The next day.
All of Konoha was in an uproar.
The heads of every major ninja clan now sat on the execution platform, forming a silent, tense circle. None spoke, none dared.
They had gathered, not as leaders, but as survivors...forced witnesses to what was about to unfold.
Where their predecessors had fallen, slaughtered in Danzo's brutal seizure of power...new faces had stepped up, hastily named to fill a void left by massacre.
The Nara clan, the Akimichi clan, the Aburame, the Inuzuka, the Hyūga—every household in Konoha bore fresh scars.
The atmosphere was suffocating, heavy with fear and repressed anger. The air itself seemed to weigh on every shoulder.
Most clan heads, in their hearts, still honored Hiruzen Sarutobi as Hokage. But Danzo's monstrous power, and the merciless efficiency of Root, left no room for open resistance.
Everyone who had dared defiance was dead.
Especially the Sarutobi clan—wiped out, from elders to infants.
Their line, their legacy, erased in a night of blood and retribution.
Hiruzen's eldest son had been killed even more brutally than the rest.
Asuma Sarutobi...once the pride and shame of his father—remained missing, his fate a mystery.
In just forty-eight hours, Konoha had become a river of blood.
The Will of Fire, once a creed of hope, now felt like a funeral prayer whispered to a city in mourning.
Uzumaki Household —
Konoha's air was heavy with dread, but the Uzumaki home was filled with a different tension altogether.
Kushina stood in the kitchen, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes fixed on the distant smoke drifting above the rooftops.
She had not moved to join the crowds, hadn't even opened the door that morning. Instead, she kept glancing at the clock, the window, and every few minutes—at her son.
Naruto paced back and forth in the living room, his small fists balled up, face scrunched with stubborn frustration.
He'd begged, pleaded, and argued—he wanted to see the Hokage, wanted to know what was happening, wanted to shout that it wasn't fair.
Why wasn't the whole village fighting back?
"Kaa‑chan, why can't we go?" Naruto demanded for the fifth time that hour, eyes blazing. "He's the Hokage! They can't just kill him like this—he's supposed to be the strongest! If it was me, I'd save him, I swear!"
Kushina didn't answer right away. She just set down her kitchen knife a little harder than necessary, her grip trembling with anger and worry she refused to show. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, but steady:
"Naruto, sometimes… sometimes there's nothing you can do."
"But—!"
She rounded on him, her expression softer now, but fierce. "I know you want to help. I know you love this village. But right now, you're my son and you're staying here. No arguments. Not today."
Naruto scowled, on the verge of another protest, but when he saw the sadness behind his mother's eyes, he stopped. He kicked at the carpet, shoulders hunched.
"It's not right… It's just not right, Kaa‑chan. I want to be Hokage someday. I'd never let this happen."
Kushina knelt down and pulled him into a hug, her arms warm and protective.
"I know, Naruto. I know. But sometimes… even the strongest Hokage can't save everyone. That's why you have to grow up strong, and smart, and good. So that when your time comes, you can protect the people you love and this village, too."
He buried his face in her shoulder, refusing to cry.
But the tears still came... hot, and impossible to hold back. No matter how stubborn he tried to be, in the end, Naruto was still just a child.
Kushina held him tighter, running a hand through his messy hair. She kept her expression calm, but inside, her mind raced... every protective instinct awakened.
If that bastard Danzo so much as thinks of making a move on us, she thought, eyes narrowing, he's going to learn exactly why the Uzumaki clan was feared across the continent. I won't let anyone touch my son...not now, not ever.
But even beneath that anger, there was a small, quiet certainty she clung to...
That masked idiot…
For all his mystery and madness, she knew—deep down...he would never stand by and let anything happen to her. Not her, and not Naruto.
Kushina pressed her cheek against her son's hair, eyes never leaving the window.
Let the world come if it wants. I'll face it head-on. But as long as I draw breath, no one's taking my family from me.
--
"Is the execution about to begin?"
Yamanaka Inoichi, the lone surviving head of the Ino–Shika–Cho alliance stood near the front of the crowd, glancing up at the platform.
He looked nervous, rubbing his thumb against the edge of his sleeve, but kept his face steady for the others around him.
A few other clan heads and their supporters lingered nearby, trying to act casual, though everyone's eyes kept drifting back to the center stage.
Most of the crowd—shinobi, villagers, even a handful of merchants—stood in tense silence.
Even the foreign guests and a few unmistakable spies were mixed in, quietly watching Konoha's next move. There was a strange energy in the air, like everyone was waiting for a storm that might pass or break.
"If Lord Third… really goes down like this…" one old Nara retainer muttered quietly, "guess we'll have no choice but to go along with Danzo, huh?"
Inoichi nodded, eyes still on the platform. "Yeah. But… if anything unexpected happens—just be ready to move."
A little farther off, Samui and her trio of Kumogakure chūnin leaned on a fence, blending in with the other foreign observers.
