When I opened my eyes, what lay before me was nothing short of absolute chaos.

  The once peaceful silence of my cottage had been violently shattered, replaced by a cacophony of incoherent screams filled with fear and panic. Towering figures rushed past me, their enormous forms eclipsing everything in sight, while buildings crumbled and fell around me like toys tossed carelessly aside. In that surreal moment, which stretched on for what felt like an eternity, I found myself frozen in the middle of a street, paralyzed by shock, oblivious to the very real danger of being crushed beneath their feet or buried under the rubble.

  Could this possibly be another dream?!

  It couldn't be—this was far too vivid.

  The screams pierced through the air, too raw, too real to be anything but a nightmarish reality.

  Just as this thought crossed my mind, a figure stumbled nearby, tripping and crashing down beside me. In their frantic attempt to brace for impact, their arm flailed out and struck me, sending me sprawling to the ground. Dazed from the sudden blow, I shook my head to clear the fog and was met with a horrifying sight—a woman and her daughter lay motionless in a pool of blood, crushed beneath the weight of collapsed debris. The woman's eyes were wide open, locked in an eternal gaze of terror, her expression forever etched with fear as she cradled her lifeless daughter in her arms.

  This was no dream; it was a waking nightmare that I could not escape.

  In an instant, I felt my body become weightless as if the very ground had vanished beneath my feet. Something—or perhaps someone—had snatched me, lifting me off the ground with an abruptness that left my insides scrambling. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the disorienting rush of movement that accompanied my sudden elevation. A wave of discontent rose from the depths of my belly, gnawing at me to puke. Desperate to maintain my composure, I subconsciously swallowed hard and forced it down.

  As I cautiously peeled my eyes open, the world around me came into focus, revealing a chaotic scene that sent shivers down my spine. I was surrounded by the frantic backs of people fleeing for their lives, their movements frantic and desperate as they scrambled away from a menacing threat that loomed just behind us. Parents clutched their children tightly to their chests, their faces etched with fear, desperately trying to navigate through the swirling mass of terrified souls. Others were caught in a state of panic, frantically searching for their loved ones amid the chaos, their cries mingling with the cacophony that filled the air.

  A whirlwind of screams and shouts erupted like sirens blaring throughout the night, each voice laced with terror and urgency. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable sense of dread, amplified by a horrifying roar that echoed through the streets—a sound unlike anything I had ever heard before.

  The roar was deafening, piercing through every conceivable space, causing the very ground to tremble beneath us as if it, too, was gripped by fear. It sent shockwaves through the crowd, and I watched in disbelief as everyone around me seemed to jitter and flinch, their bodies reacting instinctively to the overwhelming sound. Many people instinctively grabbed at their ears in a futile attempt to block out the roar, their faces contorted with anguish as they struggled against the auditory onslaught.

  Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, someone shouted, "Watch out!!"

  The warning barely had time to register before a thunderous crash erupted from the far right side of the street. The sound reverberated through the air, sending shockwaves of panic racing through the crowd as people dove for cover, desperate to escape the impending danger. The person who had me cradled in their arms instinctively pivoted in the direction of the noise, and I twisted my body to catch a glimpse of the unfolding disaster.

  At the heart of the crash site, a figure emerged, staggering out from the debris with an air of resilience amidst the destruction. He was a striking man, with spiky blonde hair that seemed to catch the light, and piercing blue eyes that shone with intensity. He wore a long, flowing white coat adorned with fiery red flame-like patterns swirling at the hem, paired with a high collar that gave him an almost regal appearance. As he turned to face us, I caught sight of a metal headband engraved with a symbol I didn't recognize. But, I suddenly recalled that Grandpa had something similar.

  "Go!!" He shouted, his voice cutting through the din with an urgent command. His blue eyes were wide with fear—not for his injuries, but for the safety of the people around him. "Evacuate to the tunnels immediately!!"

  Before I could even understand what he was saying, a jarring flash pierced through my mind like a bolt of lightning. Closing my eyes, in my mind, I saw a massive claw, sharp and menacing, plunging right through him, staining his pristine white coat with deep crimson. I saw his bruised, trembling hand reaching out toward the small, fragile grasp of a newborn baby, yearning to bridge the gap between them. But just as he was about to make contact, his hand slipped from my vision, leaving the baby alone, reaching helplessly for what should have been—a connection that would never be fulfilled.

  When I opened my eyes, that man was already gone and I was once again rushed forward. I tried to look back but found it impossible.

  That man...

  He's going to die.

  After what felt like an eternity—each second stretching out into a painful infinity—I was finally brought to a slow stop.

  Before me stood a family, their faces etched with the same desperation as they searched the throng of panicked people. The father, with a stern demeanor and dark hair that framed his face, appeared like a sentinel amidst the chaos. Beside him, the mother radiated a different kind of strength, her beautiful dark hair cascading down to her shoulders as she clutched the bundle of a newborn baby tightly to her chest, protecting the fragile life as if it were the last flicker of hope in a darkened world.

