Deep within an unnamed mountain valley, space twisted without warning.
A masked man stepped out of the distortion, his black cloak patterned with red clouds fluttering as the air settled. His mood was foul, to put it lightly.
This operation had never been meant as a decisive strike. It was a test. A trial run for a lesser version of Infinite Tsukuyomi, something closer to a limited projection of its power. If it needed a name, it would be a "restricted Tsukuyomi."
Originally, failure wouldn't have bothered him.
After all, Konoha housed that man. He had never seriously expected to seize the Nine-Tails right under Fujimoto Tōma's nose. This mission had been low risk by design. Capturing the Nine-Tails would have been a windfall. Failing to do so should have been inconsequential.
And yet…
The masked man replayed what he had witnessed in the Tsukuyomi world, his jaw tightening.
Naruto's strength had far exceeded expectations. Even Nagato, in his prime, had never left him with this level of unease. The boy wasn't merely using the Nine-Tails' chakra.
He was mastering it.
More troubling still, the power Naruto displayed dwarfed that of the Eight-Tails' jinchūriki. The gap wasn't subtle. It was humiliatingly obvious.
The masked man exhaled slowly.
This meant future plans had to change. Konoha's threat wasn't limited to the Nine-Tails alone. Fujimoto Tōma had to be factored in as well.
Worst-case assumptions were now the baseline.
If Naruto was this strong, then Tōma had to be stronger.
Which begged the question.
What exactly was Konoha preparing for, hiding power of this scale so deeply?
The masked man's thoughts briefly drifted to the Tsukuyomi world's version of Tōma, the one who had already unified the shinobi world. That outcome didn't trouble him much. Personalities within illusionary worlds often inverted. If that Tōma was ruthless and decisive, then this one was likely the opposite.
At least in temperament.
Still, discouragement never crossed his mind.
If a perfected Nine-Tails jinchūriki was already this powerful, then what would happen once he himself became the Ten-Tails' jinchūriki?
At that point, even Fujimoto Tōma wouldn't matter.
As that thought settled, the ground beside him rippled. A black-and-white figure rose from the earth.
"We have a visitor," Zetsu said, his dual voices overlapping.
"A visitor?" The masked man turned.
Sitting casually nearby, pouring tea as though he owned the place, was Orochimaru.
"…You?" The masked man's gaze sharpened. "Why are you here?"
Orochimaru chuckled, unfazed by the hostility. "No need to be so tense. I came to discuss cooperation."
"I don't recall us having anything to cooperate on."
"Oh? With the Fourth Shinobi War approaching, I think you might find my assistance useful." Orochimaru smiled thinly. "Let me guess. You just returned from Konoha, didn't you? And you felt it. Their strength."
Silence stretched between them.
The masked man's single visible eye darkened as he stared at Orochimaru.
Seeing that reaction, Orochimaru's smile widened. To him, the hesitation was confirmation enough.
There was a misunderstanding, of course. Orochimaru assumed the masked man had encountered Fujimoto Tōma's power directly, while the masked man believed Orochimaru was referring to the Nine-Tails' overwhelming strength.
But misunderstandings rarely stopped cooperation.
"So," the masked man said at last, "what exactly do you think you can offer me?"
Orochimaru answered by forming hand seals.
With a dull thud, several coffins erupted from the ground. As the lids slid open, familiar faces were revealed.
Former members of the Akatsuki.
Some were missing. Nagato was still alive in Konoha. Uchiha Itachi's body had been taken by Sasuke. A pity, really. Orochimaru had coveted that power once.
"…The Second Hokage's forbidden technique," the masked man said slowly. "Edo Tensei."
"Correct," Orochimaru replied, licking his lips.
"That alone isn't enough," the masked man said flatly. "They won't change the outcome."
"Is that so?" Orochimaru's grin turned unsettling.
Another coffin emerged.
When the lid opened, both the masked man and Zetsu froze.
Orochimaru laughed softly.
Yes. That expression. That's the one.
Fujimoto Tōma had been calm when he'd seen this. Interested, but not shaken.
This reaction, though?
This was far more satisfying.
Unaware of the meeting taking place in the shadows, Fujimoto Tōma sat through yet another Five Kage conference.
The meetings had become frequent. Too frequent.
As Supreme Commander, his presence was mandatory.
Truthfully, after establishing the overall direction, most discussions were redundant. They hadn't even located the enemy's main base yet. Strategy without a target was just noise.
Tōma listened anyway.
The current focus was reconnaissance. Scouts from all five villages were sweeping their assigned regions. It was only a matter of time before Akatsuki's base was uncovered.
Some results had come out of these meetings.
The Allied Shinobi Forces' size had been finalized. Roughly eighty thousand personnel, including the samurai of the Land of Iron.
Tōma reviewed the roster with a critical eye.
The number looked impressive. Too impressive.
Konoha itself didn't have ten thousand active shinobi. Most younger ninja were the village's future and wouldn't be sent to the battlefield. Many registered shinobi were already deceased, their numbers never fully corrected.
If Konoha was like this, the other villages were worse.
Which meant most of those eighty thousand weren't shinobi at all.
They were samurai.
Capable, disciplined, but ultimately limited. Against true monsters, shinobi would decide the war.
Another matter settled was equipment.
Individual village headbands were retired. In their place, a unified forehead protector bearing a single character: Shinobi. A symbolic move, meant to bind the alliance together.
Mass production was assigned to Sunagakure. While Kirigakure excelled at weaponcraft, Suna's experience with puppet manufacturing made them better suited for bulk work.
The loudest arguments, however, were over command structure.
Eventually, Tōma ended them.
The Five Kage would jointly lead the alliance, with Fujimoto Tōma as Supreme Commander. The position of Chief Strategist went to the Fourth Raikage, a political choice more than a practical one.
Everyone understood the real planners operated beneath him.
The advisory council was headed by Nara Shikaku and Mabui. No objections were raised.
Intelligence was placed under Yamanaka Inoichi and Ao.
Medical operations were unanimously assigned to Senju Tsunade.
From there, specialized divisions were distributed among the villages.
Finally came the combat divisions.
Five were formed.
First Division: Led by Hatake Kakashi. Mid-range and close combat specialists. Sustained engagements.
Second Division: Led by Darui. Mid-range fighters specializing in weapons and projectiles.
Third Division: Led by Kitsuchi. Close-range shock troops for frontline assaults.
Fourth Division: Led by Gaara. Long-range support and battlefield control.
Fifth Division: Led by Mifune. Samurai units and unconventional fighters.
Overall battlefield command was given to Gaara.
The Raikage had wanted that position. Taking the strategist role had cost him the chance.
Ōnoki hadn't contested it. Age had settled that matter.
Tōma himself would have liked the role, but Supreme Commander took precedence.
Kirigakure drew the short straw. Talent shortages and Akatsuki's historical activity in their territory left them with fewer positions of influence. Mei Terumi accepted it with grace, holding a largely ceremonial post while Chōjūrō handled real command duties.
The Fourth Division's day-to-day command fell to Nara Shikamaru. Sunagakure trusted his judgment, and his relationship with Temari made the decision even easier to sell.
At last, everything was settled.
Tōma finally relaxed.
Then Nara Shikaku hurried over, expression tight.
"Another issue?" Tōma sighed.
"No," Shikaku said, unable to hide his tension. "Good news. We've located Akatsuki's base."
Tōma stood at once.
"Get the others," he said calmly. "We're moving to the war room."
At last.
The board was set.