The rain in Amegakure fell in a perpetual, weeping drizzle, but the atmosphere within the central tower of the Akatsuki's primary hideout was one of a storm barely contained. The cavernous chamber, once dominated by the calm, oppressive presence of Pain's Six Paths, now felt hollow and charged with a volatile, directionless energy.
At the head of the stone table, Obito Uchiha sat, or rather, sprawled in the chair that had been Nagato's. He was no longer wearing the goofy, spiraling mask of 'Tobi.' Instead, his face was covered by a new, simpler mask—a smooth, white surface with a single, off-center black circle for his right eye, the edges cracked like a fractured moon. The orange swirl pattern of his Akatsuki cloak was the only splash of color in the dim room. His visible left eye, a stark black Sharingan, burned with a feverish, unstable light. The other members present could feel the manic intensity rolling off him in waves.
Around the table, the remnants of the organization gathered.
Kisame Hoshigaki leaned against the wall, Samehada propped beside him, his shark-like features unreadable but his eyes watchful. He had returned from the failed Three-Tails extraction with new respect for Kumo's power and a deep-seated wariness.
Konan stood apart, near the window overlooking the rain-slicked city. Her expression was carved from grief and cold stone. She had wrapped Nagato and Yahiko's bodies in paper flowers and sent them to a secret resting place. Her loyalty to the Akatsuki's original dream was ash, but she remained, a silent observer waiting to see what monster would rise from its grave.
Sasori's core—a simple, geometric purple orb resting in a floating, articulated puppet frame—hovered over a chair. His voice emerged as a synthesized, emotionless hum from the frame. "The structural integrity of my primary vessel is compromised by 87%. Procurement of high-quality materials for a new core body is required. The Fourth Kazekage puppet is unsalvageable."
Deidara, bandaged heavily across his chest and missing an arm below the elbow, scowled from his seat. Clay molds and detonation tags were spread before him as he worked one-handed on a new project. "Tch. My art was interrupted, un. That Hatake and the green-beast… and that Kumo witch with the sonic screams… they will pay, yeah."
The other positions—Itachi's, Kakuzu's, Hidan's—were conspicuously empty.
Obito's masked head tilted, the Sharingan focusing on each of them in turn.
Obito: Pain is dead. Nagato betrayed our cause, sacrificing himself to undo a fraction of the pain he caused. A pathetic, sentimental end.
His voice was different. Gone was the high-pitched, whimsical lilt of Tobi. This voice was deeper, ragged, threaded with a bitterness so profound it seemed to poison the air. It was the voice of a man whose last justifying lie had been stripped away, leaving only naked, spiteful purpose.
Obito: The Storm Coalition is real. It is unified. And at its heart are two anomalies who have disrupted decades of planning. Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha and his mate, Rias Uzumaki.
He spat the names like curses.
Kisame: The one who froze space itself. And the woman who grew a forest from a whisper. A troublesome pair, indeed.
Obito: 'Troublesome' is an understatement. They are system-level threats. They offer the world a solution that isn't a dream. A tangible, fortified reality built on cooperation and sovereignty. Every moment they exist, the Infinite Tsukuyomi seems less like a salvation and more like a… retreat.
He slammed a fist on the table, the stone cracking under the impact.
Obito: We cannot allow that narrative to take hold! The real world is a canvas of pain, of betrayal, of flawed connections that always fail! We must prove it! We must accelerate the plan.
Konan: (Without turning from the window) Accelerate it into what, Obito? A headlong charge into their fortified lattice? Nagato tried that. He is dead. The Gedo Statue has only two eyes partially lit.
Obito: Because we were playing a patient game! No more. We take control. We harvest the remaining beasts with speed and precision they cannot match. We do not confront their strongholds; we pluck the beasts from the shadows before they even know we're there.
Sasori: This requires intelligence we do not possess. The Coalition's sensor network, this 'Thunderhead,' reportedly has global reach. My infiltrators in the Land of Wind are inactive or destroyed. Conventional espionage is impossible.
A slow, unsettling chuckle emanated from behind Obito's mask.
Obito: Who said anything about 'conventional'?
From the shadows behind his chair, a figure oozed from the stone floor like black tar taking shape. Black Zetsu, his yellow eyes slitted, his form half-merged with the architecture.