The chūnin whispered among themselves, but Samui just watched with that calm, unreadable look she was famous for.
All across the square, people shifted on their feet, craning their necks or standing on tiptoe.
Some looked worried. Some looked angry. A few even looked a little excited...like they couldn't quite believe something this huge was actually happening in Konoha.
--
Among the crowd, a young boy stood out—not for his height or his clothes, but for the look in his eyes.
Shikamaru Nara watched the execution platform with a seriousness that seemed too heavy for someone his age. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, but his face was set with a quiet maturity, his usual lazy expression nowhere to be seen.
He kept his hands jammed in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched. If anyone had asked, he'd say he only came because he had to.
But the truth was, he needed to see Danzo with his own eyes—the man who'd killed his father.
Nearby, there was an empty space where Chōji usually stood. Shikamaru glanced that way, then looked down, his mouth tightening.
Chōji hadn't come... he'd locked himself in his room and refused to answer the door. Shikamaru couldn't blame him.
A soft breeze passed over the crowd. Shikamaru shifted his weight, still staring up at the stage.
What a drag, he thought, but there was no humor in it this time.
--
"The execution may begin!"
At the top of the platform, Shimura Danzo's voice rang out, cold and indifferent. This moment was everything he had schemed for, yet his face showed no satisfaction—just the same empty hunger he always wore.
The crowd fell silent, every pair of eyes locked on the stage.
Hiashi Hyuga stepped forward, expression unreadable, and dragged the battered Third Hokage into the center of the platform.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, robes torn and body bruised, knelt with effort but kept his head high. His spirit, at least, was still unbroken.
"Don't look so grim, Hiashi. I can guess how you feel," Hiruzen said softly, sorrow in his eyes. "There's no need to feel bad for an old man like me."
He paused, voice thickening just a little. "I'm sorry for what happened to your daughter Hinata, too. I couldn't protect her… just like I couldn't protect so many others. So many Konoha shinobi died because I hesitated. Because I failed."
He didn't look away. He understood why Hiashi was here.
Why so many clan heads had bent the knee to Danzo.
They all had families—people to protect.
Hiashi bowed his head, shame clear on his face.
"My clan comes first," he said quietly. "I can't gamble with the Hyuga's future. I'm sorry, Lord Third."
Hiruzen exhaled slowly, giving a bitter, understanding smile.
"I don't blame you. We all have someone to protect."
But even as he said it, the pain of betrayal lingered in his chest. Understanding didn't make it hurt any less.
Danzo's voice sliced through the heavy silence, flat and impatient:
"Hiashi! Enough sentiment. Execute your former Hokage—show me your resolve."
Hiashi's grip tightened, but before he could move, a sudden thunderous roar shattered the tension:
"How could I let you get your wish so easily, Danzo!!!"
A massive shadow dropped from above.
With a crash that shook the square, the Adamantine Staff of Enma, the Monkey King, slammed into the platform, splintering wood and sending a shockwave through the crowd.
Shinobi and civilians stumbled, shielding their faces from the flying debris.
Hiashi froze in disbelief, eyes wide.
"That chakra—Lord Third's summon? No… Enma's never been this overwhelming before!"
"Who the hell is that?! Stop him now, or he'll bring down the whole platform!"
Nervous shinobi scrambled, panic breaking out among those who'd never seen Enma's full power. More than a few glanced at Danzo, terrified of what might happen if they failed.
"… Enma…"
Hiruzen's battered voice trembled with awe and relief.
He stared at the enormous staff, breath catching as the meaning sank in. A single tear slipped down his weathered cheek.
Enma—his old friend, his partner for life...had risked everything, channeling wild amounts of natural energy just to save him.
Power like that would tear any ordinary summon apart. But Enma had come anyway.
--
Far away, hidden comfortably in Kamui space…
Obito was watching the execution like it was the season finale of his favorite anime.
He leaned forward, Sharingan glowing, lips curling into a slow grin.
"Oh? Oh? This wasn't in the plan at all…"
His smirk widened.
"…and yet it's so damn perfect."
The moment Enma crashed down like a shonen protagonist entering a boss fight, Obito straight‑up froze... then cracked up like a man who just got handed front‑row tickets to his own chaos.
"This is peak anime!" he said, excitement bubbling out. "A dead‑end execution, sudden comeback of a legendary ally… Hah! Classic Ichigo Kurosaki timing. Subarashii."
Beside him, "Tobi" tilted his head sideways.
"Wowww! Look, look, look! The old monkey came back with upgraded powers!" Tobi clapped like a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons. "Does he get a transformation scene too? Maybe sparkles? Maybe a flashback??"
White Zetsu munched popcorn from a bucket nearly bigger than his torso.
"Honestly, this is better than anything the Leaf has produced in years. If they sold tickets, I'd be broke."
Obito grabbed a Pepsi, took a long sip, and exhaled dramatically.