  I could feel the person who had been carrying me sigh deeply, their body relaxing with a sense of relief that washed over them like a calming tide. It was as if they had finally found a moment of solace amid the tumultuous storm surrounding us.

  Then, the mother's gaze darted around, her eyes wide and searching, until they landed in my direction. In an instant, the fear that had clouded her expression melted away, replaced by a profound sense of relief that radiated from her like a beacon. She immediately called out, her voice rising above the chaos, but the distance and the cacophony of shouts rendered her words indistinguishable to my ears.

  However, the emotion in her voice was unmistakable, a blend of anxiety and hope that reached deep into my core. Her urgent shout caught the attention of the stern-looking father, who spun around with a look of concern carved into his features. When he saw what she was pointing at—relief flooded his face, transforming his stern expression into one of gratitude and determination. He gestured frantically to the person holding me, urging them to come closer—to the safety of their presence.

  Without a moment to lose, I was rushed toward this family.

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  "We have to evacuate to the tunnels!" The stern father shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. He gathered his family into his broad, protective embrace, wrapping his arms around them as if to shield them from the surrounding horrors. With determination, he began pushing everyone forward, urging them away from the impending danger.

  In that fleeting moment, something within me shifted. For reasons I couldn't quite understand, I felt as if the chaos around me had faded into the background, and all that mattered was the invisible thread of connection that this family had that bound them together in this frightening ordeal. Here was a family, a unit, desperately clinging to one another amidst the madness, and I was temporarily part of something that I had yearned for.

  But, that fragile sense of security was shattered in an instant. A terrifying roar erupted from somewhere in the distance, shaking the very earth beneath us. The ground trembled violently, and before I could comprehend what was happening, a devastating blast of power exploded in the far distance. The sound was deafening, a monstrous cacophony that reverberated through the air like an ominous warning.

  In the aftermath of the explosion, shockwaves of destruction rippled outward, wreaking havoc on everything in their path. The force was so powerful that it forcibly ripped me away from the arms of safety that had been my only sanctuary.

  I was sent tumbling down to the ground as people dove and ducked down to shield themselves from the shockwaves.

  When it had died down, I glanced up to find the family that I once felt something with was pressing onward without me.

  Is this the end for me?

  Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as a familiar sight unfolded before me. In my short life, I had only ever witnessed the haunting pain of being ignored and left behind, and now it felt as though the weight of that loneliness was crashing down on me again. Unfortunately, this time my grandpa wasn't there to pick me up and lead me home like he always does.

  Despite this terrible night, my fears once again crept up on me and just as I felt the last remnants of hope begin to fade, I caught sight of a small figure breaking free from the protective embrace of his stern father.

  It was a little boy, around my age, and in that moment, recognition surged through me. This was the very boy who had scooped me up earlier, who had carried me through the chaos until I was torn from his arms. He was my unexpected savior.

  My eyes were glued to this brave little boy as I watched him prepare to run back toward me, determination marked every line of his young face. That was when I recognized him. My old friend. Although, his eyes were not blood-red like those in my dreams, I could never mistake them for anything else.

  With a burst of energy, he dashed back toward me, his movements astonishing and swift, as he deftly dodged falling debris that rained down around us. It was as if he was dancing through the chaos, leaping from one side to the other with an agility that defied belief. I marveled at how a child his age could possess such extraordinary skills.

  As he closed the distance between us, my heart soared with a mixture of admiration and hope. This small boy, seemingly so fragile, was charging headfirst into danger, defying the odds to reach me.