Black Zetsu: Conventional is boring. And as our late leader demonstrated, brute force is… inefficient against the new paradigm. We must be smarter. More insidious.
Obito: The key is the beasts themselves. The Four, Five, and Six-Tails. Their jinchuriki are rogue, isolated, or poorly protected. They are the low-hanging fruit. We take them, and the Statue's power jumps exponentially. Then the Two and the Eight, cozy in their Kumo fortress, become the final obstacles before the Nine.
Deidara: And how do we find these rogues, un? My scouts are clay, not bloodhounds.
Obito: We have a new resource. One who understands the value of… alternative paths to power.
He gestured with a hand. A section of the wall rippled, not with Kamui, but with a different, organic distortion. A White Zetsu clone stepped through, but this one was different. Its face was more defined, bearing a sly, intelligent expression. It held a sealed scroll in its hand.
White Zetsu (Intelligent Clone): Delivery for the boss-man! From the sneaky snake in the grass. Said it was 'payment on account.'
Obito took the scroll. He broke the seal—a complex one that dissolved with a hiss of chakra that smelled of sage power and venom. He unrolled it. It was not paper, but a sheet of preserved serpent skin. Inscribed upon it, in Orochimaru's distinctive cursive, were coordinates, detailed movement patterns, psychological profiles, and chakra signatures for three individuals: Rōshi of the Four-Tails, Han of the Five-Tails, and Utakata of the Six-Tails. Attached to the bottom was a smaller, separate note.
Obito read the note first. His Sharingan narrowed.
Obito: …He has also provided a… 'revised methodology' for the Edo Tensei. Claims it offers greater stability and control with less-than-ideal genetic material. A 'show of good faith.'
Black Zetsu: The snake wishes to curry favor. He fears the storm gathering around Kumo. He seeks a powerful patron for his research, thinking us the stronger beast. A useful delusion.
Kisame: Can we trust it? Orochimaru's betrayals are legendary.
Obito: We don't need to trust him. We only need to use his gifts. The intelligence is too precise, too actionable to be false. He wants us to succeed, for now. As for the Edo Tensei…
He looked at the serpent skin scroll, then at Black Zetsu. A silent communication passed between them. Obito's eye gleamed with a desperate, fanatical light.
Obito: Our ultimate weapon has been waiting in the wings long enough. The world has forgotten true power. It's time to remind them. To remind him of the partnership he forged.
________________________________________
Deep within a hidden cavern network in the Land of Rivers, far from prying eyes or sensor nets, a different kind of preparation was underway.
The air was thick with the smell of formaldehyde, medicinal herbs, and ozone. This was one of Orochimaru's mobile, high-efficiency laboratories. The man himself stood over a central operating table, where Kabuto Yakushi, now bearing faint, purple Rinnegan-like markings around his eyes and a more serpentine pallor, worked with feverish dedication.
Before them, floating in separate amniotic tanks, were three distinct DNA samples, illuminated by a pale green light. One was a strand of coarse, red hair (Rōshi). Another was a fleck of keratin from a steam-release valve (Han). The third was a vial of iridescent bubble-fluid (Utakata).
Kabuto: The genetic samples are degraded, but sufficient for the tracking ritual. The intelligence packets are complete and have been dispatched via the Zetsu network. Obito will receive them.
Orochimaru: (A thin, satisfied smile on his lips) Excellent. Let the rabid dog chew on the bones we've thrown. His desperation makes him a wonderfully predictable tool.
He picked up a second scroll, this one made of a strange, metallic parchment. It was the 'revised Edo Tensei' technique Indra had provided as part of their deal—a method that used conceptual anchoring and chakra pattern stabilization to reduce the soul's resistance and the body's decay, even with suboptimal DNA.
Orochimaru: And this… this is the true masterpiece. Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha's mind is… breathtakingly elegant. He views soul manipulation not as an art, but as an engineering problem. His corrections to the impurities in my original Edo Tensei are… sublime. The control matrix is more efficient by a factor of five. The degradation rate is minimized.
Kabuto: Yet you gave it to Obito. To revive him.
