Uchiha Naruto: The Strongest

Chapter 39: Enough Wasting Time

The old Uchiha District lay in eerie silence beneath the pale glow of the moon, its abandoned structures bathed in ghostly silver light. Rain poured relentlessly, drumming against shattered rooftops and cascading down cracked stone walls like mourning tears. The streets, long forsaken, were flooded with murky water, each ripple distorting the reflection of lightning that split the sky. Thunder rolled overhead, a deep, guttural growl that sent vibrations through the air.

Through the downpour, Madara walked with an unhurried grace, his gaze indifferent as the storm howled around him. His long, black hair clung to his skin, heavy with rain, yet he moved as if untouched by the elements. Each step sent ripples through the pools beneath him, the sound swallowed by the roaring tempest.

Then, the air shifted.

A shadow streaked through the rain, its presence barely more than a flicker. A leg cut through the downpour with lethal precision, a blur of motion aimed at his ribs. Madara's forearm rose in an instant, the impact cracking through the night like a struck anvil. Water exploded from the collision, droplets scattering in the air before being lost in the storm.

Scarred fingers clenched against Madara's arm, a grip firm yet uncertain. A red eye gleamed beneath a soaked bandage, locking onto Madara's with quiet calculation. The aged face of Shimura Danzō peered from the shadows, expression unreadable save for the slight furrow of his brow.

Lightning split the sky.

For a moment, neither spoke. Neither moved.

Then, Madara struck.

He shoved Danzō's arm aside, his fingers darting toward the elder's bandaged eye. The bandages tore under his touch, exposing the crimson glow of a stolen Sharingan. Danzō ducked sharply, pivoting as he thrust a kunai toward Madara's heart, the blade glinting with deadly intent.

Madara's foot lashed out, colliding with Danzō's shin. The elder staggered, his kunai missing its mark, slicing only through the rain. Before he could recover, Madara's palm shot forward, his fingers spearing into Danzō's chest. The impact sent a tremor through the older man's frame—then, silence. His heart had been crushed instantly.

Danzō's body slumped, lifeless.

For only a moment.

Then, his form flickered and faded.

Madara's head snapped to the right, his body already in motion. In the time it took for Danzō to resurrect, Madara had closed the distance, fingers locking around the elder's throat. Rainwater dripped from Danzō's trembling lips as he gasped, struggling against the iron grip.

Madara wasted no time. With a swift, brutal yank, he tore the Sharingan from Danzō's right eye socket.

A strangled snarl tore from Danzō's throat as agony seared through him. Blood streamed down his face, mingling with the rain as he staggered backward. His breath came in ragged bursts, his shoulders heaving. His fist clenched, shaking—not with fear, but frustration.

A wild, rage-filled punch shot toward Madara. It was sloppy, fueled by pain rather than precision. Madara batted it aside with ease, his expression impassive. He leaped away, his silhouette vanishing into the storm.

Danzō collapsed to his knees, his trembling hand cupping the empty socket where his eye had been. Rain pelted his hunched form as his fist slammed against the flooded ground. His teeth grit, his breath came in shuddering bursts, and a single, bitter thought echoed in his mind.

'I should have taken him seriously from the start.'

-Elsewhere In The Uchiha Compound-

Madara stood atop a towering tree, his form barely distinguishable amid the relentless downpour. In his right hand, a glass jar filled with swirling green liquid reflected the occasional flash of lightning. In his left, the freshly stolen eye rested in his palm, crimson, and gleaming.