The grand Council chamber was filled to the brim.
Clan heads, civil representatives, and high-ranking jonin filled the ring-shaped table, the Hokage's seat at the head, raised slightly above the rest. Today was not an ordinary gathering.
Hiruzen Sarutobi stood at his place, posture straight, eyes sharper than they'd been in years. Beside him stood Iruka Umino, not in his flak jacket, but in full Jonin regalia, bearing the Uzumaki swirl with pride.
Whispers circled the room like vultures.
"The old man actually called a full session…"
"What's Iruka doing here?"
"Since when does he have authority to attend?"
Hiashi Hyuga narrowed his eyes. "Hokage-sama, with all due respect, what is a mere jonin doing in a council meeting?"
The room nodded, murmurs swelling. Asuma, seated as the Sarutobi clan representative, spoke up with folded arms. "Yeah, he just got promoted. He hasn't earned the right to stand in this chamber."
Iruka opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off.
"Silence," Hiruzen said softly.
But his chakra—his will—rose with the word.
The temperature in the room dropped. A suffocating pressure fell upon the civil council first. Their breath hitched. Some clutched their chests. Others saw, for a moment, visions—illusions conjured not by genjutsu, but pure killing intent. Piles of corpses. Charred streets. Screaming civilians.
A merchant gasped, pale as a ghost. "What… what is this?!"
"This," said an older clan head, voice quiet with awe, "is the Professor we once knew…"
Another leaned forward, whispering, "He hasn't released this kind of pressure since the Second War…"
The younger members? They looked terrified.
One choked out, "What happened to him?!"
But Hiruzen wasn't done.
"You question why Iruka is here?" he said, voice low and terrible. "He has more loyalty, more courage, and more clarity than half this chamber. You mock his presence, yet did nothing while the Uzumaki were erased from history!"
The civil council flinched.
"Which brings us," Hiruzen said, taking his seat slowly, "to why we're here. Who authorized the removal of Uzumaki clan history? Who sabotaged the Senju legacy?"
A smug merchant rose. "Why should our children waste time studying fallen clans? What value do corpses hold—?"
Before Iruka could step forward, Hiashi interrupted. "This is nonsense. What do the clans of the past matter? Let's speak of now."
Koharu and Homura nodded.
"Yes," said Homura. "We must look forward. This is pointless."
"This village was built by the Senju and the Uzumaki!" Hiruzen roared, silencing the chamber again. "Does their sacrifice mean nothing to you?"
A heavy silence followed.
Then one of the older Nara elders muttered, "This isn't the gentle old man we knew…"
And another, watching Iruka calmly observing it all with folded arms and a faint smirk, whispered:
"When did Iruka become more terrifying than Kakashi?"
Kakashi, seated calmly with one eye visible, offered no argument. His Sharingan eye was wide open behind the mask—watching.
That's when it happened.
A subtle shimmer. A flicker of chakra.
Iruka's brow twitched. His Observation Haki flared.
Danzo.
The man hadn't moved physically. But his eye—the stolen eye—was casting something. Something foul.
"Kotoamatsukami," Iruka murmured, so low only Hiruzen heard it.
Without another word, Iruka stepped forward.
His will exploded.
The air rippled. Every cup in the room cracked. The table groaned under the weight of his Conqueror's Haki.
Danzo's jutsu faltered. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped unconscious, blood dripping from his nostrils.
The entire chamber froze.
Iruka looked down at the slumped elder. "Now that he's fainted, Hokage-sama…"
Hiruzen didn't even blink. "ANBU. Chakra suppression seal. Now."
A blur of movement. Four masked shinobi dropped in, slamming a seal tag onto Danzo's chest. His body shimmered, and all Root chakra links were severed.
Fu, seated further down as a supposed Yamanaka envoy, lunged.
But Shikaku Nara's shadow moved faster.
"You're not going anywhere," he said lazily, binding Fu in place.
Inoichi, face grim, stared at his fellow clansman. "So… you were Root all along."
Fu didn't answer. He couldn't. The shadow bind was too tight.
Hiruzen straightened his robes. "Now then. Back to the topic."
He looked at the gathered clan heads. "Who sabotaged the Academy standards? Since when did genin graduate without tree-walking? Water-walking? Combat readiness?"
No one answered.
"I'll ask again," Hiruzen said. "Who allowed this once most powerful hidden village… to be mocked as equal by lesser nations?"
Koharu and Homura tried to defend their past decisions, voices strained.
"We were trying to protect—"
"Protect?" Hiruzen interrupted. "Or weaken us from within?"
A civilian representative finally shouted, "Why are you blaming us?!"
Hiruzen's glare cut through him. "So the clans that founded this village mean nothing to you?"
A hush.
The council dared not move.
Finally, Asuma spoke, his voice heavy. "Father… You're serious about this."
Hiruzen turned to him. "We'll discuss your part in this later."
Kakashi sighed, raising a hand lazily. "For what it's worth… I think Iruka earned his seat today."
Hiashi, still stiff, said nothing more—but his expression tightened. Hiruzen turned to him.
"When this is over," he said coldly, "we'll be discussing what's happening within the Hyuga clan."
The faintest tremor ran through Hiashi's otherwise impassive face.
Iruka stepped forward, expression calm but sharp as a drawn blade.
"Enough of silence. If you fear the truth, you've no right to lead. The clans that built this village bled for it. Their legacies will be restored."
He paused.
"And as for Danzo… let today mark the beginning of the purge."
Hiruzen gave one firm nod.
"Prepare the public chamber. We'll make this official."
He turned, cloak flaring behind him as he left the room.
"The Professor is back," someone whispered.
And as Iruka followed, every clan head and elder left behind realized…
This time…
He wasn't alone.
---
To be continued....
This chapter is rushed I have a festival today, so I'm a bit busy.