Orochimaru: Of course. A test of the methodology on the most challenging subject possible. And what better way to gauge the Storm Coalition's upper limits than to unleash the ultimate challenge of the old world upon them? If Madara Uchiha, even in an imperfect Edo form, can push Indra and his allies to reveal their full capabilities… the data will be priceless.
He ran a long-nailed finger over the scroll.
Orochimaru: Furthermore, it binds Obito to us. He will believe he holds a unique advantage. He will not look for the flaws I have deliberately left in the technique—the subtle, high-frequency chakra pulse woven into the binding matrix that will allow for… external intervention, should it become necessary. Our deal with Indra is for post-war collaboration. Ensuring Obito's weapon has a hidden off-switch is simply prudent.
Kabuto adjusted his glasses, a fanatical gleam in his own eyes. "Then we are ready. The stage is set for the next act."
________________________________________
Back in Amegakure, in a sealed sub-chamber beneath the main hall, Obito prepared for blasphemy.
The room was circular, the floor inscribed with a massive, multi-layered fuinjutsu array that was a grotesque fusion of Uzumaki sealing principles, Otsutsuki-like symbols, and the new, streamlined patterns from Orochimaru's scroll. At the center of the array lay a single, precious relic: a clump of coarse, black hair, preserved in a fragment of ancient armor plating. The DNA of Madara Uchiha, scavenged decades ago from the Valley of the End.
Black Zetsu stood at the edge of the array, his form flickering. Konan had refused to attend, remaining above. Kisame and Deidara stood guard at the entrance. Sasori's core observed, recording.
Obito: Is it enough?
Black Zetsu: It is… marginal. The sample is old, degraded by time and the strange energies of that place. The new technique from the snake will help, but do not expect the Legendary Uchiha at the peak of his power. He will be… a reflection. A powerful, dangerous reflection, but a reflection nonetheless.
Obito: A reflection of Madara is worth a thousand contemporary shinobi. Begin.
Obito took his position at the 'call' point of the array. Black Zetsu merged with the floor at the 'anchor' point. Obito began channeling chakra, a torrent of dark, Uchiha-fueled energy mixed with the innate power of the Gedo Statue to which he was linked. The array ignited, lines of crimson and black fire crawling across the stone.
Obito: Edo Tensei!
The ritual was not like the chaotic eruptions of Hiruzen's battle. This was a slower, more insidious summoning. The ash and dust that gathered at the array's center did not explode outward but coalesced with a painful slowness, as if reality itself resisted this particular soul's return. The particles formed a humanoid shape, details etching themselves with crackling energy: long, wild black hair streaming from a stern, angular face; the iconic, fan-like armor; the sickle-and-chain weapon.
But there were visible flaws. The Edo body flickered at the edges, like a poorly maintained projection. The famous Uchiha complexion was pale grey, not the healthy tone of life. Most strikingly, the eyes that snapped open were not the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, nor the Rinnegan, but a baseline, three-tomoe Sharingan that glowed with unnatural, ghostly light.
Madara Uchiha took a breath that was not a breath, looked at his hands, flexed them, and then let his gaze sweep the chamber. It landed first on Obito, and a flicker of recognition, then profound disappointment, crossed his features. Then it moved to Black Zetsu, and his expression hardened into something unreadable.
Madara: (His voice was the echo of a landslide, deep, resonant, and heavy with absolute authority) This form… is an insult. A cheap parody. The Edo Tensei. How… mundane.
He took a step forward, the floor trembling slightly despite his intangible body. He focused on Black Zetsu.
Madara: And you. My will manifest. My… creation. Explain. How could you allow this? How could you allow him—
He jerked his head toward Obito.
Madara: —to reach such a pathetic, desperate state? To resort to dragging me back in this… diminished form? The plan was specific. The Eye of the Moon. You were to guide my successor, not let him flail like a drowning child.
Black Zetsu's form shifted, his voice a placating, oily whisper. "The world has changed, Madara-sama. Variables emerged that were not in our original projections. The plan has been… disrupted."
Madara: Disrupted? By what? The Senju are extinct. Hashirama is dust. The shinobi world is more fractured than ever. What variable could possibly—
Obito: (Stepping forward, his voice cracking with fury) Silence! You are a tool, Madara! A weapon I am now summoning! The world has changed! There is a new power, one that mocks your legacy and mine!
