"Wake up!"
As Mukade's hands completed the final sequence of seals, the air around the wooden coffin seemed to crackle with supernatural energy. The very fabric of reality bent and twisted as the boundary between life and death was forcibly breached, and suddenly, the figure within the coffin stirred with unmistakable purpose.
Uchiha Madara's head snapped upward with mechanical precision, his previously vacant eye sockets now blazing with an inner fire that spoke of consciousness returned. The resurrection was not gentle—it was violent, immediate, and absolute. Where moments before there had been only empty flesh animated by foreign chakra, now there was genuine will, genuine intelligence, and most terrifyingly, genuine power.
Those eyes, which had been nothing more than hollow shells just seconds before, suddenly became filled with a spirit that seemed to burn with the accumulated fury of decades spent in the realm of the dead. Madara's consciousness flooded back into his reanimated form like a tsunami of pure will, overwhelming the artificial constraints of the Impure World Reincarnation technique.
For a moment, the legendary Uchiha simply paused, his expression shifting through a complex series of emotions as he processed his current state. His hand rose slowly, fingers flexing as he examined the pale, crack-marked skin that covered what had once been his living body.
"This feeling... this is not natural reincarnation," he muttered, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had experienced death and found it wanting. The tone was contemplative, almost philosophical, as if he were analyzing a particularly interesting scientific phenomenon rather than confronting his own resurrection.
Madara moved forward with deliberate slowness, each step calculated and precise. When he reached the edge of the coffin, he placed one hand on its rim and lifted himself out with fluid grace that belied the supernatural nature of his current existence. As he emerged fully into view, both Zetsu and Mukade were struck by the sheer presence he commanded—even in death, even as a reanimated corpse, Uchiha Madara radiated an aura of absolute authority.
"Master Madara," Zetsu said, his voice suddenly taking on a tone of genuine respect that was rarely heard from the ancient being. The change in demeanor was striking—where before Zetsu had spoken to everyone with casual indifference, now there was something approaching reverence in his words.
Madara initially ignored the plant-like creature, his attention focusing instead on Mukade with laser-like intensity. When those legendary eyes settled on the younger man, Mukade felt something deep within his chest clench with involuntary fear. It was as if every secret he had ever kept, every weakness he had ever harbored, was being laid bare under that penetrating stare.
Mukade had never expected that he would find himself unable to meet the gaze of a dead man—a corpse that he himself had summoned through the Impure World Reincarnation technique. The irony was not lost on him, but the reality of Madara's presence was far more overwhelming than any theoretical consideration. What kind of incredible force was this, that it could inspire such primal terror even when filtered through the constraints of resurrection jutsu?
"You summoned me with the Impure World Reincarnation?" Madara asked, his arms folding across his chest in a gesture that somehow managed to be both casual and deeply intimidating. His voice carried no particular emotion—neither gratitude nor anger—just the flat certainty of someone accustomed to having his questions answered immediately and completely.
"Yes..." Mukade replied, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and trepidation. The single word seemed to carry the weight of years of preparation and research, countless experiments and failures that had led to this moment of triumph.
"How did things become like this, Nagato..." Madara's expression shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as he considered the implications of his current situation. The question wasn't directed at anyone in particular—it was more of an internal monologue, the musings of someone trying to piece together the events that had transpired during his absence.
At that moment, his supernatural perception—enhanced beyond mortal limits by both his Uchiha heritage and the unique properties of the Impure World Reincarnation—quickly identified several distinct chakra signatures emanating from the stone mountains ahead. The readings were familiar yet troubling, suggesting a confrontation of significant magnitude.
His expression changed subtly as he processed this information, and White Zetsu, ever observant, immediately stepped forward with the intention of providing a detailed explanation of recent events.
However, before the creature could speak, Madara suddenly reached out and placed his hand directly on Zetsu's head. The contact was not gentle—it was the touch of someone accustomed to taking what he needed without asking permission.
"Don't bother," Madara said, his tone carrying the casual dismissal of someone who had never learned to value the autonomy of others. "Let me see what happened during this time."