  Before I knew it, the boy had me safely back in his arms and had rejoined his family in mere seconds.

  ~~~

  At the edge of the village, five evaluation tunnels yawned open, leading deep into the earth's embrace.

  As we approached, my heart sank at the sight before us. Lines of people snaked outside the tunnels, their faces a tapestry of fear and concern. I could see the weight of anxiety on every expression, eyes wide with terror as they clung to one another for support. Many were injured in varying degrees; their wounds were raw and visible, and the air was thick with their cries for lost loved ones, echoing the despair that enveloped us all.

  Yet, amid this overwhelming tragedy, something remarkable caught my attention. A group of individuals donned in bright green vests moved through the crowd, their demeanor calm and focused. They stood in stark contrast to the chaos; their purpose was clear as they worked diligently to protect and guide the frightened citizens. With practiced ease, they directed people forward, ensuring that the flow remained civil and orderly even as panic threatened to erupt around them.

  We quickly maneuvered into the nearest line, our place secured as we waited for our turn to enter the sanctuary of the tunnel. In a matter of minutes, we were the second group to enter, the boy cradling me in his arms turned his body to look back for the first time since we had joined the line. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I followed his gaze. What lay before us was a scene plucked straight from my darkest nightmares.

  Looming over the village was a colossal fox, its form both magnificent and terrifying, adorned with nine long, swaying tails that danced through the air like serpents in a hypnotic rhythm. The tails whipped and swiped, creating a blur of motion as the creature shifted and leaped, seemingly engaged in a furious battle against an unseen enemy. The ground trembled beneath its weight, and I could sense the raw power emanating from the beast, a force of nature that felt both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling.

  The boy turned back towards the tunnel and followed closely behind his parents, and I could see no more of the terror of that monstrous fox.

  At a steady pace, we moved forward in line, descending the stairs into a long, dimly lit hallway. The air was heavy with a mix of anxiety and hope, a discernible tension hung between the rattling walls. Along both sides of the hallway, laid dozens of open doors which led into large rooms teeming with people. Their faces were a collage of emotions—fear, relief, and the weariness of a long night.

  We navigated our way to the nearest half-occupied room and slipped inside, joining the throngs of others seeking refuge from the chaos above. The space was bustling with activity, but a sense of order seemed to prevail as volunteers and officials guided those in need.

  Suddenly, a voice pierced through the racket: "Fugaku!"

  The stern father's ears perked up, and he raised his head, scanning the room until his gaze landed on a figure that I assumed must be a relative, given the familiarity in their exchange. In an instant, they embraced a moment of connection amid the uncertainty and began to exchange hurried words, their relief palpable in the air.

  "Fugaku! Mikoto!"

  The names rang out again, and I watched as the parents—Fugaku and Mikoto—spun around to face the source of the call. Two elderly figures struggled to make their way toward them, their faces filled with concern. The elderly woman, her eyes brimming with tears, broke into a smile of pure joy. Her heart soared, especially when she saw the precious bundle that Mikoto held so tenderly in her arms.

  With a sigh of relief, the elderly man engulfed Fugaku in a warm embrace, their connection forged by shared worries and the weight of their experiences. They exchanged a few hushed words, their expressions a mixture of gratitude and urgency as if to catch up on all that had transpired in the chaos.

  Then, the elderly woman shifted her tearful gaze to the boy beside his mother, her eyes sparkling with relief. She knelt at his eye level, the warmth of her presence radiating like a comforting beacon. "Thank goodness you're all okay," she said, her voice soft and filled with genuine affection. She enveloped him in a gentle embrace as if she could shield him from the horrors they had just escaped.

  At that moment, a sense of safety enveloped me as I witnessed the love that bound this family together. It was a powerful reminder that even in the darkest of times, the bonds of family could provide solace and strength. Despite not understanding my situation, I missed my grandpa dearly and I wanted nothing but to tell him that I love him.

  "What is this?" the elderly woman exclaimed, her voice a mixture of surprise and disbelief. Her eyes widened in astonishment, mirroring my own shock as I realized that her gaze was locked on me. "Whiskers?!"

  In an instant, she scooped me up into her arms, cradling me against her chest as if I were the most precious treasure in the world. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks, and she began to rub her face against mine, her skin warm and soft. I could feel the wetness of her tears mingling with my fur as they fell, a strange and overwhelming sensation that filled me with confusion.

  Whiskers?!

  The name echoed in my mind as I came to a realization. Struggling against the elderly woman's embrace, I raise my hands toward my eyes. They were paws and I was covered in fur! The truth hit me like a boulder: all this time, I had been Whiskers, a cat.

  Somehow, I had managed to transform. It all made sense now—the gigantic people around me, the enormous buildings, the chaos that seemed to engulf the world.

  But even as the pieces fell into place, one question loomed large: how had I gone from my cozy abode to this nightmarish reality?

  "Thank you for saving my dear, Whiskers, Itachi."

  At the mention of this name, something jolted me back to the present, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over me. For some unknown reasons, I felt like I had known this name for all my life at the first sound of it being spoken, I knew who he was in the depth of my soul, despite not understanding.

  Stunned, I turned my head, finally able to see the boy who had carried me through the madness with clarity for the first time. He stood there, a figure of quiet strength and determination. His straight, dark hair framed his face in layered bangs, and though his large black eyes held a youthful innocence, they sparkled with a curious wisdom that belied his age. Dressed in a high-collared, deep navy-blue cloak—he exuded an air of confidence and kindness that was impossible to ignore.

  "You don't have to thank me," he said softly, his voice warm and gentle, just as I knew it to be. "I just did what I had to."

  The elderly woman smiled tenderly, placing a hand on the boy's small shoulder. "Nonetheless, I'm grateful that everyone from the Uchiha clan managed to make it here safely. We are truly thankful that all is well inside the tunnels."

  My heart raced as the truth slowly unfurled before me.

  My old friend—so this was your name.

  Itachi Uchiha.

  At that moment, I felt an unbreakable bond with this boy, a connection woven through something that I had yet to understand.

  POOF!

  The Whiskers that was just in the elderly woman's arms poofed out of existence as everyone turned to see that the cat was gone as if it were never there.