"Tobi, Nagato wants to see you."
From the pitch-black corner of the chamber, a figure emerged—Black Zetsu, his body half fused with the shadows, voice as cold and sinister as a whisper from the abyss.
Tobi, crouched in his usual childish posture with his orange mask tilted slightly, raised his head in irritation. His single visible eye narrowed.
"Didn't you already explain everything clearly to him? Why does he insist on meeting me again?"
Black Zetsu fell silent for a moment. His lips curved faintly, but his eyes were sharp and filled with hidden displeasure. He thought bitterly: Who created this disaster in the first place? And now it falls upon me to clean up the aftermath?
Yet, despite his irritation, he restrained himself. When dealing with Tobi, patience was often the sharpest weapon.
"I did explain," he finally said, tone laced with sarcasm, "but Nagato refuses to accept second-hand words. He wants to hear your own account of Uchiha Gen's situation."
At that name, Tobi's eye flashed with annoyance. For a brief instant, regret passed over his features, but it was quickly replaced with his usual forced levity. He sighed heavily, as though the burden pressing on him was too great.
"Fine… let's get this over with."
Before moving, Tobi recounted to Black Zetsu the discussion he had shared earlier with Uchiha Itachi—the dreadful awakening of Uchiha Gen's Mangekyō abilities, and the consequences that spiraled from that single night.
As Black Zetsu listened, his expression darkened further. His thoughts ran deep.
The Uchiha clan has birthed countless powerful shinobi throughout history. Yet even Indra's reincarnations never displayed such overwhelming ocular might. This isn't merely genjutsu—it's as if Gen's words alone carry the power to twist reality. An ability rivaling, no, surpassing Shisui's Kotoamatsukami… enhanced beyond imagination.
But Tobi, unwilling to dwell on the matter, waved dismissively. "Enough. Sitting here and debating won't change anything. Take me to Nagato."
As his form flickered and began to vanish, Black Zetsu cursed inwardly.
This fool… unreliable in every way.
---
The Akatsuki's Gathering
Moments later, in the hidden stronghold of the Akatsuki deep within the rain-soaked village, the masked Tobi stepped into the vast meeting chamber.
The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive, almost suffocating. Around the circular table, the organization's most infamous members were already gathered.
At the center sat Nagato, controlling the Deva Path of Pain, Rinnegan eyes glowing with quiet menace. His gaunt features betrayed no emotion, but the weight in his voice had already put everyone on edge. Beside him stood Konan, her blue hair falling gracefully like the paper sheets she so often commanded, her face etched with deep worry.
Around them, other figures radiated their own auras of danger:
Kakuzu, arms crossed, his expression blank yet cold as stone, always calculating.
Sasori, hidden within his puppet body, sat wordlessly, his empty eyes betraying little but the faintest flicker of thought.
Orochimaru, serpentine and sinister, leaned forward ever so slightly, his gaze sweeping across the room with predatory delight. His eyes lingered on Uchiha Itachi, gleaming with covetous hunger.
Uchiha Itachi, silent as ever, stood calm and detached, his face unreadable though his heart churned beneath the surface.
The air buzzed with restrained tension.
Nagato finally spoke, his voice solemn, reverberating like distant thunder.
"Everyone, I have called you here because the world faces an imminent calamity. The ninja world is on the verge of destruction."
---
A Storm of Reactions
The declaration drew immediate responses.
Kakuzu let out a low, scornful laugh, his tone dripping with disdain.
"Boss, this doesn't sound like you. Since when did the Akatsuki transform from mercenaries to a peacekeeping force? Are we now saviors instead of hunters of bounties?"
Sasori, still and silent, did not join in the mockery. His gaze lowered as if contemplating the meaning behind Nagato's words.
Orochimaru, however, chuckled, his voice slithering like venom.
"The destruction of the ninja world… How fascinating. Truly, a scenario worth observing. Perhaps even worth surviving, if possible…" His eyes flicked back toward Itachi, studying him with interest.
Nagato's gaze sharpened. His tone cut through their skepticism like a blade.
"I do not speak in jest. This is not genjutsu or illusion."
As if to silence all doubts, the Rinnegan glowed with immense power. A wave of ocular energy surged outward.
"Channel your rings. See for yourselves."
The Akatsuki rings connected their consciousness to Nagato's projection.
And then—they saw it.
---
The Vision of Doom
In the infinite dark of outer space, an unfathomable mass loomed. A colossal star, blazing like the incarnation of destruction, hurtled toward their world. Its sheer presence pressed down on their souls, each heartbeat echoing with despair.
Through the Rinnegan, they witnessed the inevitable:
Mountains crumbling into dust.
Tsunamis rising higher than nations, swallowing coasts whole.
Firestorms consuming skies, blotting out sun and moon.
Villages, cities, and all life reduced to nothing in the blink of an eye.
The very earth shattering, torn into fragments adrift in silence.
For a brief eternity, each of them saw the annihilation of everything they had ever known.
When the vision ended, silence ruled the chamber.
The bravado, the mockery, the indifference—all had vanished. Every Akatsuki member bore grim expressions.
Even Orochimaru, usually mocking death itself, lowered his head, his smile gone. For the first time, his pale features betrayed unease. His fists clenched tightly, knuckles pale. If the world itself is erased, what use is immortality? What meaning remains in endless experiments?
---
Itachi's Burden
Beside him, Sasori's gaze shifted coldly toward Uchiha Itachi. A trace of mockery curled his lips.
"So this is the consequence of your betrayal, of slaughtering your own clan. Tell me, Itachi, is this irony not exquisite?"
Itachi's crimson eyes remained calm, but inside, storms raged. His silence was not denial, but grief.
I did what I had to, to protect Konoha, to protect Sasuke. I accepted the burden of sin. But now… has it only led to greater catastrophe?
His mind replayed the night of the Uchiha massacre, when Gen awakened that cursed power. If Gen had not resisted, if he had accepted the clan's fate quietly, this terror would never have been born.
A wave of resentment rose within him.
Izumi… if only you hadn't stood in the way, rewriting the script of sacrifice. Everything could have ended in sorrow, yes—but not in this madness that dooms the entire world.
For the first time, Uchiha Itachi's heart felt powerless, his sacrifices meaningless. His hands clenched at his sides.
Uchiha Gen… why must you drag everything into ruin?
---
The Others
Kakuzu, normally the embodiment of greed and apathy, said nothing. His head lowered slightly. He too had understood the truth—if the world vanished, all his amassed wealth, all his centuries of survival, would dissolve into dust.
Konan, standing loyally beside Nagato, was pale. She had already confirmed the authenticity of Nagato's vision. Yet her worry deepened—not for herself, but for Nagato. His body was frail, his spirit burdened. Could he shoulder the weight of saving the entire shinobi world?
---
Nagato's Resolve
The Deva Path of Pain stepped forward, towering presence dominating the chamber. His Rinnegan glowed with resolute light.
"Only united can we resist this fate. Only together can we hope to survive."
His words rolled like thunder, steady and unyielding.
"The Rinnegan alone possesses the power to confront this catastrophe. And so, the Akatsuki will stand—not as mercenaries, but as the final hope of the ninja world."
He let his words sink in before turning his piercing gaze toward one man in particular.
"Orochimaru. You will contact Konoha."
The chamber fell silent again, each member weighing the enormity of what had been declared.
The Akatsuki, born as an organization of mercenaries, rebels, and outcasts, now stood on the brink of transformation. Whether they accepted it or not, fate had thrust upon them the burden of the world.
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)