Madara's Sharingan swiveled to Obito, the contempt palpable. "You. The sentimental fool I pulled from the rubble. I gave you purpose. I gave you the truth of this world. And you have managed to bungle even a simple, century-long scheme."
Obito: Your 'truth' was built on a lie! Rin never loved me! Danzo manipulated everything! I was a pawn for Konoha's rot and for your grand delusion!
For the first time, a flicker of something besides contempt appeared in Madara's eyes: curiosity. He was a strategist first. Emotional outbursts were data.
Madara: Interesting. Psychological degradation. The enemy has targeted your core narrative and shattered it. A competent tactic. Who is this 'new power'?
Black Zetsu: They are the primary disruption. A shinobi of Kumo. Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha.
Madara went perfectly still. The name 'Indra' alone would have given him pause. The combination 'Uzumaki-Uchiha' was an impossibility in his historical memory.
Madara: …Uzumaki and Uchiha? A fusion? Explain.
Black Zetsu did so, in clipped, efficient terms. He described Indra's rise: surviving the Uchiha massacre, his sanctuary in Kumo, his inventions, his summons, his achievement of the Eternal Mangekyō through science, his alliance with the tailed beasts, his strategic unification of the Five Great Villages into the Storm Coalition. He left out any mention of Kaguya, Hagoromo, Ashura, or the true nature of the chakra reincarnation cycle.
Madara: (A low, rumbling chuckle that held no humor) An Uchiha… in Kumo. Building fortresses. Playing scientist. And he achieved the Eternal Mangekyō without theft? Without Hashirama's cells? Preposterous.
Obito: It is fact! He cured the blindness! He then used the same method to grant Sasuke Uchiha—Itachi's brother—the Eternal Mangekyō after Sasuke refused to take Itachi's eyes!
Madara's ghostly form flickered more violently. "Sasuke… killed Itachi?"
Black Zetsu: He did. And then, upon learning the truth of Danzo's manipulations, he went to Kumo. Indra provided him the 'scientific path.' He now possesses a stable Eternal Mangekyō and has returned to Konoha as a loyal shinobi of the new coalition.
Madara was silent for a long moment, processing this tectonic shift in the Uchiha paradigm. An Uchiha finding a path to power through another village's science, then returning to Konoha not as a rogue, but as a loyalist to a multi-village alliance? It defied every principle he had lived and died for.
Madara: And the Uzumaki woman? Rias?
Black Zetsu: She possesses a Wood Release that rivals, perhaps exceeds, Hashirama Senju's in its vitality and versatility. It is not a stolen bloodline. She… awakened it. Through means we do not fully understand. She is also the jinchuriki's staunchest ally and Indra's proclaimed equal.
At the mention of Wood Release on par with Hashirama's, Madara's interest sharpened from strategic to intensely personal. A ghost of his old, battle-hungry smirk touched his lips.
Madara: Wood Release… worthy of Hashirama. Now that is something. And this Indra… he is acknowledged by Airavat and Garuda?
This time, Obito answered, his voice dripping with venom. "He is their summoner. Or rather, their ally. They treat him as a sovereign equal."
A genuine shock, the first true surprise, crossed Madara's Edo features. Memories, centuries old, surfaced. The Valley of the End was not his only taste of defeat.
Madara: (His voice a whisper of recollection) The Eagle and the Elephant… I sought their power, long ago. After I controlled the Nine-Tails, I thought with its power and my eyes, I could force a pact. I found a way into one of their pocket dimensions… a realm of endless sky.
He paused, the ghostly Sharingan seeing a past battle.
Madara: Airavat… a mountain that walked. His mere presence warped gravity. Garuda's wings could slice through spacetime. They did not fight to kill. They fought to… educate. To humiliate. They healed the Nine-Tails just enough so our connection wouldn't kill me, then threw us out. They said we 'lacked the harmony' to be guests. To think they now ally with a half-breed Uchiha building a village… the world has gone mad.
He refocused on the present, his strategic mind reassembling the pieces. "So. A synthetic Uchiha prodigy allied with primordial beasts and a Wood Release user, leading a united shinobi world against us. And you have bungled the capture of the beasts, lost Nagato, and have only two partial eyes in the statue." He looked at Obito with withering scorn. "You are not the successor I hoped for."
