Kurama was punching Ōtsutsuki .
Kicking Ōtsutsuki Urashiki.
The dignity of the Ōtsutsuki clan had been utterly trampled.
Their noble bloodline, the divine conquerors of worlds, reduced to a laughingstock by "lower lifeforms."
What a disgrace.
But for Kurama, it was clear: Urashiki and Kinshiki were the real lower creatures.
As the smoke and dust cleared, two battered figures emerged from the rubble—Momoshiki and Urashiki.
Their glare toward Kurama burned with rage.
These were the beings who'd roamed the universe, destroying planets as if it were child's play. Their clothes had barely known a wrinkle in battle.
Now, they had been sent flying.
Not by chakra beasts or ancient weapons, but by fists. Kicks. Brawling.
Worse, by the very creatures they deemed beneath them.
Sure, the physical damage wasn't lethal.
But the pain? The humiliation?
Oh, that was real.
They hadn't felt pain in centuries. And now, Kurama had them eating fists like ramen.
"Stupid, pathetic lower creature! You piece of filth!" Momoshiki roared, his usually pristine expression now twisted.
Too bad. His rage meant nothing.
His words meant nothing.
He was helpless.
Kinshiki, though calmer, saw things more clearly.
"Lord Momoshiki, this one is strong. Equal to Kaguya. Perhaps stronger."
Kurama had demonstrated Kaguya's techniques, only executed with terrifying speed and amplified force.
And he hadn't even used ninjutsu.
Not once.
Which rendered one of Momoshiki's Rinnegan abilities—absorbing ninjutsu—completely useless.
His greatest trump card was neutered.
"Hey, you two! What, gonna stand there sulking like emo genin? Either get serious or get lost!"
Kurama grinned devilishly.
His taunts stung more than his fists.
A thousand years of interstellar conquest... undone by one arrogant bastard.
Momoshiki stepped forward, his body shifting into the Eight Trigrams stance.
But Kurama wasn't giving him a fair fight.
No, Kurama blitzed forward—a blur of raw killing intent—his fist soaring toward Momoshiki's face.
Even through the Byakugan, the blow seemed nearly unavoidable.
Momoshiki swerved, narrowly evading the attack.
"Kinshiki! Now!"
Kinshiki answered with a mighty swing of his great chakra axe, descending with such force that mountains would tremble.
He was the Ōtsutsuki powerhouse—a brute force specialist with strength second only to Isshiki.
The synchronization between the two was perfect. Refined over centuries.
But this was Kurama.
And Kurama wasn't phased.
He smiled—a twisted, terrifying smirk.
An uneasy, primal chill crept up Jinshiki's spine.
Something was wrong.
"Get back! NOW!" Momoshiki screamed.
But it was too late.
Kurama's Sharingan swirled.
The scarlet tomoe spiraled, morphing into concentric rings.
"Mangekyō Sharingan... Kamui: God's Domain!"
A vortex ripped into space itself around Jinshiki.
"What the hell is this?!"
Even with their knowledge of space-time techniques like Amenotejikara, this was foreign.
Deadly.
Kinshiki's instincts screamed.
Shinigami—Death itself—was calling.
"Shinraikiri!" (Divine Severance)
A cascade of slashes tore through space.
Kinshiki's arms were sheared clean off, his axe clattering uselessly to the ground as he fell backward, blood spraying.
"Tch. All that muscle, and your arms go down like soggy tempura," Kurama scoffed.
Momoshiki immediately activated Banshō Ten'in, pulling Jinshiki to safety.
Any later, and he would have lost more than limbs.
Kurama flexed his fingers, Sharingan still spinning.
"Never seen Mangekyō before? Pity. You guys need to update your clan manual."
The Ōtsutsuki clan, for all their supposed omniscience, were clueless about the Uchiha's ocular arts.
Kaguya's eyes narrowed in recognition.
Of course, she remembered.
Her son, Hagoromo, the Sage of Six Paths, had wielded Mangekyō.
But this variant? This spatial application?
She had never seen it in action.
Mangekyō Sharingan.
The precursor to Rinnegan.
And yet here, Kurama weaponized it like a god.
Momoshiki's face twisted.
"Kinshiki's defeat... from such a cursed eye?"
Ridiculous.
Yet, undeniable.
Even Kakashi Hatake—with double Kamui Mangekyō—had stood toe-to-toe with Kaguya once.
Kinshiki panted heavily, pain radiating from his severed stumps.
"Lord Momoshiki... he's too strong. Please... absorb me."
Momoshiki gritted his teeth.
"No. Not yet."
At that moment, Kaguya stepped up beside Kurama.
"Master Kurama... may I warm up a bit?"
Kurama looked over and winked.
"Heh. You wanna stretch those elegant limbs of yours? Be my guest."
Kaguya smiled coyly.
Momoshiki and Kinshiki both turned pale.
Kaguya.
The traitor.
Once a revered member of the Ōtsutsuki clan, now siding with... them.
They hadn't seen her in centuries.
But they knew her power intimately.
If she joined the fray...
"Don't tell me she thinks she can 2v1 us. What kind of delusional courage is this?" Kinshiki hissed.
Then the third eye on Kaguya's forehead pulsed.
The Rinne Sharingan.
"Infinite Tsukuyomi's mother eye... activated!"
"Tsuki no Me: Yomotsu Hirasaka!"
Time and space warped. The battlefield blurred.
Kurama grinned as the light around them flickered.
Momoshiki and Jinshiki felt it.
Despair.
Real, primal fear.
The kind they had not tasted in millennia.
A sensation foreign to gods.
And yet, here it was.
Served cold.
By the same woman they once branded a failure.
And a man who spat in the face of their legacy.
Kurama and Kaguya: an unholy union that shattered the heavens.
This was no longer just a battle.
It was the twilight of the Ōtsutsuki gods.
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