UCHIHA: THE ATTACK ON KONOHA

Uchiha Mei noticed the eerie silence in Uchiha Yang's direction, a foreboding feeling tightening his chest. His grip on his blade unconsciously strengthened. His opponent, sensing the shift in pressure, assumed reinforcements were imminent and recklessly committed to a mutual-destruction strategy, exchanging injuries for an opening.

However, as moments passed, the other battlefield's sounds gradually faded as well. No reinforcements came. Anxiety gnawed at both fighters—Mei was desperate to reach his disciples, while his opponent couldn't understand why support hadn't arrived. Could Yang have already moved to assist the others? After all, the other side was outnumbered and couldn't have held out much longer.

At that moment, Mei smirked. "Your ally is dead." His Sharingan gleamed dangerously. "My disciple already went to support the others. The three of them together… you know what that means, don't you? Haven't you been chasing the ones who wiped out your teams?" His voice turned mocking. "Funny. I haven't even lifted a finger yet."

The Root ninja's focus wavered for an instant. That was all Mei needed. With a single stroke, his blade severed the enemy's arm. Yet, even crippled and bleeding, the operative refused to surrender, struggling fiercely to buy time.

But time is a fleeting thing—no one can grasp it forever.

Mei's Sharingan flickered, predicting the next move before it happened. "Mikazuki no Mai." (Dance of the Three Suns and Moon). He struck once, slicing through the ninja's right hand, then stepped behind him in a seamless blur—two more cuts, clean and final.

. . . . . . . .

Meanwhile, Uchiha Retsu and Uchiha Yan had adapted. Their combat rhythm sharpened as they alternated between Shurikenjutsu techniques and Sharingan-infused Genjutsu, creating brief moments of disorientation. Though their opponent was momentarily hindered, his sheer strength and endurance remained overwhelming. Despite their best efforts, the two Uchiha were still forced into a defensive retreat, struggling to support each other without leaving an opening.

They couldn't split up—doing so would allow the enemy to eliminate one of them before regrouping. Instead, they staggered their positions, grabbing each other's wrists in moments of imbalance and countering Suiton jutsu with synchronized Katon techniques.

"If we keep this up, we'll run out of chakra first," Retsu whispered, panting. "He's got far more reserves than us."

"It's not just quantity—his control is precise," Yan muttered, dodging a slicing water projectile. His brow furrowed. "Yang's been silent this whole time. I don't like it. He's alone."

"Tch, yeah… but we don't have the luxury to worry about him now," Retsu gritted his teeth. "They say Uchihas are crazy… but the real lunatic's over there. How is he not tired yet?"

Their enemy smirked. "Done whispering? Time to send you to the afterlife." The Jonin prepared his final attack.

"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu."

"Suiton: Daibakufu no Jutsu!" (Water Release: Great Waterfall Technique).

"Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu!" (Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet).

"Raiton: Tsuchiwalk." (Lightning Release: Ground Current).

A roaring cascade of water surged forward, forcing the Uchiha duo to respond with a Katon counter, though the sheer volume of water weakened their flames. The Water Dragon followed immediately, tearing through the mist, while the Waterfall slammed into them with crushing force.

Soaked and momentarily stunned, they barely had time to react before electricity coursed through the ground.

The Root ninja dismissed his clone and stepped forward, his breaths heavy. The technique had taken a toll, but his mission remained unchanged—eliminate the targets.

Suddenly—

"Doton: Shinju Zanshu no Jutsu!" (Earth Release: Double Suicide Decapitation).

The Jonin's body collapsed into mud—Doton: Tsuchi Bunshin (Earth Clone).

Before he could react, lightning crackled behind him.

"Raiton: Rai Shunshin!" (Lightning Release: Instantaneous Flash).

A flash of steel.

"Uchiha-ryū Kenjutsu: Senkō Setsudan." (Uchiha-Style Swordplay: Flash Severance).

Uchiha Mei appeared behind him, blade coated in blood. The Root ninja staggered, clutching his chest, his breaths ragged. He tried to weave another jutsu—

"Katon: Karyūdan!" (Fire Release: Fire Dragon Bullet).

"Suiton—"

Before he could complete the hand seals, a cold whisper interrupted him.

"Shui ni ma bi— (Water my ass—)

"Genjutsu: Narakumi no Jutsu." (Illusion: Demonic Illusion – Hell Viewing Technique).

