Itachi's crimson eyes narrowed, the Sharingan blazing with intensity. Akuma was an enigma—no chakra, no spiritual energy that he could sense. The usual tricks, the genjutsu he had used to break even the most powerful opponents, were ineffective. But Itachi's curiosity was piqued. What was it about this boy? How did he know every hidden truth, every vulnerability—even the deepest, most well-guarded secrets? The questions clawed at him.
There was only one answer to his burning curiosity.
Without a word, without a hand sign, Itachi activated Tsukuyomi.
And then—nothing.
No mind-shattering illusion.
No endless torment.
Itachi's eyes widened ever so slightly, a fleeting moment of disbelief cracking his composed exterior.
Impossible...
Even shinobi of the highest caliber, like Orochimaru, could not withstand his genjutsu. And yet, here stood this seven-year-old boy—unbroken, unaffected. The weight of the moment settled like a suffocating fog.
How is he resisting it?
But it wasn't just that.
Itachi could feel it now. A pressure in the air—a presence far more dangerous than mere malice. It wasn't dark aura. It wasn't killing intent. It was something far more primal, more instinctive.
The unknown.
And it terrified him.
The boy wasn't just strong—he was something else. Something that didn't belong in the world of shinobi.
Itachi stepped back, his stoic mask cracking for the first time in years. A shiver of uncertainty ran through him.
And then, it happened.
The ground beneath Akuma cracked, sending violent shockwaves through the earth. Red energy erupted from him in a torrent, a savage roar tearing through the air. The boy's aura was no longer human—it was a twisted, primal force, dark and suffused with an insatiable hunger for destruction. The very sky seemed to respond—dark clouds roiling above, thunder booming as though the heavens themselves recoiled from the power pouring from the boy.
This wasn't chakra.
It was something ancient.
Something savage.
Akuma's form shifted in the darkness, glowing crimson eyes gleaming with a ferocity that twisted the very air around him. His fangs elongated—sharp and deadly. Clawed hands surged with raw, violent power. The world seemed to warp in his presence, as if even nature itself struggled to comprehend the force of hatred incarnate.
Itachi's gaze darted over the boy, trying to make sense of it all.
This was beyond anything he had ever encountered.
The boy's strength wasn't just raw power—it was a dark, uncontrollable force that defied all logic.
Who is he...?
Akuma's presence was an enigma—a mystery wrapped in malice and power.
Itachi's mind raced. To engage in battle now would be disastrous. He could already feel the weight of the boy's gaze, the awareness that Akuma knew everything about him—his techniques, his weaknesses, even his deepest fears.
And yet, Itachi knew nothing about him.
Not his origins.
Not his limits.
Not his intent.
Everything about Akuma was a puzzle with no answers.
That made him dangerous.
More dangerous than any foe Itachi had faced before.
The choices were simple:
Fight—and risk exposing himself to the village—
Or retreat, and escape before the situation spiraled out of control.
But Akuma wouldn't let him leave easily. That much was clear. The boy's gaze was sharp. Unyielding.
There was only one option left: escape quickly, without alerting another ninja. After that he had to understand this anomaly—before it grew beyond even his capacity to control.
The storm was rising.
And Akuma was at its heart.
Itachi prepared to flee.
But Akuma's eyes narrowed the moment he sensed it. The moment Itachi tried to escape.
In a flash, he lunged forward—his fists crashing through the air like hammers of judgment.
With no time to dodge, Itachi crossed both arms in defense.
BOOM!
The impact sent shockwaves across the battlefield. Even with the block, the sheer force launched Itachi backward, skidding and flipping across the ground before regaining his footing. He used the momentum to widen the gap between them, his mind racing.
Without wasting a breath, Itachi formed three clones—each darting in a different direction with flawless synchronization.
A classic feint.
But it failed instantly.
Akuma's eyes didn't even flinch. The Absolute Dimension Lock Ring pulsed faintly around his finger, locking onto the real Itachi with unerring precision.
There.
He bolted forward like a bullet, leaving dust clouds and fractured stone in his wake.
Realizing his trick had failed, Itachi redirected the three clones, sending them to intercept Akuma mid-charge to buy himself precious seconds.
They never stood a chance.
With ruthless efficiency, Akuma tore through them. A single punch shattered the first. A spinning kick erased the second. The third barely raised a hand before being crushed into smoke and wind.
But even that brief delay had given Itachi a significant lead.
He was already faster than Akuma—but now, with more distance between them, catching up seemed almost impossible.
Akuma clenched his fists. At this rate, Itachi would escape.
Unless…
A sudden pulse of crimson energy surged around his body. The Satsui no Hado stirred—like a beast awakened.
Without hesitation, Akuma vanished—teleporting forward with a burst of raw power. Space itself trembled from the violent distortion.
CRACK!
He reappeared just a few feet from Itachi, his presence crashing down like a hammer of gravity.
Itachi glanced back—and froze.
He closed the gap... instantly?
He had no idea what technique Akuma had used—but one thing was certain: if Akuma used it again, escape would be impossible.
The grim truth sank in.
He couldn't run.
Not from this monster.
With a sharp breath, Itachi skidded to a halt, spinning on his heel to face Akuma. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were razor-focused.
He had to end this.
Quickly.
Before the ninja of the village arrived.
He still didn't know the full extent of Akuma's power, but one thing was clear—he could no longer afford to underestimate him.
So he made a decision.
To go all out.
No more holding back.
This fight needed to end—now.