Rising Shadows: Uchiha's Wrath

Since you dared to trespass into Hozuki Castle, I have no choice but to deal with you!"

Mui had already made up his mind—once he captured Kaito, he would find out exactly how he had learned about this place. Then, he would eliminate anyone else who knew of its existence. Kusagakure could not afford any loose ends.

Taking a step back, Mui barked an order to the guards around him. "Take him down!"

Immediately, dozens of shinobi charged at Kaito. However, they were nothing more than prison guards—hardly a real threat. The prisoners they oversaw weren't high-profile figures or dangerous to the major nations. This place existed to hold outcasts, not top-tier criminals.

And with the world at war, no powerful nation would waste elite forces here.

Kaito didn't even need to exert much effort. With a single hand sign, he brought his fingers near his lips and took a deep breath.

"Katon: Gōka Mekkyaku!"

A roaring sea of flames surged forward, an unstoppable tidal wave of searing heat that swallowed everything in its path. The first to be consumed were the nearest guardsmen who had spent their lives honing their skills, only to be reduced to screaming wretches in mere seconds.

Their armor, meant to protect them, turned into ovens, trapping the unbearable heat against their flesh. Some tried to fight back, hands flying into desperate seals, but their fingers blistered and melted before they could finish.

The unlucky ones who managed to release a Suiton jutsu watched in horror as their conjured water hissed into steam before even touching the flames. The heat was too intense, too unnatural—it devoured everything.

 Screams rang through the square, high-pitched and raw, but they lasted only moments before vocal cords burned away. Flesh peeled from the bone like overcooked meat, exposing glistening muscle that blackened in seconds.

Their eyes, bulging in terror, sizzled as they boiled in their sockets. The sickening stench of burning fat and charring organs filled the air, thick and nauseating, mingling with the acrid smoke that rose from their disintegrating corpses.

The fire didn't just kill; it erased.

Limbs curled inward as tendons shrank, bodies collapsing in on themselves in grotesque, unnatural positions. Bones cracked and split from the sheer intensity of the heat, marrow bubbling out like molten wax.

Some remain still twitched, nerves firing off their last dying impulses, even as their skulls collapse inward like crumbling ashes.

By the time the inferno finally relented, the once-proud warriors were nothing more than smoldering heaps of blackened ruin. Their armor lay in molten pools, fused to the ground, their swords warped beyond recognition. The wind carried away what little remained of them—ash, weightless and fragile, drifting into the night like the ghosts of the fallen.

A massacre. A purge. An execution by fire. And not a single soul had been spared.

"Pathetic."

Kaito scoffed in disdain before turning his gaze to Mui, who stood frozen in terror.

Tah… tah…

Kaito's footsteps echoed through the eerily silent prison. Each step landed like a hammer against Mui's chest.

The devastating Katon technique had left no doubt about the vast difference in their power. Under the weight of impending death, Mui's once-composed facade crumbled into raw fear. His expression twisted in horror as Kaito drew near, but his legs refused to move.

Finally, Kaito stopped before him. "Lead the way."

Mui blinked in stunned silence. Then, realization dawned—he was still alive. Kaito had chosen not to kill him immediately.

Relief flooded through him, though his attempt at a smile was closer to a grimace. Without hesitation, he turned and hurriedly led Kaito deeper into the fortress. He dared not utter a word, and Kaito followed in silence.

After several minutes, they arrived at Mui's private quarters. Without delay, Mui activated a hidden mechanism, revealing a secret passage leading underground.

"S-Sir, this is it..." Mui stammered.

"Keep moving," Kaito ordered.

Swallowing hard, Mui stepped into the passage first, with Kaito following close behind. The corridor led them to a spacious underground chamber, at its center a stone altar. Above it, a grotesque, menacing face was carved into the wall.

One of the four faces of the infamous Box of Ultimate Bliss.

"This is it," Mui said reverently. "The Box of Ultimate Bliss."

Kaito examined it before asking, "How far have you gotten?"

"We've studied it extensively. It just needs more chakra," Mui explained. "I've sacrificed dozens of prisoners over the years. A few more, and it should be ready."

"Chakra, huh?" Kaito narrowed his eyes. "That won't be an issue."

He extended his hand, gathering an immense amount of chakra in his palm. The sheer volume of energy dwarfed anything Mui had ever felt. His breath hitched.

"Begin the activation."

For a moment, Mui hesitated. Then, a slow, twisted smile crept onto his face.

