When Wen Lan arrived at the back mountain, the forest under the setting sun flickered with blue-white flashes of light—bright, then dim.
As he approached, he saw Sasuke drenched in sweat.
Both of his hands trembled violently. Burn marks from condensed chakra still lingered on his fingertips, and his palm was scorched black.
Hearing the footsteps, Sasuke raised his head, panting.
"Senpai."
"Not bad," Wen Lan said, stepping closer, his gaze falling on Sasuke's still-unsteady hand.
"I hadn't even arrived yet, and you were already training."
"I don't want Naruto to surpass me."
"Having conviction is good."
Wen Lan walked over and gently pressed a hand on Sasuke's head.
"Lightning can have form—or be formless.
Once you master Chidori, changes in your chakra nature will allow you to develop many different variations.
But what you need most right now is a solid foundation.
If your foundation is unstable, no matter how powerful the technique you learn, the power will eventually backfire on you."
"Yes."
Wen Lan released him. His fingers brushed over the burn marks on Sasuke's palm. A thread of warm chakra flowed in, and the burning pain immediately eased.
The charred skin began to heal at a visible speed.
Sasuke felt the warmth spread through his hand. The blackened marks faded rapidly, replaced by smooth new skin.
The next moment, he resumed training.
Wen Lan sat nearby, watching Sasuke repeatedly form hand seals and gather chakra. The boy's movements gradually shifted from clumsy to steady.
He began thinking about how to help Sasuke grow stronger more quickly.
The Uchiha clan was a strange one.
The Sharingan was directly tied to strength.
A clan member who never awakened it might remain a genin for life—
as if an invisible shackle locked their path to advancement.
But once the eyes awakened, power surged forward dramatically.
Strength would grow alongside the evolution of the Sharingan. Every emotional upheaval fed energy into those eyes.
At the same time, the user became more sensitive—
their desire for power, fear of weakness, distrust of others, and attachment to loved ones all intensified under the Sharingan's influence.
Yet those emotions also became fuel.
If the emotional trigger was strong enough, even a genin could awaken two tomoe or three tomoe instantly—and leap straight into jonin-level strength.
"Alright. That's enough for today. I'll take you home," Wen Lan said, narrowing his eyes slightly as he stood.
Sasuke looked confused but shook his head.
"I can keep going."
"Too much haste leads to failure. Listen to me."
Wen Lan turned and began walking away.
After a brief hesitation, Sasuke followed.
By the time they reached the Uchiha district, street lamps were lighting up one by one in the night, casting long shadows behind them.
Inside the clan leader's courtyard, Fugaku stood waiting, his gaze deep and steady.
"Father," Sasuke said obediently, stepping forward to bow.
Wen Lan spoke to him:
"Go inside first."
"Yes."
The thought of seeing his mother and brother made Sasuke beam with happiness as he ran into the house.
Fugaku looked at Wen Lan suspiciously.
"You have something to discuss?"
"I plan to use genjutsu to forcefully awaken his Sharingan," Wen Lan said quietly.
Fugaku's pupils contracted sharply.
He frowned.
"Do you realize that forcing an awakening brings him no benefit?"
"What people call a 'forced awakening' is simply a backup method when emotional conditions haven't naturally formed," Wen Lan replied calmly.
"It won't damage his body, mind, or potential.
But this requires Itachi.
My genjutsu style is too crude—more like smashing someone's brain directly."
Fugaku fell silent.
He turned toward the house.
Through the window, he saw Sasuke hugging Mikoto's leg with a bright smile, while Itachi stood nearby, watching gently.
After a moment of hesitation, Fugaku called out:
"Itachi. Come here."
Itachi immediately rose and walked over.
"Father. Senpai."
Wen Lan explained his plan.
Itachi pressed his lips together, clearly wanting to refuse. But seeing the look in Fugaku's eyes, he swallowed the words.
"What should I do?" he asked quietly.
"Tomorrow, on Sasuke's way home from school," Wen Lan said, "use an object as a trigger and cast a genjutsu on him.
The illusion will show me slaughtering the entire Uchiha clan—leaving no one alive.
And in front of him, I personally kill you, the clan leader, and Aunt Mikoto.
You've read storybooks, right?
Make me as evil as possible.
Make your deaths as tragic as possible."
Itachi and Fugaku both stared at Wen Lan with strange expressions.
Turning yourself into the villain—
you really have nerve.
Wen Lan remained calm, as if stating something ordinary.
"The deeper the pain, the stronger the awakening.
Sasuke needs this power—and he needs to remember the root of hatred."
Fugaku clenched his fists but did not stop him.
Itachi answered softly, a trace of reluctance in his eyes—yet he still nodded.
After the discussion ended, Wen Lan turned and left.
I refuse to believe it, he thought.
After reliving the massacre, that kid will still awaken only one tomoe.
Honestly, Sasuke's talent was hard to judge.
Obito awakened two tomoe when Rin was captured.
Itachi awakened two tomoe after witnessing a comrade die protecting him.
But Sasuke, in the original story, endured the destruction of his entire clan—
and only awakened a single tomoe in terror and rage.
One tomoe.
Pathetic.
Even when he finally gained the Mangekyō Sharingan, his eyesight deteriorated in less than half a month.
Ridiculous.
Still, Sasuke had one admirable trait—
when Danzo died, it felt as though the entire Uchiha clan had come to attend the funeral.
Itachi stood where he was, watching Wen Lan's figure disappear into the distance.
His fingertips trembled slightly.
The next day.
The setting sun slanted across the road as Sasuke walked home.
As he entered the Uchiha district, something rolled to a stop near his foot.
A glass marble.
It reflected the sunset in a blood-red glow.
Sasuke's pupils suddenly shrank.
The scene before him changed instantly.
A pool of blood slowly seeped from around a nearby corner.
His body trembled.
He rushed forward to look.
There, a clan member lay cut in half at the waist, mouth and eyes wide open as he stared at the sky.
The man slowly turned his head toward Sasuke.
With great effort, he forced out broken words:
"Yo… young… master… run…
Wen Lan… has… gone… mad…"
Before he could finish, the light left his eyes.
His breathing stopped.
Blood crept across the stone road like spreading vines.
Sasuke staggered backward, fear shaking his gaze.
He turned and ran deeper into the district.
He didn't understand what had happened—
but he had to tell his father.
Yet after only a few steps, terror seized him completely.
Everywhere he looked, there were mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.
Severed limbs littered the streets.
The ground was soaked crimson.
The thick stench of blood filled his lungs.
He stumbled and fell.
His fingertips brushed against half of a still-warm face.
Not far away lay the body of an infant—cut in half at the waist.
The tiny body soaked in blood.
Its lifeless eyes stared directly at him.
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