transcription Seal Technique" (Izanagi no Fuin). The scroll described a fūinjutsu exclusive to Mangekyō users: the ability to embed their dōjutsu's power into another's eye or their own, activating under specific triggers.

He immediately recalled how Itachi Uchiha sealed Amaterasu within Sasuke's eye to attack Obito, and how later, the Kotoamatsukami implanted in Shisui's eye helped Itachi break free from the Edo Tensei.

Fugaku's Sharingan had reached the three-tomoe stage, but without the emotional trauma required, the Mangekyō remained beyond reach. The transcription seal, though fascinating, was useless to him for now.

Returning the scroll, Fugaku walked toward the ninjutsu shelf. There lay the essence of Uchiha battle doctrine: fire-release dominance supported by genjutsu precision and taijutsu efficiency. It was a legacy. Civilian shinobi might treasure a single B-rank scroll; Uchiha children could study dozens.

He picked up the scroll labeled "Great Fire Annihilation"—Madara's signature. A massive wave of flame capable of reshaping battlefields. In the hands of someone with enough chakra, it was near-unblockable.

Fugaku held the scroll, silent.

This was more than power. It was inheritance.

It was responsibility.

And one day, it might be the only thing between the Uchiha and extinction.