reborn as Sakumo Hatake

The room had fallen eerily silent, save for the heavy breathing of those present. The air seemed to thrum with an oppressive energy as the Masked Man, now standing before Sakumo and Kakashi, exuded an aura of absolute power. His presence was suffocating, making the walls of the small interrogation room feel like a prison. Even Danzo, who typically exuded an air of control, seemed to take a step back as the man's chakra filled the room.

Sakumo's heart raced as he took in the masked figure. The face concealed behind the mask was not unfamiliar, yet it held a sense of mystery that unsettled him. The man's posture was confident, almost as though he were watching them with amusement, knowing something they did not. His eyes, visible through the mask's eye slits, gleamed with a chilling sense of purpose.

"Your meddling ends here, Sakumo Hatake," the Masked Man spoke, his voice smooth and sinister. There was no anger, no sense of emotion. It was as if he were stating a simple fact, not a threat.

Kakashi instinctively moved to stand in front of his father, his Sharingan activated and his posture alert. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice cold with resolve. "What do you want with Konoha?"

The Masked Man chuckled darkly, a sound that sent a shiver down Sakumo's spine. "Ah, Kakashi. The son of the legendary Sakumo Hatake. I've been watching you for some time now. You're a fascinating specimen. Just like your father, you carry the weight of a legacy. But your understanding of this world… is still far too shallow."

Sakumo's hand twitched at his side, instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. But he knew better than to charge blindly into battle. The man in front of them—whoever he truly was—had already demonstrated his ability to manipulate others, like Tanaka. And if Tanaka had been a pawn in his game, they had to be careful not to fall into the same trap.

"You speak as though you know us," Sakumo said, his voice steady. "But you've been hiding behind that mask, manipulating everyone around you. What do you want with Konoha?"

The Masked Man tilted his head slightly, as if considering Sakumo's words before responding. "Konoha is nothing but a stepping stone. You think it's the pinnacle of strength and order, but it's nothing more than a carefully constructed façade. The true power lies beyond your comprehension."

Sakumo narrowed his eyes. "So, you've been pulling the strings all along. Tanaka, the attacks on the village… it was all part of your plan."

"Correct," the Masked Man replied, his voice betraying no hint of hesitation. "Tanaka was merely a tool, a weapon to test the village's weaknesses. You see, all shinobi are disposable to me. I don't care about their pasts, their loyalties, or their struggles. They are nothing more than instruments in a grander scheme."

Kakashi's eyes burned with anger. "You think so little of human life? You've destroyed countless lives for your own gain!"

The Masked Man's gaze sharpened at Kakashi's words, but there was no sign of remorse or regret. "The world is a broken place, Kakashi. It has always been broken. And those who have the strength to shape it are the ones who will rule it. You may not understand it now, but in time, you will. All of you will."

Sakumo clenched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. He had seen the depths of darkness before, but there was something about this man that felt different. His motives weren't driven by revenge, nor by power for power's sake. There was something deeper at play, something that transcended individual ambition.

"What are you trying to accomplish?" Sakumo asked, his voice tense. "What's your endgame?"

The Masked Man's eyes glinted behind his mask, as though he had been waiting for this very question. "The endgame? It's simple, really. I'm going to destroy the old world and build a new one from its ashes. A world where power reigns supreme. A world where no one is bound by the limitations of the past. Konoha is merely one of many obstacles in my way, and it will fall just like the others."

Sakumo felt a surge of anger, but he kept his composure. "You want to bring destruction to the world, and for what? To create a new order of your own? What makes you think you have the right to decide the fate of the world?"

The Masked Man's laughter filled the room, a low and mocking sound that made the hairs on the back of Sakumo's neck stand on end. "Right? The world doesn't work on the concept of 'right' or 'wrong.' It works on power, Sakumo. The strong survive, and the weak perish. Those who can shape the world will do so, regardless of what others think. The old systems—Konoha, the clans, the Hokage—none of them matter. The world has outgrown such petty ideals."

Sakumo's mind raced as he tried to understand the full scope of the Masked Man's plans. Was he truly willing to burn everything to the ground for the sake of his vision? The destruction of Konoha, the manipulation of shinobi like Tanaka—it was all part of a much larger, more terrifying plan.

"You talk about power," Kakashi said, his voice cold and steady, "but it seems to me that you're the one hiding behind a mask. The true face of a coward."

The Masked Man's gaze hardened, and for the first time, Sakumo saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes—rage. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "You don't understand, Kakashi. This mask isn't a shield. It's a symbol. A symbol of the world that will rise from the ashes. My mask is the face of the future."

Sakumo felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He could see the conviction in the Masked Man's eyes. He truly believed in this twisted vision of the world. And worse yet, he was willing to sacrifice everything to bring it to life.

"We're not going to let you do this," Sakumo declared, stepping forward with renewed determination. "You can't control us. You can't control Konoha."

The Masked Man studied Sakumo for a long moment, and for an instant, there was an eerie calm in the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and deliberate.

"We shall see about that."

In an instant, the air around them seemed to crackle with energy, and the Masked Man's chakra flared outward. Sakumo instinctively drew his sword, his grip tightening around the hilt. Kakashi stepped closer to his side, his Sharingan blazing with determination. The ANBU agents positioned themselves, preparing for whatever came next.

But the Masked Man didn't move.

Instead, a voice echoed from the shadows, cold and familiar.

"You don't have to fight him."

Everyone in the room froze.

Sakumo's blood ran cold as the new voice, calm and commanding, reverberated through the room. He didn't have to turn to know who it was.

Danzo.