Prologue

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Would the boy make the right decision? Should he even consider his own words as truth? If spoken in doubt as they were surely coated in, would the words come across as genuine to the ears of one who knew only doubt?

He was a hypocrite to even expect anything at this turn. It wouldn't matter, there was no point. He just like himself was and would just be a pawn.

His name was Uchiha Obito. A hero that would always be remembered, but a boy who was slowly fading away. Sacrificing half of his being was not a choice, but a necessity. Forced to watch everything and everyone leave him.

It wasn't fair, he had so little to begin with: a caretaker who had taken him in only for him to take care of her. There was no love there, no true comfort. She was old and needed looking after. He was a young orphan and a disappointment to a proud clan. No one had to pay for garbage.

But he was entitled to enrollment. He could become someone, could climb out of this pesky hole. He could become a Shinobi worth something. That particular road was very short.

A team, a family. A teacher that genuinely cared for him and teammates that acknowledged him. He had never known these sensations.

But it was all for naught.

Now, years later, he was a different boy. Or young man.

At the moment, a war was erupting all around them. The great Countries were tearing each other apart and while in the middle of it, it concerned him very little.

He had come for the boy with the blood. Blood thin, but still better than his.

Uzumaki Nagato.

The will of the relics wasn't here.

Obito was crouching down on the roof of the house he needed to be in. A simple handseal brought to life real copies of himself. A Technique called the Kage Bunshin. A Jutsu originating from Konohagakure, the Shadow Clone Technique.

Rain was assaulting him quite heavily, but it didn't seem to faze him. In fact, if one would look closer, the rain didn't even seem to be touching him.

'Another life will be ruined for the so-called greater good. This one as innocent as they come.' The Uchiha thought, hating himself for having to kill the boy's parents.

A boy in despair made for an easy tool to wield.

Perhaps, he could twist the path a bit. His hate had dwindled down considerably and the same could be said for his pain. Acceptance was such a numb stab.

The original plan was to make his Shadow Clones do a Henge, a Transformation Technique, to make them look like Shinobi from Konoha. They, in turn, would kill the boy's parents, which would make the boy hold an eternal grudge against Konoha.

Obito felt a bit tired tonight. If things couldn't get any better anyway, then perhaps they couldn't get any worse either. He had already lost the one he considered most precious.

The one he cherished so much was killed right in front of his eyes by his best friend. One teammate killed the other. He was young then, and so easily absorbed by his own rage.

Right now though, there was nothing. Emptiness. It is hard to find something to be angry at in the emptiness. There was only a silent, but resolute resignation.

Not one that said he had given up.

For one can only get so hopeless.

The former Konoha-nin nodded his head ever so slowly. 'Let us try this a tad differently.'

Sure, he was saved from a lonesome death. Only to live a lonesome life. There was really no need for gratitude nor did he feel like he was indebted.

His Sharingan eyes narrowed dangerously. Could the Jutsu he would be using tonight have sprung on him in the past?

Resolved, Obito snarled at the world and at himself. He truly was a weak fool.

"And then, there no longer was a need to listen to relics of the past." The young man sorrowfully whispered to the raindrops.

The transformed Shadow Clones donned the Hitai-Ate of Amegakure.

No matter what, the young boy would lose his parents tonight.

Redemption would never be found.