Judgement

The charged silence that had fallen over the Senju mansion courtyard shattered like glass beneath the mounting tension between Radahn and Danzo.

The golden-robed giant's grip on Danzo's throat was relentless—an iron clamp forged in the calm fury of endless wars, suffocating the man who had spun webs of shadow and deceit for decades.

Around them, the gathered crowd reacted instantly, shock blooming into raw panic, disbelief, and outrage.

"What just happened?!" an ANBU barked, half-stepping forward, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the tense air, but his pace faltering under the invisible weight bearing down on the courtyard.

The aged Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, stepped forward with sudden speed belied by his years. His hands gripped the lacquered staff with a force that sang of deep anger and leadership burdened by countless sacrifices. Every muscle in his frame screamed command.

"Release him at once, Radahn!" His voice rang like a bell across the courtyard, unstoppable and final. The strength behind it made even the walls tremble, dust motes cascading from the eaves.

Danzo's breaths were ragged, a harsh rasp squeezed from clenched teeth. Eyes wide but flickering with terror, he barely managed to croak,

"S-save me…"

Minato, bent low on one knee, his heart pounding in desperate hope, implored beside Radahn. His tone was steady but bore the tremor of urgency.

"Please, Radahn-dono, Danzo-sama remains an important figure in the village. Let us look deeper into this matter before rash judgment. Please—reconsider, for Konoha's sake."

For a long suspended second, the courtyard seemed to hold its breath. Radahn's gaze flicked barely toward the pair—an exasperated glare sharper than any blade, carrying the promise of wrath beyond mortal comprehension.

"Save your cunningness for some other time," he said, voice low and chilling—each syllable carved from cold granite. 

"I'll deal with this filth myself."

A collective shudder passed through the ranks of shinobi, but before anyone could form a protest, an overwhelming pressure swept down upon the assembly—an invisible tsunami of force compressing the very fabric of the moment.

It was as if the air itself had turned molten, thick and leaden, sagging like a great stone atop the lungs of every living being present. An eerie silence fell—deafening in its suddenness, smothering every fragile sound.

The weakest shinobi nearest the mansion's wide stone steps crumpled instantly—a cascade of bodies folding to the ground, tightly clutching at their chests as if to keep the breath that betrayed betrayal.

Civilians—drawn by the growing commotion—stumbled backward, faces pale, wild with panic as unseen force tightened around their lungs. Hands darted to throats, eyes wide in mute screams, choking on invisible hands that pulled and suffocated.

Those nearer to Radahn, thought strong and steadfast, glanced around, faltering like brittle reeds caught in an oncoming storm.

One by one, they collapsed—helpless before the silent tempest.

The ground beneath their feet seemed unsteady, as if the earth itself quailed at the presence.

Even Kakashi—the embodiment of stoic resilience—staggered. \

His feet betrayed him, and he fell like a great tree struck by lightning, barely clinging to consciousness. His single visible eye fluttered weakly, the crimson glow swallowed by encroaching darkness.

Banished were all attempts at control. Every chakra network sputtered, flickered and died like a drowning candle. Fingers twitching, seals half-formed, flames poised to burst into life—their power fled in unison, severed at the root by an unseen force.

Minato and Hiruzen—warriors who had shaped the history of nations with their strength—were brought low together.

On rough-hewn stone cracked beneath the weight of events, they fell to their knees, gasping for breath as if struck by a thousand invisible blades. The agony was all-consuming.

Hiruzen's grip across the ancient staff tightened desperately, the lacquered wood straining under his trembling hands, faint cracks spider-webbing the surface as if the very symbol of his authority was about to shatter. Dust drifted through the stagnant light, the air around them growing heavier still.

Their breaths came short and ragged—air sucked away like sand through fingers.

Danzo, caught utterly within the colossus's iron grasp, could barely sustain consciousness. Eyes—once bright with endless cunning—now flickered with raw primal terror. His body quivered unconsciously, the subtle corruption bristling beneath his skin revealing its last, futile gasp of defense.

Suddenly, a spark flickered across his flesh—like lit embers in the night. Flecks of silver dust peeled from his skin, lifting as if woven of mist.

Danzo's lips parted in a scream—but the cry was swallowed before it could escape, a ragged, soundless gasp that echoed in the void between life and oblivion.

His flesh disintegrated from the crown of his head downward, evaporating into fragile dust-like motes, each minuscule fragment shimmering faintly in the dimming light before being lost to the ether.

The process accelerated steadily, Danzo's once formidable figure dissolving into a fading mirage—an unmaking as merciless as time itself.

Minato and Hiruzen remained rooted in horrified silence. An elder of the village—the shadow behind so many dark deeds—was no more. Vanished without trace, incinerated by a force beyond mortal reckoning.

The last faint sparkle disappeared.

The charged air lingered thick in the Senju mansion courtyard, but now not a single living soul remained standing.

Every shinobi, civilian, even the battle-hardened Minato and the venerable Hokage himself had been knocked unconscious beneath an invisible weight—Radahn's devastating pressure.

Only Radahn remained upright, colossal and unmoved. His golden eyes swept the motionless forms littering the grounds. Without a word or glance to anyone, he slowly lifted the crushing force suffocating the courtyard. The air lightened, sounds returned with painful abruptness—shallow breaths, faint groans—but no one stirred yet.

With the silence of a mountain unyielding to storms, Radahn turned away from the chaos. His every step back to the mansion echoed finality, measured and implacable. He stopped at the threshold, back to the sprawling courtyard filled with the fallen.

The heavy dusk folded around him, mingling with shadows bleeding from the garden outside the worn shoji.

His voice rung out—cold, commanding, and without nuance:

"I'll leave when the next sunlight hits."

In that instant, though no human now could see, a subtle ripple of recognition passed through the night air. Radahn's tone turned to a low murmur, one seemingly addressing the unseen thoughts of the village's greatest leader—

"Thinking of Trying to stop me? Be my guest."

Then, with a slow, deliberate step, he crossed the threshold and disappeared into the dark sanctuary of the Senju residence.

Far above, in the shadow-laden village, Hiruzen Sarutobi's unconscious form lay among the others. Yet deep within the Hokage's fading awareness, a grim contemplation stirred. He clutched his jaw, the weight of failure and impotent resolve pressing down. His mind, a turmoil of duty and regret, drifted to his closest ally.

"Hokage-sama," Minato's desperate whisper nudged at his fading consciousness.

But the old man did not respond. Instead, his gaze—unfocused, distant—rose toward the dark sky, awash with the cold and indifferent light of countless stars.

After long silence, in the dim corridor of thought, the Hokage's voice, rough and weary, broke through the haze.

"Leave it, Minato."

The tone was not forceful, but laden with exhaustion and surrender. "Danzo got what he deserved. I cannot dwell longer on this madness."

His eyes closed gently, conceding to the frailty of the moment and the futility of battle within shadows.

Then, with a faint, almost reluctant sigh, he added,

"Make sure this matter is never made public."

Minato bowed deeply in reverence and understanding. Without hesitation, he turned, motioning for Kakashi, and they departed swiftly down the village paths. The weight of secrecy fell heavy over them both.

Moments later, a squad of ANBU silently materialized near the scene, their movements fluid and precise as shadows cast by moonlight. They knelt by the bodies, cold and still, and heard the final command uttered by the Hokage before he slipped deeper into unconsciousness.

"Eliminate the witnesses of the incident."