It was late at night in the capital of the Land of Fire.

Inside his study, the Third Hokage—Hiruzen Sarutobi—sat quietly behind his desk, dressed in plain white robes rather than his usual Hokage garb. Piles of scrolls and documents were stacked high in front of him, yet his hands moved swiftly and skillfully, handling each piece of paperwork with the ease of someone who had long grown used to the burden.

That is, until he picked up a scroll labeled with the Hatake clan’s insignia.

The moment his eyes scanned the contents, his movements gradually slowed.

“Hatake Sakumo returned to his residence yesterday evening. Reports confirm the loss of his right arm, severed from the shoulder, matching prior intel from Iwagakure.”

“Additional note: At 4 PM yesterday, Hatake Kyūjō was seen dining at the Akimichi Clan restaurant with Tsunade-hime, Orochimaru, Jiraiya, Namikaze Minato, and Dan Katō. Contents of their conversation remain unknown…”

Hiruzen’s eyes lingered on the scroll. He remained silent for several seconds before letting out a long, heavy sigh.

“Sakumo… Sakumo… It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let Danzo and Koharu run wild. Those two… they dared to go that far…”

“If only I had known you possessed such power… I would’ve gladly stepped down and handed over the Hokage title to you.”

His voice wasn’t for anyone else—it was a rare moment of honesty. There was no one else in the room, no audience, no need to pretend.

Yes… It was true that, deep down, Hiruzen never intended for Hatake Sakumo to become the Fourth Hokage. That’s why he silently allowed Shimura Danzo and Utatane Koharu to act as they pleased. But never—never—did he expect them to go so far.

They had maimed their own comrade. Not just any shinobi either, but Hatake Sakumo—a living legend of the village, a war hero with unparalleled strength and honor.

Hiruzen could not forgive such a thing.

Fortunately, he never planned to pass the Hokage mantle to Danzo or Koharu either. Their schemes would ultimately amount to nothing.

So why didn’t he choose Sakumo?

Well, the reasons were complicated.

And yes… a bit selfish, too.

In Hiruzen’s mind, the Hokage title should be passed down to someone from his own generation—his own students. He didn’t care which one it was, as long as they were his legacy.

Among the three, his personal favorite was someone most wouldn’t expect—Jiraiya.

Outwardly, Jiraiya was reckless, childish, and lacked the sense of duty one might expect from a leader. Despite being one of the Legendary Sannin, he didn’t command the same respect Sakumo did—or even Danzo, for that matter.

But to Hiruzen, Jiraiya held a virtue the others lacked.

He wasn’t ambitious. He didn’t seek power. And he had always followed his teacher’s will without question.

Tsunade, on the other hand… was too headstrong. Too emotional. And yes—she was a woman, prone to mood swings. When angry, even Hiruzen himself had taken a punch or two from her.

So naturally, she ranked last in his mental list of successors.

As for Orochimaru…

He was the most talented—Hiruzen had no doubt about that. A genius from a civilian background, who rose through brilliance alone.

But he had strayed from the ninja path. Too obsessed with his mysterious experiments, too detached from the village’s true needs.

And yet… maybe that wasn’t a weakness.

After all, Hiruzen was still healthy. Even after retirement, he could support the next generation from behind the scenes—offering his wisdom and guidance.

That was the ideal. A young, obedient Hokage… with the old master still pulling the strings.

But then, Hiruzen’s eyes drifted back to the scroll containing intel on Hatake Kyūjō, and he found himself frowning again.

What exactly is Hatake Kyūjō planning…?

A faint unease began to take root in his heart.

But he quickly shook it off. Sakumo was still alive. Kyūjō wouldn’t do anything reckless… right?

More importantly, that boy had always been a devout follower of the Will of Fire—an ideal Hiruzen had spent decades instilling into his students.

The Will of Fire teaches that all shinobi must sacrifice for the village. There was no way Kyūjō, of all people, would suddenly abandon that creed.

And even if he did go astray—surely the other shinobi in the village would oppose him. Hiruzen’s own reputation and influence were more than enough to stabilize Konoha… weren’t they?

He shook his head again, brushing away the doubts.

There was still work to do.

Right now, the biggest threat wasn’t from within, but from outside—namely, Ōnoki, the stubborn old Tsuchikage of Iwagakure, who had become increasingly arrogant in recent months.

Word had it he was gathering dissatisfied factions across the continent to wage war against Konoha.

But Hiruzen wasn’t worried.

Konoha’s military strength was at its peak.

If Iwagakure dared ally with Kumogakure, Konoha could just as easily forge its own alliances. The world of shinobi had always run on the currency of self-interest. Trade a little land here, make a few promises there—it was all part of the game.

And once they drove back Iwa and Kumo… they could reclaim everything.

If the enemy comes with a blade, respond with a shield. If they bring a flood, raise a dam.

The strategy was solid. Hiruzen had no reason to be afraid.

But even he had to admit… the workload had become overwhelming.

It was already past midnight. And still, he remained at his desk.

“…Haaah.”

He let out a quiet sigh as he reached for the next scroll.

His thoughts briefly wandered—cursing Danzo, Koharu, and Homura for the endless problems they created… all for the sake of power.

And that’s when it happened.

Suddenly, all the candles in the room flickered out at once—snuffed out by an invisible force.

Hiruzen’s pupils narrowed sharply.

He moved to call for the guards—but before he could speak, the room around him twisted. The floor beneath him vanished.

His desk and chair evaporated into nothingness.

But even caught off guard, Hiruzen Sarutobi—the so-called “Professor of Ninjutsu,” master of all elemental releases, a man once hailed as the strongest Hokage—showed no fear.

He understood instantly.

This was Genjutsu.

His expression hardened, and he began forming hand signs—preparing to counterattack…

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