The storm had not yet passed.
Even though Konoha burned in distant embers, another, quieter storm brewed at the edges of Ame — one that would decide the fate of the dream Nagato, Konan, and Yahiko had once shared.
Konan's paper wings stretched wide, her eyes scanning the rain-slick landscape. Ame's ever-present downpour blurred the edges of vision, but Konan had long learned to see beyond the rain. Somewhere nearby, she could feel it — the shift in the air, the presence that didn't belong.
Nagato sat on his mechanical chair, emaciated yet unwavering. His hollow Rinnegan stared forward, unblinking. Though the Six Paths had been destroyed in Konoha, his life force clung stubbornly to his frail frame.
"Something approaches," Nagato murmured, his voice hoarse but resolute.
Konan's paper shifted defensively around him. "I know. His chakra… it feels like a void."
And then he emerged. A ripple in space, swirling like liquid shadow, tearing the fabric of the rainstorm apart. Uchiha Obito — masked, silent, yet radiating a menace that made even the storm pause.
Konan's wings sharpened into a thousand paper blades. "You dare show your face here."
Obito's voice was calm, almost cruel in its detachment. "I've come for what was always mine."
Nagato's eyes narrowed. "These Rinnegan… you mean."
A hollow chuckle escaped the mask. "They were never yours. Madara implanted them in you the day you were chosen as his pawn. Your pain, your dream, your 'justice'—all cultivated so you would serve his design."
The words struck harder than blades. Nagato's breath caught, his skeletal hands clenching at the armrest of his chair. Konan stepped closer, trembling in restrained fury.
"You lie," she hissed. "Yahiko's sacrifice, Nagato's resolve—none of that was Madara's will!"
"Then why," Obito tilted his head, "do those eyes obey me more than you?"
Before she could answer, the air fractured. Obito blurred forward, his Kamui warping space. Konan's paper erupted into a storm, intercepting him mid-step. Shuriken of sharpened origami slashed at his form, exploding with chakra.
But each attack phased harmlessly through him.
Konan gritted her teeth. "So you'll hide behind that accursed jutsu?"
Obito's reply was a whisper, "I don't need to hide. I only need time."
And then the battlefield descended into chaos.
Konan danced in the rainstorm, her paper storm forming waves of kunai, spears, and explosive tags. She was elegant yet desperate, her movements flowing like the storm itself. Nagato, though chained to his machine, summoned what remained of his strength. Shinra Tensei rippled out, bending the rain, hurling debris, keeping Obito at bay.
But Obito was patient. Each time he lunged, Kamui bent reality. Each time Konan nearly caught him, his form dissolved like mist.
"Persistent," Obito muttered as he evaded a flurry of paper spears. "But futile."
He reappeared behind Nagato, hand reaching for his face—
BAM!
Nagato's Shinra Tensei exploded outward, blasting Obito back. Blood dripped from Nagato's mouth, the effort tearing into what little life force he had left.
"Don't… touch Yahiko's dream…" Nagato rasped.
Obito straightened, brushing dust from his cloak. "Yahiko's dream? Don't delude yourself. Yahiko died as a martyr for my plan. And you—you've been nothing but the vessel to nurture these eyes until the right time."
Konan's fury snapped. Her paper wrapped around her body, transforming into a massive paper angel. "You will not take him! You will not take his dream!"
She unleashed her forbidden technique — the Paper Ocean. Thousands, no, millions of explosive tags unfolded around them, carpeting the battlefield in death. The entire landscape became a sea of paper bombs, each charged to annihilate everything.
Obito froze, momentarily stunned.
"I'll drag you to hell if I must," Konan said, her voice sharp with grief and devotion.
The tags detonated. A roar consumed Ame's skies. The world itself seemed to splinter as the ocean of fire swallowed everything.
But when the storm subsided… Obito stood. His body charred, cloak torn, yet alive. Kamui's intangibility had shielded him just enough.
Konan staggered, bloodied and exhausted. "No… not even this?"
Obito's tone was almost mocking. "Did you really think mere paper could rewrite fate?"
He flickered forward. His hand pierced through Nagato's face—
And the world tilted.
Nagato gasped as searing pain ripped through him. Obito's hand withdrew—clutching a single Rinnegan. One eye. One godlike tool.
"Half the prize," Obito said, his mask gleaming under the rain. "The other will follow soon."
Konan screamed, paper lashing desperately at him, but her movements were sluggish. Obito swatted her away with a brutal kick, sending her crashing into the wet earth.
Nagato's chest heaved. His one remaining Rinnegan glowed faintly. Blood streamed down his face, mixing with the rain.
"Konan…" His voice was weak, but steady.
She crawled back to his side, trembling, broken. "Nagato… don't—don't speak. Save your strength!"
But Nagato's skeletal hand clutched hers. His gaze was calm, serene. "I've lived… as a pawn. But I can choose… how I die."
Obito narrowed his eyes. "Don't be foolish. You can't stop me."
Nagato smiled faintly — a hollow, bitter smile. "Perhaps not… but I can delay you."
His remaining eye burned with violent light. He channeled everything left into a jutsu not meant to be survived. Chakra exploded from his body, twisting the very rain.
"Konan," he whispered, "live… carry Yahiko's dream… and protect this eye."
Before she could protest, his power surged. The earth quaked. Trees bent. Space itself seemed to warp as Nagato prepared to consume himself in the ultimate sacrifice.
Obito's eye widened. "You—"
The explosion erupted. A black sphere of crushing gravity pulled everything inward, a mockery of the Six Paths' most devastating powers. Nagato's body disintegrated in the maelstrom of his own jutsu, consumed by his final act of defiance.
Konan's paper wings wrapped around her. She was hurled out of the battlefield, Nagato's last surge of chakra propelling her far away—away from Obito, away from Ame's broken ground, carrying the last Rinnegan clutched tightly to her chest.
When the storm finally subsided, Obito stood alone amidst the ruins. His cloak tattered, mask cracked, one Rinnegan secured in his possession.
He looked at the devastation Nagato had left behind and muttered, "A pawn until the end."
And then, like smoke, he vanished.
Far away, Konan collapsed in the rain, her hands trembling around the eye Nagato had entrusted to her. Tears streamed down her face, indistinguishable from the downpour.
Her heart was torn between grief and rage, but above all, one truth rang bitterly in her chest — Nagato had died not as Pain, not as a god, but as a man betrayed, a man who finally understood his own insignificance in Madara's scheme.
And yet, even in his final act, he had chosen.Chosen to save her.Chosen to protect Yahiko's dream, however fragile it still was.
Konan clenched the Rinnegan to her chest, whispering through her tears:
"I will not let your dream die… Nagato… Yahiko… I'll protect it until my last breath."
The rain of Ame fell heavily, as if mourning the passing of the man who had once called himself a god.