UCHIHA JOURNEY TO MULTIVERSE

A night unlike any other had fallen on Konohagakure. The air was thick with unease, a tension that seemed to vibrate through the very stones of the village. In the Uchiha compound, shadows flickered across paper walls as the clan's radical division gathered in the main hall. Uchiha Mali, now seven, stood beside his grandfather Raigen, his sharp eyes reflecting the torchlight and the weight of secrets he carried.

Suddenly, a distant rumble shook the ground. Screams echoed from the village center. The sky split open with the monstrous roar of the Nine-Tails. Flames and debris rose above the rooftops. The attack had begun—Konoha was under siege.

Raigen's voice was calm but urgent. "This is the moment. We move now, or we may never have another chance."

Mali nodded, his mind racing. He had foreseen this night, piecing together clues from whispers and his own intuition. He leaned in, whispering, "We must act quickly. The chaos is our cover. Send the infiltration team to the Hokage's office. The forbidden scroll is our priority."

Raigen relayed the order. Four elite Uchiha, faces masked, slipped into the darkness, their chakra signatures suppressed. Mali watched them go, feeling the gravity of what they were about to attempt. The forbidden scroll of Tobirama—rumored to contain jutsu too dangerous for any but the Hokage—was locked away in the heart of the village. Tonight, it would be theirs.

Meanwhile, another squad prepared to deal with Root operatives. For weeks, the radicals had tracked the silent watchers in the alleys and rooftops—Danzo's men, always lurking, always suspicious. The plan was ruthless but necessary: eliminate the surveillance, or risk the entire clan's escape.

As the Nine-Tails rampaged, tearing through the village walls, the Uchiha teams moved. The infiltration squad darted through side streets, avoiding burning buildings and panicked villagers. At the Hokage's office, they encountered two ANBU, distracted by the chaos outside. A brief, silent clash—kunai flashed, genjutsu shimmered, and the Uchiha pressed forward. One member picked the lock, another disabled the traps. In minutes, the scroll was in their hands.

Elsewhere, the Root operatives never saw their end coming. The Uchiha struck from the shadows, using genjutsu to confuse and silence. A few Roots fought back fiercely, but the radicals were prepared. The last of Danzo's spies fell, and the path was clear.

Back at the compound, Mali's heart pounded. He turned to his grandfather. "We need to deal with Shisui. His eyes are too valuable. If he opposes us, he could ruin everything."

Raigen hesitated, regret flickering across his face. "He is family. But you're right." He sent a signal. Three radicals approached Shisui's quarters. The young prodigy sensed them only at the last moment, but it was too late. A brief struggle, a flash of red, and Shisui fell, his Sharingan forcibly taken. They left him alive, but broken—his power now in their hands.

On the other side of the village, Kakashi Hatake sat alone in his room, battered from the battle outside. He barely had time to react as the Uchiha squad burst in. Kakashi fought with desperate skill, but he was outnumbered and exhausted. They pinned him, and with grim efficiency, took the Sharingan from his left eye. The pain was blinding, but Kakashi did not cry out. The Uchiha left him alive, a silent apology lingering in the air.

With the scroll secured, Root eliminated, and their targets neutralized, the radicals gathered the last of their supplies. Mali's hands trembled as he helped distribute food and medical kits. He looked around at the faces—some determined, some afraid, all changed forever.

Raigen gave the final order. "Activate the clones. We need to buy time."

Dozens of shadow clones, disguised as Uchiha men, women, and children, filled the compound. To any observer, it would seem the clan was sheltering in place, waiting out the disaster. In reality, the true radicals slipped out through hidden tunnels and back alleys, moving in small groups toward the village's edge.

As they reached the outer walls, a patrol of Hyuga nearly spotted them. For a tense moment, it seemed all would be lost. But a quick genjutsu and a diversion allowed the Uchiha to slip past. The radicals killed only when absolutely necessary, leaving behind as little evidence as possible.

Finally, outside the village, the group paused. Mali looked back at the burning skyline of Konoha, his heart heavy. This was not the escape of heroes, but of survivors—of those who had chosen their clan over their home.

Behind them, the clones continued their charade. It would be hours, maybe days, before the truth was uncovered.

The Uchiha radicals vanished into the night, carrying with them forbidden knowledge, stolen power, and the hope that somewhere beyond the village walls, they could build something new.