As he spoke, Madara's eyes flickered toward Mukade with calculating precision. Their plan—the Moon's Eye Plan that would reshape the world according to his vision—involved numerous complex elements and carefully orchestrated events. He wasn't entirely certain how much the young man standing before him knew about these deeper machinations, and caution demanded that he avoid revealing sensitive information unnecessarily.
Madara closed his eyes, and the world around him seemed to fall into perfect silence. For several long seconds, he remained motionless, his consciousness diving deep into Zetsu's accumulated memories. The process was not gentle—it was a violent ransacking of stored information, a systematic pillaging of every relevant detail.
When Madara finally opened his eyes again, the expression on his face had transformed into something far more serious and contemplative. The casual indifference was gone, replaced by the focused intensity of someone who had just received deeply troubling news.
"Namikaze Minato," he said slowly, each syllable carefully enunciated. "This boy who doesn't belong to any established clan in Konoha can actually accomplish this..."
The words carried a note of genuine surprise mixed with something that might have been respect. Through Zetsu's memories, Madara had witnessed the complete story of what had transpired in the ninja world following his death. The tale was both fascinating and deeply concerning.
Obito and Nagato had employed numerous strategies and launched three separate major attacks against Konoha, yet they had been decisively defeated by Minato each time. Obito had been forced to use Izanami to escape certain death, while Nagato, despite gathering the power of five Tailed Beasts, had still fallen short of victory. The pattern was clear and deeply troubling—this Fourth Hokage represented a level of threat that their original calculations had failed to account for.
In order to ensure that their carefully laid plans would not be completely destroyed, Zetsu had secretly sought out the young man called Mukade and convinced him to perform the Impure World Reincarnation. It was a desperate gambit, but one that had become necessary in the face of Minato's overwhelming effectiveness.
The realization was both humbling and infuriating—his grand design, decades in the making, had nearly been ruined by a single individual who had barely been a factor during Madara's original lifetime.
"You did well," Madara said, turning to regard Zetsu with something approaching approval. The praise was rare and valuable, coming from someone who had little patience for failure or inadequacy.
Zetsu nodded humbly, understanding the significance of receiving such acknowledgment from his master. However, Madara's attention had already shifted to Mukade, his eyes once again taking on that penetrating quality that seemed to strip away all pretense and deception.
"What is your real purpose?" Madara asked, his voice carrying the weight of someone who expected complete honesty and would accept nothing less.
"Of course I want to gain powerful strength," Mukade replied, his eyes blazing with ambition and determination. "The Konoha led by that man destroyed everything that Orochimaru had built."
The admission carried personal weight that was immediately apparent to Madara. This wasn't just about power for its own sake—this was about revenge, about settling old scores and reclaiming what had been lost.
"And I want to witness something far stronger than anything this world has seen," Mukade continued, his voice growing more intense with each word.
"Is that all..." Madara's eyes narrowed as he considered Mukade's motivations and capabilities. While the young man might appear somewhat cowardly on the surface, it was no simple task to inherit Orochimaru's research results and create the enhanced body he now possessed. Such achievements required intelligence, determination, and a certain ruthless pragmatism that Madara could respect.
"Even if you can resurrect me through the Impure World Reincarnation," Madara said with clinical detachment, "it's impossible for you to defeat the current Minato Namikaze with your level of control over my power."
The statement was delivered without malice or condescension—it was simply a statement of fact, the kind of brutal honesty that Madara applied to all tactical assessments.
"Of course," Mukade responded, his voice carrying a note of anticipation that was almost electric. "What I want to witness is the legendary Uchiha Madara exerting his full strength, so naturally I have no intention of manipulating you to fight the Fourth Hokage."
The admission was both smart and revealing. Mukade understood the limitations of the Impure World Reincarnation when applied to someone of Madara's caliber, and he was wise enough to recognize that attempting to control such a figure would be both futile and counterproductive.
"Then as you wish," Madara said, his eyes suddenly becoming sharp and focused with an intensity that made the air around him seem to crackle with potential energy.
