Inside the rain-slicked tower that served as Akatsuki's stronghold, the meeting chamber was filled with a suffocating tension.
Nagato sat at the head, his thin body supported by the Deva Path of Pain. The glow of his Rinnegan pulsed faintly in the dim light, like the eyes of a god gazing down upon mortals. As his chakra flared, an overwhelming aura spread across the room.
Even among hardened killers and mercenaries like the Akatsuki members, the weight of his presence was undeniable. Kakuzu's expression tightened, Sasori's puppet body clicked faintly as his chakra strings trembled, and even Orochimaru—so often amused and mocking—fell quiet for a brief instant, his serpentine eyes narrowing.
Nagato's voice cut through the silence. Calm, resonant, but heavy with authority.
"From this moment, our plans change. The era of mercenary contracts is over. The world itself faces destruction. Only by acting together can we ensure survival."
Konan stepped closer, silent but watchful, her paper flowers rustling faintly. Nagato continued, his gaze sweeping across the room.
"Konan, you will cooperate with Tamaki. I want every detail of this meteor calculated—its trajectory, speed, size, and expected impact zone. Nothing must be left uncertain."
Sasori shifted slightly, his gaze flicking toward Orochimaru. He said nothing, his silence colder than words.
Orochimaru broke it first. His lips curled into a thin smile, and he let out a slow, mocking hiss.
"Hehehe… Even if we calculate everything with precision, what then? Do you intend to catch the heavens themselves in your hands, Nagato? Can even the Rinnegan stop a star from obliterating the world?"
The challenge hung in the air like venom.
Nagato slowly lifted his head. His eyes, the godlike concentric ripples of the Rinnegan, glowed with chilling brilliance.
"Do not question the power of a god."
His voice reverberated through the chamber, heavy with absolute conviction. The pressure of his chakra seemed to crush Orochimaru's mockery flat.
"In this coming apocalypse, the Rinnegan alone can resist. The Akatsuki are not mercenaries anymore. We are the final hope of the shinobi world."
Even Kakuzu, who mocked ideals, felt something stir at those words. Orochimaru's smile faltered, though his curiosity only deepened. Inside, hunger gnawed at him.
If such power truly exists… if the Rinnegan can face down the heavens themselves… then I must witness it, dissect it, and claim it for myself.
But for now, even he could only remain silent.
Nagato pressed on, ignoring Orochimaru's doubts.
"The rest of you—your mission is to spread the news of this catastrophe. Use the black market, mercenary channels, and every shadowed network we possess. The Five Great Nations must know disaster is coming. They must take action, whether they believe it or not."
The command settled over them like iron. None dared refuse.
Finally, Nagato turned to Konan again, his voice quieter.
"The supplies we procured… adjust them immediately. Cancel the order for explosive tags."
Konan's lips pressed into a thin line. Those tags had been a contingency—her weapon against Obito should he betray them again. But the leader's word was law, and the weight of the current threat allowed no argument. She inclined her head silently.
By dawn, the black market would tremble. Explosive tags, once hoarded at sky-high prices, flooded back into circulation. Their value collapsed overnight, leaving whispers of confusion and panic.
Nagato's voice rose once more, cold and unwavering.
"Remember this: though the end of the world approaches, you need not fear. Here, the Rinnegan will protect you. In this catastrophe, only Akatsuki stands as hope."
The words echoed. For a moment, silence held the chamber.
Then, inevitably, Orochimaru's sinister chuckle broke it.
"Hehehe… As expected of our great leader. If even the gods tremble, I look forward to seeing how you bend fate itself, Nagato."
Kakuzu exchanged a long glance with Konan. His mind ticked through calculations. If Nagato truly resists this meteor, then wealth and power will flow endlessly in the aftermath. If he fails… then none of it matters anyway.
Sasori remained expressionless. Salvation, destruction, hope—none of it mattered to him. Only eternal art mattered. Whether the world burned or not, his goal was unchanging.