"I wanted drama…" he said.
"But THIS? This is cinema."
He propped his elbow on his knee, chin resting on his fist, Sharingan fixed on the chaos unfolding on the execution stage.
"Alright, old monkey… show me what you've got."
Tobi made a high‑pitched gasp.
"Ooh! Ooh! Captain, are you gonna jump in?! Are you gonna do your dramatic entrance too?! Maybe flip your hair back? Reveal your evil plan? Say something like 'This world… shall know pain!'"
Obito threw a popcorn kernel at him.
"Shut up and watch. I'm enjoying this."
Zetsu nodded, adjusting the snacks between them.
"You know… for a guy who's destroying Konoha, you really enjoy the 'hero comeback' moments."
Obito shrugged casually.
"What can I say? Even villains appreciate good storyboarding."
And the three of them... a war criminal, a manchild persona, and a literal plant, continued watching the chaos unfold…
Like they were binging Netflix together.
--
"Hmph. Just a filthy beast. Do you really think you can change anything?"
Danzo's face didn't so much as twitch as he formed his seals, voice calm and cold.
With a twist of his hands, the ground erupted. Roots and branches surged up—legendary Wood Style unleashed, the kind of power Konoha's history books said only the First Hokage could command.
But Enma was done playing.
The Adamantine Staff crashed down like a falling mountain.
BOOM!
The shockwave rattled rooftops for blocks. The ground buckled. For a moment, it felt like Konoha itself might split open.
Danzo's Wood Style shattered—splintered like matchsticks. The execution platform erupted into flying debris. Hiashi was sent sprawling, along with half a dozen stunned shinobi, as terrified civilians dove for cover.
"It's not over yet! Sealing Jutsu: Adamantine Prison!"
Enma's voice thundered through the chaos. In a flash, his staff multiplied, splitting into dozens of iron rods—falling, spinning, locking into the shape of cages that crashed down around every clan head, every council member—even Danzo himself.
The plaza was a field of cages. No one could escape.
"Got them!" Enma roared, chest heaving, the staff-cages quivering from the impact.
But it wasn't perfect. The power was wild, desperate, barely controlled—dozens of bystanders were caught in the chaos. Some were knocked down, others badly hurt.
Enma, overloaded with nature energy, didn't have the precision left to care. All that mattered was saving Hiruzen Sarutobi, his oldest friend.
"Hiruzen! I'm here! Hang on!"
The gigantic, grotesquely bulked-up Enma grinned through the pain, smashing the seals binding Hiruzen.
Hiruzen, battered and blinking, stared at the beast his friend had become. For a moment, all the regret hit him at once. Had he really let things get this bad?
"It's nothing, Hiruzen!" Enma rasped, tearing away the last of the chains. "Broken bones are nothing—Tsunade can fix you. But we have to get away now! We'll find Tsunade, Jiraiya—at least they never betrayed you, unlike that bastard Danzo—"
Danzo's voice rang out, flat as ever:
"A mere summon beast dares defy me? Fine. Hold your master—and die together."
He clapped his hands, and another tidal wave of Wood Style tore through the plaza.
"Wood Style: World-Devouring Burial!"
Enma barely flinched. His body was pierced, crushed, splintered by branches and roots but with one last, defiant roar, he hurled Hiruzen up and away, toward a familiar chakra signature he sensed on the rooftops above.
He trusted someone was waiting.
And then Enma fell, blood and dust swirling as the world crashed down around him.
As Hiruzen flew through the air, battered and barely conscious, it looked for a split second like he might crash straight into the rubble.
But in a flash, a massive toad tongue shot out from nowhere, catching him in midair—gentle, but strong enough to slow his fall. The crowd gasped as a red-and-white cloak fluttered down from the rooftops.
Jiraiya, the Toad Sage, landed with a dramatic thud, Hiruzen slung safely across his back.
"Yo, Sensei," Jiraiya said, grinning through the tension. "Sorry for the wait. Had to make a flashy entrance—can't let the next generation forget who the real legends are, y'know?"
Beside him, another figure landed in a swirl of green and gold. Tsunade, looking every bit the legendary Sannin, hit the ground hard enough to crack the stone beneath her sandals. She strode forward without hesitation, her eyes locked on Danzo.
Jiraiya gently set Hiruzen down, checking his pulse with practiced hands. "Hang in there, old man. The backup's here."
Tsunade dropped to her knees beside her former teacher, already working chakra into her hands. "You never make things easy, do you, Sensei?"
Hiruzen managed a faint, relieved smile. "Tsunade… Jiraiya… You two picked a hell of a time to come home."
[Author Note]📢
Hey everyone!
Just a quick update — I've started a new Naruto novel:
Naruto: I'm Atomic
It's a fresh project with cleaner writing and a steadier release pace.
If you enjoyed my previous stories, feel free to check it out!
Thanks for the support 🗣️
— Arthorain