Obito: (Shouting) I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU HOPED FOR! Your plan failed the moment it met a better idea! Now, you will serve my plan. We are capturing the Four, Five, and Six-Tails. Now. Tonight. You will lead the extraction teams. Your experience, even in this form, is needed to counter whatever rapid response the Coalition has.
Madara looked at the desperate man, then at Black Zetsu, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. A silent agreement passed between the ancient will and its manifestation. Use him. Complete the gathering.
Madara: (Sighing, a sound like grinding stone) Very well. A distraction from the indignity of this form. I will clean up your mess, boy. Show me the targets.
________________________________________
The captures were not battles; they were surgical ambushes, executed with a speed and brutality that bypassed the Coalition's early warning systems.
Location: The Smoking Mountains, Land of Earth.
Rōshi, the Four-Tails' jinchuriki, was a cantankerous old hermit meditating within a active caldera, drawing on the volcanic energy to supplement Son Gokū's power. He believed himself untouchable.
He never sensed the Kamui vortex that opened ten meters above him. From it, Madara Uchiha descended, not with fanfare, but with lethal efficiency. Before Rōshi could fully transform, Madara's sickle-and-chain, wrapped in black reception rods linked to the Gedo Statue, pierced the ground around him. A sealing array activated, not to extract, but to suppress.
Rōshi: Uchiha?! But you're—!
Madara: Dead? Unfortunately. Talkative? Not today.
Madara didn't use Susanoo, didn't use grand fireballs. He used the perfected, ruthless taijutsu of the Warring States period, combined with the unnatural strength and regeneration of the Edo body. He broke Rōshi's stance, immobilized him with chakra chains that erupted from the black rods, and then, as a White Zetsu clone emerged from the ground to act as a living anchor, Madara forced the initiation of the Sealing Technique: Phantom Dragons Nine Consuming Seals.
The entire process, from vortex opening to Rōshi and the Four-Tails being sucked into the distant Gedo Statue, took under ninety seconds. The third eye of the statue flickered open, glowing a steady, ominous red.
________________________________________
Location: A trading post on the border of the Land of Wind and Land of Rivers.
Han, the Five-Tails' jinchuriki, was a man of few words and immense physical power, his Steam Release a formidable defense. He was bartering for supplies when he felt a sudden, intense pressure.
Kisame Hoshigaki erupted from a water conduit in the well, Samehada already screaming with hunger. At the same moment, Deidara, riding a new C2 hawk high above, dropped a curtain of microscopic C1 spiders that attached to everything except Han, identifying him as the target via chakra signature.
Han: Akatsuki! You dare—!
Kisame: Water Release: Water Prison Shark Dance Technique!
A colossal sphere of water engulfed the trading post square. Han activated his steam, superheating the water, but Kisame simply absorbed the chakra-fueled heat with Samehada, growing stronger. Han tried to launch himself skyward, but Deidara's hawk dive-bombed him, not with an explosion, but with a net of sticky C2 clay that hardened on contact, trapping his limbs.
Deidara: Capture is an art too, un! Restraint and form!
Before Han could muster a full tailed beast transformation, black receiver rods shot from the shadows, piercing the clay net and his chakra points. The suppression was instantaneous. A White Zetsu anchor appeared. The sealing ritual began. The Gedo Statue's fourth eye ignited.
________________________________________
Location: A misty valley in the Land of Waterfalls.
Utakata, the most elusive of the three, was a melancholic wanderer who communed with his beast, Saiken, through the art of bubble-based ninjutsu. He was the most cautious, his senses attuned to deception.
He was brewing tea when his bubbles, scattered around his camp as sensors, began popping softly. Not from impact, but from a subtle, sonic frequency that resonated at their exact structural weakness.
Sasori's new core body—a sleek, humanoid puppet crafted from dark wood and salvaged Iron Sand, housing his core—stood at the edge of the clearing. It wasn't attacking. It was playing a small, flute-like instrument, emitting the precise frequency.
Utakata: Puppet… and sound? An unusual combination.
Sasori: (Voice synthesized from the puppet) Efficiency is the only aesthetic that matters. Your bubble matrix is elegant but predictable. A standing wave at 7.83 Hertz induces catastrophic resonance.
