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Danzo sat in his dimly lit office, the shadows casting angular lines across his stern, sharp features, underscoring the darkness of his thoughts. The experimentations with the First Hokage's cells—carried out with Orochimaru's careful assistance—had proven successful, exceeding his expectations. Soon, when the flames of war spread across the nations, he would take further steps to enhance himself, making him more formidable still, though only he knew the full extent of these plans.

The tightly wound bandages over his right eye and arm served as both a testament to his hidden power and a veil for his intentions. They were emblems of his unyielding belief in Konoha's supremacy—no matter the cost. His left eye, sharp and calculating, scanned the latest report with the steely intensity of a man unaccustomed to hesitation. Though faint streaks of gray marbled his dark hair, he remained as relentless as ever. The slight lines on his face spoke to decades of ruthless decision-making, each one a choice few would dare to make.

The report before him detailed an impressive, if deeply troubling, feat: Haruto, a mere ten-year-old, had eliminated a seasoned Sand special jonin on his last mission. Danzo's jaw tightened, his eye narrowing as he digested the details. The boy had shown a staggering level of skill, precision, and ruthlessness that defied his age, and all without a bloodline limit to support him—no inherited advantage, only raw talent. Danzo found that fact the most unsettling of all.

At just ten, the boy was already a liability and, perhaps even worse, a potential threat. Danzo's instincts told him that Haruto might know—or at least suspect—his involvement in the assassination attempt during the chunin exams, as well as the hidden role he'd played in his grandmother's death. He had no proof the boy had uncovered his connection to either event, but Danzo trusted his instincts. They had always served him well. And as he studied the report further, a new concern gnawed at him: intelligence hinted that, The reports speculated that, if his trajectory continued—and it was a considerable if—the boy might one day be another Minato. Danzo's grip tightened on the report.

He cast a glance to the other documents on his desk, his mind shifting to the subtle machinations he had set in motion. His Root agents, disguised as Hidden Stone shinobi, had been sowing discord, instigating skirmishes, and strategically stoking the embers of conflict. War was close, and Danzo knew it would provide him with the perfect storm in which to execute his vision for Konoha—a village shaped and fortified by his hand alone.

His gaze hardened, and a glint of cold resolve surfaced in his eye. In the impending chaos of war, he would have the chance to eliminate any budding threats to his plans. Haruto would be one such threat to snuff out before it could ever grow too strong.