Only Konan's eyes softened with unease. She knew better than anyone the toll Nagato's body bore. His strength seemed divine, but his body was fragile, a candle burning at both ends. Could even the Rinnegan withstand the wrath of the heavens?
Still, Nagato's unshakable presence steadied the room. The plan was set. The Akatsuki, willingly or not, would march beneath his banner.
---
The Root's Shadow
Far from the rain, deep underground in Konoha, another shadow stirred.
The Root base was dim, yellow torchlight flickering against stone walls, casting jagged shadows. Inside, Danzo Shimura stood before a mirror.
His hands moved slowly, unwrapping the thick bandages that had long hidden his face. Layer after layer fell away, until the mirror revealed the features he so carefully concealed.
The reflection staring back was not the same as before. His skin, once withered and lined with age, now seemed tauter, faint vitality returning where there had only been decay. The years had not vanished, but they had loosened their grip.
Danzo's lone eye glimmered coldly. At the corner of his lips, a faint, sinister smile twisted.
The massacre of the Uchiha… it was more than political victory. That night of blood awakened something within me. The First Hokage's cells I carry have strengthened their bond with my body. Shisui's Sharingan lies dormant in some strange stasis, yet that very silence has allowed me to adapt even more perfectly to the power of Hashirama.
He flexed his right arm—the grotesque limb once crammed with stolen Sharingan. It pulsed with power, stronger than ever. He could feel it, the potential to graft even more.
"Hmph." His voice was low, dripping disdain. "The so-called destruction of the ninja world…"
He recalled Hyūga Hiashi and the Third Hokage's grave faces earlier that day, their council filled with hushed whispers and worry. The memory made him scoff.
"Those cowards tremble at shadows. To speak of meteors, of the world's end—it is laughable."
Yet in his heart, Danzo already schemed.
Even if some disaster comes, it will be nothing more than opportunity. While fools panic, I will seize control. Chaos breeds power. Konoha will rise above all, and through me, the shinobi world will kneel.
He leaned closer to the mirror, the faint lines of rejuvenation twisting into something greedy.
"Disaster is the end for the weak… but for the strong, it is the beginning."
At that moment, a masked Root operative appeared silently behind him, bowing low.
"Lord Danzo, urgent intelligence from the black market. Please review it."
Danzo turned slowly, eyes narrowing as he accepted the scroll. At first, he opened it with practiced disinterest, expecting little.
But as his gaze passed over the words, his composure wavered. His eye flickered, scanning the details again and again.
Multiple reports. Different sources. Orochimaru's network. Root's spies. Black market traders. All carried the same warning.
A colossal asteroid. On a direct path to the world. Impact inevitable. Global annihilation predicted.
Danzo's grip on the document tightened, the parchment crinkling under his hand. His jaw set.
This was no idle rumor. The intelligence was too detailed, too corroborated. Orbital calculations, estimated impact timelines—it bore the mark of precision. Too many voices echoed the same truth.
For once, Danzo found himself unsettled.
"How… could this be?"
Moments ago, he had mocked Hiashi and Hiruzen for their fear. Now reality itself mocked him, the weight of the information slamming against his pride.
His gaze flickered. Quickly, his mind shifted gears, calculating, assessing. If true, the rules of power had changed. Survival itself would become the new currency.
His eyes fell upon another name in the report.
Uchiha Gen.
Danzo's lips twisted into a snarl.
"Again… Always the Uchiha. Always the curse of their existence! And Itachi—what is he doing? Why has he not controlled this madness?"
He read further, an additional note in Orochimaru's distinctive hand. The mention of the Rinnegan, of Nagato, and of Akatsuki's role in the world's final hope.
Danzo exhaled slowly, suppressing his fury. The crisis was real. And that meant only one course remained.
"Summon Orochimaru," he ordered coldly, his eye gleaming with dangerous resolve. "I will meet him personally."
His gaze dropped once more to his arm, greed flickering across his face.
More eyes. More power. If the heavens themselves fall, then only those who surpass humanity will stand. And that will be me.
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