As Utakata's primary defense dissolved into harmless soapy mist, Obito stepped from a Kamui portal directly behind him. There was no banter, no grandiose speech. Only a single, Sharingan-enhanced genjutsu—a flash of Rin Nohara's smiling, lifeless face—that stabbed into Utakata's mind, fueled by Obito's own twisted, projected pain.
Utakata, a sensitive soul, gasped, his focus shattered for a critical second.
Obito: You're too late.
The black rods impaled him from below. The White Zetsu anchor emerged. The sealing ritual, cold and efficient, pulled the struggling Six-Tails from its host. The Gedo Statue's fifth eye blazed to life.
________________________________________
In the Akatsuki hideout, hours later, the mood was one of grim triumph.
The Gedo Statue, now in a deeper, more secure chamber, was a terrifying sight. Five of its nine eyes were fully open and glowing: One, Four, Five, Six. The second eye (Shukaku) and third (Isobu) were partially lit, flickering. The remaining four were dark, empty sockets.
Obito stared at the statue, his breathing ragged behind his mask. The rapid, successful captures were a balm to his desperation, a proof that power, decisively applied, could still win.
Madara's Edo form stood beside him, observing the statue with a critical eye.
Madara: The partial eyes are a problem. The chakra is unstable. It may affect the cohesion of the final form.
Black Zetsu: It is manageable. The primary energy threshold has been crossed. With five full eyes and two partials, the Statue's power is now sufficient to begin the final phases. The Two-Tails and Eight-Tails in Kumo are the next logical targets. Their chakra is pure, stable, and would solidify our position.
Obito: Kumo… the fortress. With Indra and Rias there, and the beasts themselves allegedly 'sovereign' and unextractable.
Madara: (A cold, calculating smile) Every fortress has a weakness. Often, it is the arrogance of those inside it. They believe their new paradigm makes them invincible. They have never faced true, overwhelming power. The kind that does not negotiate, does not build, only takes.
He looked at his flickering hands.
Madara: This form is an insult. But it can still wield the Susanoo. It can still strategize. And it remembers how to break wills. We do not storm the fortress. We make the fortress come to us. We force a conflict on ground of our choosing, where their technological advantages are neutralized.
Obito: How?
Madara: You have the Five-Tails' steam and the Six-Tails' acidic bubbles. I have the Four-Tails' lava and the One-Tails' sand. Kisame has immense water and chakra. Combine them. Not for a direct attack, but for a… geological event. Trigger a cataclysm in a neutral nation. One so devastating that the 'humanitarian' Storm Coalition must respond with its full strength, including its precious jinchuriki and their protectors. We draw out the Two and the Eight. We draw out him.
Obito's Sharingan gleamed. It was a plan of madness and scale worthy of the old legends. A plan that spoke of absolute dominion, not subtlety.
Obito: Where?
Madara: Somewhere symbolic. Somewhere it will hurt. The Land of Iron. The seat of the samurai, the 'neutral' judges who executed your puppet Danzo. Let us show them there is no neutrality. Only power. We turn their cherished order into chaos, and when the heroes rush in to save the day… we harvest them.
In the shadows, Black Zetsu smiled. The desperation was being channeled. The plan was accelerating beautifully. The pieces were moving toward the final, bloody convergence. And through it all, the secrets of the Ōtsutsuki, of Kaguya, of the true purpose of the Infinite Tsukuyomi, remained locked within him, the final key to be turned when the time was right.
System Notification (Coalition Thunderhead Network – Priority Alert): Anomalous chakra signatures detected in rapid succession at coordinates corresponding to last known locations of jinchuriki Rōshi, Han, and Utakata. Signatures extinguished immediately after detection. Pattern consistent with high-speed extraction/sealing.
Assessment: High probability targets R-4, H-5, U-6 have been captured by Akatsuki.
Gedo Statue Projected Power Level: Increased by 300%. Now at 5/9 eyes fully active, 2/9 partially active.
Threat Level Re-evaluated: CATACLYSMIC.
Directive: All Coalition forces to War Footing – Level 1. JSOC Commander Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha is advised. The enemy has made its move.
End of Chapter – 109.