Night falls.
The village quiets down.
He lays on the bed… eyes open.
Tick… Tick… Tick…
Still there.
A countdown he can't stop.
He opens the window slightly.
Cold wind rushes in.
He breathes.
"I need answers."
No more waiting.
No more confusion.
He sits cross-legged on the floor.
Closes his eyes.
Focuses.
The eye activates on instinct now.
A flicker. A hum. A faint glow beneath the skin.
A single phrase appears in his vision—"System Interface: Locked."
He concentrates harder.
The pain comes next.
Sharp. Like a needle inside his skull.
He clutches his head—teeth clenched.
Then…
A glitch.
Reality cracks.
The walls ripple.
Everything turns black and white.
He stands… but he's not in his room anymore.
No floor.
No ceiling.
Just an endless black space.
And in front of him… a window.
Suspended mid-air.
Pure black frame. Smoky glass.
His reflection stares back.
Then… it changes.
Not him.
Someone else.
Same face.
Same body.
But older.
Eyes cold. Hollow.
The left eye… no longer glowing. Cracked. Bleeding.
That version of him says nothing.
Just stares.
A warning in silence.
He reaches toward the glass—
Slam.
A hand grabs his wrist.
Tight.
Another figure appears behind him.
Robed. Faceless.
Voice deep, mechanical.
"You are not ready."
He tries to speak—nothing comes out.
The figure releases him.
A message appears over the black window:
"You're in Phase One. Do not attempt to skip."
"Observe. Survive. Awaken."
The window begins to shatter.
Bit by bit.
As it does—images leak out.
Scattered.
A battlefield.
Explosions.
Corpses.
Naruto screaming.
Sasuke standing over a pile of bodies.
Konoha in ruins.
Then… the sky cracking.
A giant eye watching the world.
Blood dripping from the clouds.
A hand reaches through.
His own.
The black version of him again.
Standing in the sky… watching it all burn.
Then—
Darkness.
He gasps—
Eyes shoot open.
Back in his room.
He's drenched in sweat.
Hands trembling.
Heartbeat spiking.
A faint whisper echoes…
"You saw too much."
He looks at the mirror.
Left eye is normal again.
No glow.
No sign.
But the fear remains.
Next morning.
He drags himself to the academy.
Naruto's there.
Bright.
Loud.
Alive.
The others laugh, train, talk.
Everything looks normal.
Too normal.
He sits near the window.
Watches the clouds.
Iruka walks in.
"Alright, we're switching up the teams today. Sparring drills."
Names are called.
Pair after pair.
Then—
"Sasuke. Him."
The class quiets down.
He looks up.
Sasuke already walking to the field.
Expression blank.
But focused.
He follows.
They stand facing each other.
Iruka nods.
"Start."
No time to think.
Sasuke moves first.
Fast.
Faster than expected.
He ducks, slides to the side.
Barely avoids a kick.
He throws a punch—Sasuke blocks.
Returns one—hits the ribs.
He gasps.
Sasuke's stronger than most genin.
This isn't a friendly spar.
He gets serious.
Takes a stance.
Focuses chakra.
But the left eye stings.
Activates on its own.
Suddenly…
Time slows.
He sees movements before they happen.
Sasuke steps left. Punches right.
He moves early.
Dodges.
Counterattack. A jab to the shoulder.
It lands.
Sasuke blinks.
Steps back.
Confused.
"Your movement… just now."
He doesn't answer.
The eye deactivates.
He winces.
Another price.
Iruka claps. "Alright! Break it off. Good match."
They walk back silently.
Sasuke glances sideways.
"You… are not normal."
No response.
He returns to his seat.
Watches the sky again.
Tick… Tick…
"94 hours left."
That evening.
He walks home.
Alone.
Streets are quiet again.
Too quiet.
As he turns a corner—
A chill.
Someone's watching.
He stops.
Waits.
Then he hears it—
A click.
Like metal tapping stone.
He turns fast.
A figure stands on the rooftop above.
Shrouded in black.
Wearing a porcelain mask.
They vanish instantly.
He runs.
Tries to follow.
Nothing.
He stops in an alley.
Breathing heavy.
Another click.
He turns again.
A kunai comes flying.
He ducks. It grazes his cheek.
A second attacker appears—close range.
He raises his arm. Blocks.
Another strike.
He stumbles.
They're skilled.
Professional.
Anbu?
No—different. Faster. Cruel.
His eye activates—instinct again.
Time slows.
He counters.
Grabs their arm. Twists.
They break free. Leap back.
Then pause.
A voice muffled behind the mask.
"So it's true. He has it."
The attacker vanishes again.
Gone.
He stands there, panting.
Hand bleeding.
He looks down.
A slip of paper on the ground.
He picks it up.
Only one line written:
"They will come for you. Watch your friends."
He crumples the note.
Burns it with chakra.
Looks to the night sky.
Clouds part.
The full moon glows above.
Reflected in his left eye.
And it shines back.