His vision twisted into horror. His moment of hesitation sealed his fate. The Fire Dragon Bullet engulfed him.

From the smoke, Uchiha Yang emerged, drenched in blood but grinning through bared teeth. "Man, I was so tired, I just closed my eyes for a sec."

. . . . . . . .

Uchiha Mei leapt over the scattered traps, reaching a shallow crater where his three disciples lay—two unconscious, the third barely clinging to wakefulness. Guilt settled in his chest.

He coughed, masking his concern. "I've already signaled the clan. I went to the valley and left a message for any nearby Uchiha. If a clansman has fallen, others will come to investigate. If we get there first, we'll be safe."

The realization settled over them. Root would send reinforcements soon. In their current state, survival was uncertain.

Yang, despite his injuries, forced himself to think. "Sensei… should we retreat into the valley instead? We'll be surrounded by allies and can get medical attention immediately. If Root follows us here, we'll be wiped out in minutes."

Mei's voice was firm. "I've already prepared an escape. Just follow my lead."

A wooden cart waited outside the trap-laden path, carrying four corpses. An old man pushed it forward, guiding them toward a secluded compound called Mingxinyuan. He unloaded the bodies before speaking.

"Alright. Move the wounded inside. I'll fetch the doctor. Until then, do not leave this house."

Uchiha Yang scanned the dimly lit interior. His stomach dropped. This is a morgue. His eyes landed on a faded couplet:

"The living are greedy; the dead are enlightened."

After placing the unconscious in the makeshift medical room, Yang leaned against the wall, exhaustion consuming him. A sharp pain erupted in his skull. His vision blurred, blood trickling from his nose. As he reached up to wipe it, his world tilted, and darkness swallowed him.

. . . . . . .

The doctor assessed them clinically. "The boy inside needs IV fluids for internal injuries. Minor concussion—should recover fine. The one outside? Internal bleeding, two broken ribs, re-fractured right arm. He'll need more than just rest."

His eyes darkened. "The worst case? That one." He gestured toward Yang. *"Severe concussion, accompanied by intracranial hemorrhage—surgery is necessary. His eardrum is ruptured, and I can't guarantee there won't be lasting effects even after recovery. Chakra exhaustion has pushed his body to its limit, leading to minor internal injuries as well. We won't know the full extent of the damage until after the procedure."

The doctor, an older man in a white coat, glanced warily at Uchiha Mei. "Now, I've done as you asked. Can I release my daughter? I brought her here with me. She's my assistant—I can't perform the surgery without her help. Put away the kunai; we're all reasonable people, aren't we?"

Mei's Sharingan spun ominously, his presence suffocating. Without hesitation, he formed a hand seal.

"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu." (Shadow Clone Technique).

A perfect duplicate appeared beside him. His tone was ice-cold. "Your assistant is me now. If anything happens to my students, your whole family dies. I won't repeat myself."

The doctor swallowed hard, nodding stiffly before preparing for surgery.

. . . . . . . .

Some time later, Uchiha En stirred, his body heavy with exhaustion. The IV drip had replenished some of his strength, but pain still wracked his limbs. Taking stock of the situation, he saw Yang's unconscious form on the bed. Without a word, he rose, silently stepping away to make room for his friend. Settling into a recliner outside the door, he shut his eyes, unwilling to waste energy on unnecessary conversation.

Not long after, Uchiha Retsu awoke to find himself once again heavily injured. Frustration boiled in his chest, but before he could curse his situation, his gaze landed on Yang. The other boy hadn't moved.

His irritation faded into quiet concern.

Suppressing a groan, Retsu bent down, adjusting the IV bottle in his hand. Moving carefully, he climbed off the bed, retrieved a stool, and stepped onto it. With practiced ease, he maneuvered onto a long table nearby, placing the IV bottle on a wall-mounted lantern to keep it elevated.

Satisfied with his makeshift setup, he lay down, closed his eyes, and soon drifted into an uneasy sleep.

. . . . . . . .

A voice called out, stirring him from his rest.

Blinking blearily, Retsu turned his head and found himself looking at a man clad in black, his face obscured by a porcelain ANBU mask. The shinobi's voice was calm but firm.

"Little brother, you should return to the bed. You're in no condition to be lying there."

Retsu waved him off lazily. "Nah, let Yang take the bed."

A pause.

"...That's an operating table."