The cavern echoed with the faint sound of dripping water. At its center loomed the Gedo Statue, massive and lifeless, its shadow swallowing the floor.
One by one, chakra projections flared into being. The Akatsuki gathered — not all members yet, but the core that mattered.
At the front, Pain stood unmoving, Rinnegan radiating silent authority. Konan's paper wings folded neatly at his side, her face calm and unreadable. Across the circle, phantom flames shaped themselves into Kakuzu's stitched figure, Sasori's puppet form, and Hidan, who leaned lazily on his scythe.
A tall, pale man with serpentine features appeared too, his golden eyes gleaming hungrily in the dim. Orochimaru. His tongue briefly slid across his lips as his gaze found Itachi.
"Report," Pain commanded. His voice was iron, absolute.
Konan stepped forward, her expression cool. "Jūzō Biwa has fallen."
A pause. Even the shadows seemed to tighten.
"Cause of death?" Kakuzu's gravelly voice rasped from his projection.
Konan's tone did not waver. "The Three-Tails' jinchūriki."
That drew interest. Sasori's head tilted slightly. Hidan gave a short laugh. "Hah. Figures. Only a Jinchūriki would crush someone like Jūzō. And here I thought that loudmouth would last longer."
Orochimaru chuckled, low and unsettling. His eyes flicked toward Itachi, lingering like a predator. "Mm… fascinating. To think even Jūzō Biwa couldn't escape his fate. And yet—" his lips curved, almost amused— "some shinobi always survive encounters that should have killed them. Curious, isn't it, Itachi-kun?"
Itachi's face remained unreadable. He neither flinched nor responded. Silence was his weapon, and Orochimaru's words slid off him like venom that found no wound.
Pain's eyes fixed on Konan. "Details."
This time, Itachi stepped forward, cloak brushing stone. His face was expressionless, his voice calm and precise.
"Over thirty ANBU intercepted us. They are dead. None survived."
The cave grew heavier. Even through distant chakra projections, the atmosphere shifted.
Itachi continued, unblinking. "Jūzō engaged the jinchūriki. His Executioner's Blade was destroyed. He was fatally wounded by the remnants of his own weapon during the clash. Before Yagura could finish him, I intervened."
Pain's gaze sharpened. "You defeated the Three-Tails' host?"
"He was subdued. Unconscious. Alive."
Konan's eyes flickered to him. She said softly, but with weight: "Had I not called the retreat, Yagura would have been consumed entirely."
Sasori's puppet eyes glinted. "Consumed…? By what?"
Itachi did not answer.
Orochimaru's lips curved in a thin, knowing smile. His voice carried a faint hiss. "You know our leader had great plans for the jinchuruki, aren't there, Itachi-kun?"
The silence that followed was sharper than blades.
Pain studied him, then spoke, voice resonating with quiet finality. "Jūzō is lost. His blade is gone. The Akatsuki will find another to fill his place. What matters is this: our mission succeeded. The Three-Tails' jinchūriki has revealed his strength — and his limits."
The Rinnegan swirled with cold purpose.
"The plan moves forward."
One by one, the projections flickered out. Kakuzu's grumble vanished into static. Hidan's mutter about "more sacrifices for Jashin" dissolved. Sasori faded without a sound.
Orochimaru lingered a moment longer, his serpentine eyes fixed on Itachi, the smile never leaving his lips. Then his projection too vanished, leaving only the faint echo of his hunger behind.
At last, only Konan and Pain remained by the statue.
Konan's paper wings shifted faintly. "He held back."
Pain's gaze lingered on the place where Itachi's image had been. "Yes. And still… he left a Jinchūriki broken. He's a mystery"
The silence that followed was deeper than stone.
---
### In the Hidden Dark
Far from the cave, deeper than even Akatsuki's reach, shadows whispered among themselves.
A tall figure stood cloaked, mask spiraled around a single glowing eye. Madara.
At his feet, a strange creature sprouted from the ground — half black, half white, its mismatched voice carrying a mocking edge. Zetsu.
White Zetsu chuckled. "Heheh… thirty ANBU, cut down like they were nothing. I mean—come on! These weren't bandits. These were trained killers. How does one man carve through all of them like that?"
Black Zetsu's voice oozed from the other half, darker, sharper. "Because he is an Uchiha. And not just any Uchiha. His eyes make the battlefield a stage."
White tilted his head, grinning wider. "Still… those ANBU weren't weak. Not even a scratch on him? Not one blade close to him? That's—hah—terrifying."
The masked man finally spoke, his voice calm, measured. "It is not surprising. Even without revealing his full hand, Itachi was always a prodigy."
White Zetsu's grin widened. "Speaking of revealing—what was that black fire? Burned even a jinchūriki's chakra cloak. Heh. Looked like Yagura would melt to ash if Konan hadn't stopped him."
For once, silence lingered. Then Black Zetsu hissed low, ancient.
"Amaterasu."
White blinked. "Ama-what?"
Black continued. "The flame that devours all things. A Mangekyō secret. It does not fade until its target became nothing but ash. Even water cannot quench it."
White gave a slow whistle. "Scary. So that's what's hiding behind those calm Sharingan eyes of his."
Then White's grin sharpened, and he tilted his head slyly. "Orochimaru's eyes are practically drooling over him. Can't stop staring at Itachi like he's already his next body."
Black Zetsu gave a low, dark chuckle.
"The Sannin bites more than he can chew. His greed will be his undoing."
White Zetsu snickered, eyes gleaming.
"So tell me… does that mean even the great Legendary Sannin can't handle him? Is Itachi too much for Orochimaru?"
The masked man's Sharingan glowed faintly inside the spiral mask. His voice was calm, but carried a sharp edge.
"Orochimaru may slither endlessly, chasing immortality. But against Itachi… even his ambition finds its limit."
The masked man's lone Sharingan glimmered.
Then White Zetsu piped up again. "But if Itachi's already this dangerous… why are you so obsessed with Sasuke? You already have the older brother under your thumb."
A pause. The masked man's voice lowered, edged with something unreadable.
"My instincts tell me Sasuke is different. More important than even Itachi. The boy carries something… something that may outlast all of this. It's not logic. It's not strategy. It's simply my gut."
Black Zetsu laughed. "Heh. So even you gamble on instincts."
Madara's voice dropped like ice.
"I never gamble. I prepare. And Sasuke… is the future. One way or another."
The shadows deepened, swallowing their words as the sea crashed in the distance.
The Akatsuki moved their pieces. And in the darkness, two brothers' fates grew heavier.
---
**End of Chapter 18**