Zetsu remained silent, but his mind was racing with questions and concerns. What exactly was Madara planning? Given that Mukade was the one performing the Impure World Reincarnation, shouldn't he theoretically be able to exercise some level of control over the resurrected legend?
"Black Zetsu," Madara said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade, "I'll leave the rest to you."
As he spoke, Madara's eyes took on a distinctly fiery quality, as if some inner flame had been kindled by the prospect of what was to come.
"It's been far too long since I've had a serious battle since my fight with Hashirama," he continued, his voice carrying a note of genuine excitement that was almost childlike in its enthusiasm.
"Namikaze Minato," he said, the name rolling off his tongue like a promise, "please don't disappoint me..."
Swish!
Without further ceremony, Madara leaped upward with explosive force, landing gracefully on a ledge halfway up the stone mountain that stood before them. But instead of continuing to climb in a conventional manner, something extraordinary happened—just as the momentum of his jump was about to dissipate, he simply began to float in mid-air, defying gravity with casual disregard for the laws of physics.
Swoosh!
As he shot through the mountain peaks with lightning speed, moving like a comet through the rocky landscape, his gray eyes suddenly shifted and transformed. The irises blazed crimson as the legendary Sharingan activated, and immediately, three black tomoe appeared and linked together in perfect symmetry.
After Madara's departure, Zetsu also began to gradually sink into the ground, his form dissolving into the earth as if he had never existed at all. The ability to move through solid matter was one of his most useful capabilities, allowing him to observe and manipulate events from the shadows without detection.
Meanwhile, Mukade's hands moved through another complex series of seals, his movements becoming more confident and precise with each technique he performed.
"Bang!"
The ground in front of him cracked and split once again, and another wooden coffin emerged from the depths of the earth. The sight was both impressive and ominous—whoever Mukade was planning to resurrect next was clearly intended to serve as additional support for whatever was about to unfold.
...
In the devastated landscape of the stone mountains, Minato and Kushina found themselves in an increasingly complicated situation. Despite Nagato's obvious exhaustion and the clear futility of continued resistance, the Rinnegan wielder refused to surrender. His pride and determination drove him to continue launching attacks using his gravity and repulsion abilities, though the techniques lacked the overwhelming power they had possessed earlier in the battle.
Each of Nagato's attacks was met with effortless counter-techniques from Minato, who seemed to anticipate and neutralize every assault with minimal effort. The disparity in their current capabilities was becoming more apparent with each exchange, yet Nagato's stubborn refusal to accept defeat was creating an increasingly tense standoff.
"Nagato, stop this now!" Konan's voice finally cracked with desperation and emotional exhaustion. She had watched her oldest friend push himself beyond all reasonable limits, and she could no longer bear to witness his continued self-destruction.
The sound of her plea seemed to cut through Nagato's determination, and his hands finally stopped moving through the attack seals he had been preparing. For a moment, silence fell over the battlefield, broken only by the sound of labored breathing and the distant rumble of settling debris.
Kushina and Minato exchanged glances, both feeling a flicker of hope that this nightmare might finally be coming to an end. The prospect of resolving the conflict without further bloodshed was enormously appealing, especially given their shared history with both opponents.
However, before the smiles of relief could fully form on their faces, both Minato and Kushina simultaneously sensed something that made their blood run cold. An extremely powerful chakra signature was approaching their position with frightening speed, its intensity far exceeding anything they had encountered during the current battle.
"Who is it?" Minato's expression darkened immediately, his head snapping toward the direction from which the chakra was emanating. His enhanced perception, boosted by both Sage Mode and the Nine-Tails' chakra, was screaming warnings about the magnitude of the approaching threat.
"This chakra contains the same aura I sensed from White Zetsu," Kushina said, her brow furrowing with concentration and growing alarm, "but it's much, much stronger!"
The implications of her observation were staggering. If this new threat was connected to the mysterious Zetsu creature they had detected earlier, then they were potentially facing an enemy network far more extensive and dangerous than they had originally suspected.
"Rumble!"