Kaito didn't know how the Box worked. According to Grassyin Village's records, the Box granted only the wishes of the one who activated it. Now, Kaito had handed him the chakra—meaning he would be the one making the wish. He would become the master of the Box!

Suppressing his excitement, Mui began the ritual.

Kaito, standing nearby, observed him with mild amusement. He had already seen through Mui's foolish scheme. It was laughable—these small-time shinobi believed the Box of Ultimate Bliss could grant them absolute power.

After several minutes, the ritual reached its climax. The carved face on the Box darkened into a sinister black and purple. The entire chamber trembled as the Box began to stir.

Kaito stepped back, vanishing in a blur and reappearing in the square above just as a white beam of light shot skyward, splitting through the prison's surface. Hundreds of prisoners, who had been trying to flee amidst the chaos, halted in stunned silence.

Moments later, the ground rumbled as the Box of Ultimate Bliss emerged from below. Mui followed, eyes gleaming with unrestrained madness.

"Hahaha…! It's finally happening! The dream of Kusagakure will be realized at last!"

Perched on a nearby rooftop, Kaito watched the spectacle unfold, his expression unreadable.

Mui, now lost in his delusions, spread his arms toward the Box and declared, "Box of Ultimate Bliss! Open and grant me the power to rule the world!"

The air thickened with an ominous energy. The Box trembled violently, releasing a pulse of sinister chakra. Mui's grin widened in anticipation.

Then, the face on the Box cracked. Piece by piece, the stone peeled away, revealing a dark, gaping void. A shadowy figure stepped forward—its movements slow, deliberate.

Mui's breath hitched. His eyes widened in shock as he recognized the figure emerging from the darkness.

No… Impossible…!

It was his son. The very child he had thrown into the depths of the Box sacrificed like nothing more than a pawn for his ambitions. And yet, here he stood.

The boy's hollow, soulless eyes locked onto Mui, devoid of warmth, devoid of life.

"Father."

The word was a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a curse. Mui's breath caught in his throat.

His body screamed at him to move, to run, but his legs felt like they had been shackled to the earth. His mind reeled—this wasn't how it was supposed to be. The Box was supposed to grant him power, not spit out the very thing he had discarded.

Panic surged through him. He had to escape. If the Box had failed him, then—He turned.

Too late.

The boy moved with something beyond speed—beyond human. His form twisted like a phantom, appearing before Mui in an instant. Before the warden could even scream, his son's hand shot forward, claws sinking into his abdomen. A wet, visceral squelch.

Mui choked. His body spasmed violently as his son twisted his hand inside his gut, fingers wrenching through organs with sickening ease. A strangled noise escaped his throat as an eruption of hot, searing pain overtook him.

But the boy wasn't done. His fingers clenched—ripped—and Mui felt something vital being torn apart inside him. His stomach lurched, a putrid taste flooding his mouth as he coughed up thick, dark blood.

He gasped, eyes bulging, hands clawing weakly at the arm buried in his torso, but there was no mercy to be found. The boy's face remained eerily passive, eyes blank and unfeeling as he drove his other hand into Mui's ribcage. Bones cracked. Then snapped.

Mui shrieked, his voice raw with agony as his ribs caved inward, jagged bone tearing through muscle like splinters through flesh. His body convulsed as his son's grip tightened around something inside him—his heart.

Mui's vision blurred with pain. His mouth opened in a silent plea, but no words came. His body betrayed him. He could feel his strength slipping away, his heartbeat growing frantic, erratic—weak. His son leaned in, his breath chilling against Mui's ear.

"Does it hurt?"

Mui barely managed a wheezing gasp before—A grotesque, wet sound filled the air as his son ripped his heart free.

A fresh geyser of blood erupted from his chest, splattering the ground in a deep crimson spray. Mui staggered back, his hands trembling as they weakly grasped at the gaping void in his torso. His heart, his very essence, still pulsed in his son's hand, pumping weakly for mere seconds before slowing… slowing…Stopping. Mui's mouth opened and closed as if trying to form words, but nothing came. His vision darkened, the edges consumed by an abyssal blackness.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees, the warmth rapidly draining from his body. His son watched as his father—his murderer—slumped lifelessly to the ground, his face frozen in an expression of sheer, unrelenting horror. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then, with a quiet exhale, the boy crushed the still heart in his palm, letting the blood drip through his fingers. (T/N: "Fly hard, lil bro💀🔥... You will be remembered 🦅 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥)

And for the first time in years, the prison was truly silent.