UCHIHA LIBERATOR (NARUTO X MALE UCHIHA OC)

Chapter 5

3rd Person pov

Ryuichi's dream began innocently enough, as they often did, with the familiar surroundings of Konoha taking shape around him in a soft, hazy light. He found himself standing in a quiet part of the village, the streets bathed in the pale glow of moonlight, the sky above scattered with stars. Everything seemed peaceful at first, but there was something off. The silence wasn't serene; it was heavy, unnatural, as though the world itself was holding its breath.

As he took a tentative step forward, the village began to shift unnervingly. The buildings around him warped and twisted, the walls bending in ways that defied reality, like the entire landscape was being reshaped by some unseen force. Panic rose in his chest, and he froze, trying to understand what was happening.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him shook violently, a tremor so powerful that it rattled the very air. The sky above, once calm and starry, transformed into a swirling vortex of shadow and chaos. Ryuichi's heart pounded, and he felt a deep, instinctual fear grip him as a primal roar filled the air, the sound reverberating through his body. It was a sound so immense, so filled with raw fury, that it seemed to pierce his soul.

The tremors grew stronger, and Ryuichi's legs felt as if they had turned to stone, unable to move. He wanted to run, to escape, but his body refused to obey. He could only watch, helpless, as the monstrous form of the Kyūbi—the Nine-Tails—began to emerge from the swirling darkness.

It was a sight beyond comprehension. The Kyūbi towered over the village, its presence so immense and terrifying that the entire world seemed to shrink in comparison. Its blood-red eyes burned with malice, glowing like embers in the night, and its fur bristled with violent energy. Each of its nine massive tails lashed out, tearing through the landscape with terrifying ease, reducing homes and streets to rubble. The sheer power radiating from the beast was suffocating, making Ryuichi feel small, insignificant, like a speck before an unstoppable storm.

The Kyūbi let out another deafening roar, its voice shaking the heavens and the earth alike. With each thrash of its tails, more of Konoha crumbled into dust, the air thick with smoke and debris. The destruction was absolute, the village he knew obliterated by the Kyūbi's unrelenting rage.

Amidst the chaos, something else caught his attention. A figure—small, broken—lay crumpled on the ground in the shadow of the rampaging beast. Ryuichi's eyes widened in horror as he recognized her: Kushina Uzumaki, his tutor and the woman who had taught him so much.

But this was not the fierce, vibrant Kushina he knew. Her once brilliant red hair was matted with blood, and her body lay twisted and limp, pinned to the ground by the Kyūbi's massive claw. The sight was horrifying, a cruel mockery of the woman who had always seemed invincible to him. Blood pooled around her, dark and ominous, seeping into the shattered earth, and her breathing—ragged and shallow—was barely audible amidst the cacophony of destruction.

"K-Kushina-san?" Ryuichi's voice trembled, barely a whisper, his words lost in the roar of the Kyūbi.

But there was no response. Kushina lay motionless, her body broken, her life slipping away before his very eyes. The sight of her impaled, helpless against the Kyūbi's overwhelming might, made his stomach churn with dread. The invincible Kushina, who had always seemed so strong, was now dying, and there was nothing he could do.

"Why...?" he muttered, his voice shaking as tears welled in his eyes. He didn't understand. How could this happen?

And then, amidst the chaos, another figure appeared—a man, standing tall and resolute in front of the Kyūbi. His golden hair shone like a beacon even in the gloom, and though his face was obscured by shadows, there was something about him that demanded attention. His white cloak, bearing the insignia of the Hokage, fluttered in the violent winds stirred by the Kyūbi's thrashing. He radiated power, but also a quiet, unspoken sadness.