—DIE!
Noah jumped back with a fluid motion, landing a few meters away.
—Oh, how scary.
He wiggled his index finger back and forth, as if scolding a naughty child.
—Haven't you learned anything by now? Attacking me is useless. You're too weak, heh.
Noah's left eye changed.
The star-shaped pattern of the Mangekyō Sharingan appeared, spinning slowly in its orbit. The red light tinged Danzo's face.
Danzo pointed with a trembling finger. But before he could say anything else, his eyes became glassy. His body stood still and rigid as a statue.
Inside the illusion, Danzo opened his eyes.
He was in a forest. The trees rose around him, their leaves whispering in the wind. He recognized this place. He had been here before. Some years ago.
In front of him stood a group of familiar figures.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, with his armor and determination etched on his face. Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane, his ever-present comrades. Kagami Uchiha, his red eyes watching the horizon. And Tori Akimichi, his large body leaning against a tree.
And ahead of them all, with his back to them, the man who had led them.
Tobirama Senju.
The Second Hokage stopped beneath a large tree. He closed his eyes and pressed his palm against the ground. His chakra spread silently, reading the vibrations of the terrain.
—We are surrounded —he said as he opened his eyes—. Twenty enemies.
Homura swallowed.
—Sir… counting ourselves, we are seven against twenty. —He paused, uncomfortable—. This doesn't look good.
—Don't be so timid —Koharu retorted—. The enemy hasn't yet pinpointed our exact location. If we wait for the right moment, we can surprise them and withdraw.
Kagami shook his head.
—No. Not anymore. —He looked around and replied—. The only real option left is to create a distraction.
Danzo watched the scene, dazed. His heart pounded in his chest. Cold sweat ran down his back.
He felt again the same fear, the same hesitation he had felt when he first lived through this. The terror of dying. The terror of sacrificing himself. The terror of not being brave enough.
Just as Noah had said, he could not put others' lives above his own and sacrifice himself for a greater good.
—I'll do it.
Danzo froze.
The voice was not his. It came from ahead.
—Huh...?
Hiruzen stepped forward. His face was serene and determined.
—I'll be the decoy.
Danzo wanted to speak, wanted to move, wanted to stop him. But his body did not respond. He was trapped in the scene, condemned to witness it once more.
After that came the most unbearable moment of Danzo Shimura's life.
Tobirama turned to Hiruzen. His expression, normally severe, softened slightly.
—Hiruzen —he said, his voice deep but laden with a weight Danzo had never been able to fully understand—. You love the village more than anyone. Protect it. Protect those who believe in you… and raise the next generation so that one day they may succeed you.
Danzo felt a jolt. Tobirama's words resonated in his chest like tolls of a funeral bell.
—From tomorrow onward —Tobirama continued—, you will be the new Hokage. The village is in your hands.
Hiruzen bowed, solemnly, accepting his new position.
—No. No, no, no, no. NO!
Danzo roared.
His body broke free from the paralysis that had held him still. He lunged at Hiruzen, an imaginary kunai in his hand, ready to… to what? To kill him? To stop him? To prove that he too deserved to be the chosen one?
His attack cut through the air.
And suddenly, everything reset.
Danzo blinked. He was back at the beginning, behind the group, watching Tobirama stop beneath the large tree.
—Hiruzen —Tobirama said—. You love the village more than anyone. Protect it. Protect those who believe in you… and raise the next generation so that one day they may succeed you.
Anger and indignation appeared on Danzo's face. His fists clenched.
—NOT AGAIN!
He lunged at Hiruzen again. Again, his attack did not reach its target. The loop reset.
Tobirama stopped beneath the tree.
—We are surrounded —he said—. Twenty enemies.
Danzo began to experience the scene over and over.
Each cycle was identical to the last. The same words. The same gestures. The same choice that denied him what he believed was his destiny.
His resentment toward Hiruzen grew. His hatred for Tobirama intensified. Why? Why not him? Why always Hiruzen? What did Hiruzen have that he lacked?
At no point did he stop to reflect. At no point did he wonder whether perhaps, just perhaps, Tobirama had seen something in Hiruzen that he did not possess. At no point did he consider the possibility that his cowardice, his inability to sacrifice himself, was the reason for his exclusion.
He only blamed. Only hated. Only consumed himself in his own frustration and self-pity.
The loop continued.
Ten times. Twenty. A hundred.
Danzo lost track of time. Tobirama's words became an unbearable echo in his mind. The image of Hiruzen bowing, accepting the position that should have been his, was seared into his retina.
His sanity began to crack.
He no longer saw the scene clearly. Faces distorted. Voices became guttural. The forest turned red.
At some point, he no longer knew whether he was in reality or the nightmare.
—ENOUGH! —he roared, his voice hoarse and broken—. ENOUGH ALREADY!
He stopped in the middle of the clearing. He looked at Tobirama, repeating the same words for the umpteenth time. He looked at Hiruzen, bowing again and again.
And he made a decision.
His chakra began to turn chaotic. He compressed it inside himself, concentrating it into a single point, like a bomb about to explode.
—If I cannot be the Hokage —he murmured, his eyes empty—, then no one will. Not you, Hiruzen. Not you, Tobirama!
His body began to glow with a dim light.
—We'll all go to hell together!
---
Outside, Noah watched with his right Byakugan. The veins around his eye bulged slightly as he penetrated Danzo's skin and tissues, seeing how his chakra became unstable, chaotic, compressing into a point of self-destruction.
His face remained impassive.
Danzo was about to explode. His body was now a bomb of contained energy, about to release all his fury, all his frustration, and all his incompetence in one final explosion.
Noah created a psychic barrier around himself.
Danzo's body exploded.
The shockwave shook the ground. Blood, flesh remains, and bone fragments splattered in all directions, but Noah's barrier protected him completely. Not a single drop touched his clothes.
When the smoke cleared, only a smoking crater and absolute silence remained.
Noah lowered the barrier and looked at the spot where Danzo had been. His expression was that of someone who had just finished a tedious task.
—Well —he said, stretching his arms above his head—. Since this guy won't cause me any more trouble, I should go see what those Sky Country guys are up to. Maybe I'll find something really good to loot.
He turned to where Garaga lay coiled, satisfied after her feast.
—Coming?
The red serpent hissed, its forked tongue sliding between its fangs.
—Always.
Noah mounted Garaga's head, and the creature began to glide toward the horizon.