At that moment, something impossible began to happen in the sky above them. The clouds that had been scattered across the heavens suddenly began to move and gather, drawn together by some kind of immense gravitational force that defied all natural explanation. Within seconds, the entire sky had transformed from partially cloudy to completely overcast.
The darkness that fell over them was complete and oppressive, as if the very sun had been blocked out by some cosmic phenomenon. Minato, Kushina, Nagato, and Konan all raised their heads in unison, their eyes filled with shock and growing terror as they witnessed something that challenged their understanding of what was possible.
"Bang!"
A muffled sound echoed from somewhere above the cloud layer, carrying a resonance that seemed to vibrate through the very air around them. The sound was massive, suggesting the presence of something enormous moving through the upper atmosphere.
As the four ninja continued to stare upward, they began to see the shadow of some gigantic object moving beyond the clouds. The shadow was so large that it seemed to blot out entire sections of the sky, and its shape was unmistakably solid and substantial.
Then, with a sound like the world itself being torn apart, the clouds were ripped asunder, and the true nature of the threat became horrifyingly clear.
It was a meteorite—but not just any meteorite. This was a mountain-sized chunk of rock and metal that fell from the heavens with the inevitability of divine judgment. The massive object plummeted toward them with gathering speed, its surface glowing with the heat of atmospheric entry.
"What's happening? A meteorite just suddenly fell!" Konan's voice carried a note of disbelief that bordered on hysteria. The sight was so far beyond normal experience that her mind struggled to process what she was witnessing.
Nagato, despite his exhausted state, immediately shook his head with grim certainty. "This is not a natural phenomenon," he said, his voice carrying the authority of someone who understood the true scope of ninja techniques. "This is artificial—someone's jutsu!"
"What!?" Both Kushina and Konan's voices rose in perfect unison, their faces pale with shock and disbelief. The idea that any individual could command forces of such magnitude was almost impossible to accept.
Minato's enhanced perception through natural energy confirmed Nagato's assessment. The meteorite was indeed being controlled by human will, guided by chakra techniques that operated on a scale beyond normal comprehension.
"Let's go," Minato said grimly, exchanging a meaningful glance with Kushina. The time for hesitation or negotiation had passed—survival now took priority over all other considerations.
In the blink of an eye, both Minato and Kushina appeared directly in front of Nagato and Konan, their speed enhanced by the urgency of the approaching catastrophe.
"I have lost this battle," Nagato said, his voice carrying a note of final acceptance, "but I will not accept your help."
Despite everything that had transpired, despite the obvious futility of pride in the face of annihilation, Nagato's voice remained firm and uncompromising. He turned to look at Konan with eyes that carried deep affection and regret.
"But please take her away," he continued, his gaze settling on his oldest friend with profound tenderness.
"In my current state, I'm not sure I can protect you," Nagato admitted, his voice carrying the pain of someone forced to acknowledge his own limitations.
"But don't worry—I won't die that easily!" The declaration carried a note of the old fire that had once driven him to attempt to change the world through force.
Konan's eyes filled with emotional turmoil as she processed his words, and she shook her head with the same stubborn determination that had defined their relationship for decades.
"Since you have decided not to accept his help," she said, her voice growing stronger with each word, "I will do the same as you!"
The look in her eyes was equally unshakeable, reflecting a loyalty that transcended rational consideration of survival odds.
Seeing these two individuals being so impossibly stubborn even in the face of certain death, and with the massive meteorite continuing its inexorable descent toward them, Minato's expression shifted to one of frustrated determination.
Without further warning, a brilliant chakra aura erupted around his body, and pure blue energy condensed into the shape of massive claws that extended from his hands.
Swish!
Before either Nagato or Konan could react or protest, the chakra claws landed on their shoulders with gentle but irresistible force.
In the next instant, all four figures disappeared completely from beneath the falling meteorite, leaving behind only empty space where they had been standing moments before. The mountain-sized chunk of rock continued its devastating descent toward what was now an abandoned battlefield, carrying enough force to reshape the entire landscape when it finally made impact.
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