Chapter 52: Restoration and Preparation
Deep within a damp, lightless cave, Nagato concentrated, using Yin-Yang Release to further strengthen the physical frame of the Deva Path.
"Nagato."
The voice came from nowhere. Uchiha Obito materialized beside him.
Nagato looked up at the sudden appearance of his masked benefactor. "Lord Madara. What brings you?"
Obito's gaze, hidden behind the spiraling mask, studied Nagato's emaciated form. "Nagato. Your current mobility is severely impaired, is it not?"
After a brief silence, Nagato admitted, "Lord Madara, my forced summoning of the Gedo Statue drained my life force. The damage to my legs... is beyond ordinary healing."
The act of compelling the Outer Path had consumed his vitality, leaving him withered and crippled.
"I am aware," Obito nodded. "For others, restoring such lost vitality would be a monumental task. For me, it is a simple matter."
A flicker of desperate hope lit in Nagato's violet Rinnegan. "Lord Madara... is that true?"
To be trapped in this broken body, dependent on Konan's care before the creation of the Paths, was a constant humiliation. If he could be made whole again, he would seize the chance without hesitation. Only with a healthy body could he unleash the Rinnegan's true, undivided might. The Six Paths Technique was a workaround, a division of power. True supremacy lay in the original vessel.
"Of course it is true," Obito replied, a faint, unseen smile curling his lips. "A transplantation of Hashirama Senju's cells will replenish what you have lost."
"Hashirama Senju's cells?" Nagato's confusion was evident. "The First Hokage of Konoha? His cells possess such properties?"
"Naturally. Hashirama's cells not only contain immense vitality, but a successful transplant can also grant the user Wood Release," Obito explained, his tone taking on a deliberate, reminiscing quality.
"Hashirama's Wood Release was the ultimate expression of his vitality. Any injury healed near-instantly without medical ninjutsu. His chakra reserves dwarfed even the tailed beasts. Under his Wood Release, the beasts were mere playthings. The title 'God of Shinobi' was earned, not given."
"Such power... truly worthy of the name," Nagato murmured, awed despite himself.
"Of course. He was, after all, my only worthy rival." Obito's voice was thick with manufactured nostalgia.
Nagato's expression solidified into one of solemn resolve. "I implore you, Lord Madara. Please, help me."
"That is the intention," Obito said smoothly. "Prepare yourself. I will craft new limbs for you. Your current legs are beyond salvage."
After Obito departed, Konan stepped from the shadows behind Nagato, her face etched with concern.
Seeing her worry, Nagato offered reassurance. "Konan, do not be overly anxious. Even if he has ulterior motives, nothing can be hidden from the sight of the Rinnegan."
"I cannot shake the feeling this 'Uchiha Madara' is dripping with malice. He feels... unnatural," Konan whispered, her unease palpable.
"It is of no consequence," Nagato stated, his voice hardening. "Once I am restored, my strength will grow with time. Eventually, it will surpass his. Then, such concerns will be irrelevant. In this world, Konan, ultimate power is the only true currency."
Konan watched him, the worry in her heart deepening, but she said no more. Since Yahiko's death and Nagato's full embrace of the Rinnegan's power, his personality had shifted dramatically. The change was so profound it had taken Konan months to adjust.
Not long after, Uchiha Obito returned. He led Nagato—still pierced by the black receiver rods—deeper into the cavern system. Konan watched the heavy stone door seal shut behind them, her anxiety a tight knot in her chest.
Two hours passed.
The door groaned open.
The sound that followed was not the scrape of a wheelchair or the drag of crippled legs, but the confident, brisk cadence of footsteps.
Under Konan's astonished gaze, Nagato emerged from the chamber.
His crimson hair seemed brighter, fuller. His once skeletal frame had filled out, muscles restored, skin healthy. He looked not just healed, but revitalized, in better condition than before his injuries.
"Nagato!" Konan rushed forward. "How do you feel?"
"Konan." A genuine, powerful smile spread across Nagato's face. "I feel better than I have in years. Stronger than before the incident."
"The effect of Hashirama's cells... is this potent?" Konan found it difficult to believe.
"It is," Nagato confirmed. He took several firm strides forward, clenching his fists, feeling the surge of vitality. "More potent than I dared imagine."
"And, Konan, watch." His hands flew through a sequence of seals.
Crack.
The hard stone floor split. A green sapling shot up from the fissure, growing with impossible speed into a tree three men tall within seconds.
"Wood Release?!" Konan's eyes widened in shock, then delight. "To gain such an ability unexpectedly..."
"It was not unexpected," Nagato corrected, shaking his head. "Madara anticipated it. After the procedure, he immediately began instructing me in Wood Release ninjutsu."
"He... taught you?" Konan's surprise returned, laced with suspicion. "Such kindness? Is he not afraid you will grow beyond his control?"
"His motives are hardly pure," Nagato said with a cold sneer. "He wants me to master Wood Release swiftly. He mentioned he has a plan to move against Konoha soon and will require my strength."
"A move against Konoha?" Konan's brow furrowed. "Konoha's power is immense, with nearly ten shinobi of Kage-level. Isn't this too reckless? Nagato, you should find a way to refuse. You are not yet at your peak. We cannot let hatred dictate our actions."
"Do not worry, Konan," Nagato's voice softened slightly. "I am not blinded by vengeance. If Madara's plan proves unfeasible, I will not follow him to Konoha on a suicide mission."
Hearing this, Konan allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Her greatest fear was that Nagato's grief for Yahiko would drive him to seek revenge at any cost.
Konoha. The Uchiha Clan Head's residence.
"Itachi." Uchiha Fugaku stood with his arms crossed, looking down at his son with a grave, expectant expression.
"Father."
Though only four years old, Uchiha Itachi possessed a preternatural calm. His demeanor was that of someone far older, his dark eyes meeting Fugaku's serious gaze without a flicker.
"Itachi, beginning tomorrow, you will report to our clan's Shentian Biologics research institute every three days," Fugaku instructed. "Follow their directions precisely."
"I understand, Father," Itachi replied with a firm, solemn nod.
The purpose, of course, was for Itachi to begin the regimen of the newly developed Sublimation Elixir. With production capped at roughly forty doses per cycle, every recipient was chosen with extreme care. The elixir's effects were universal, beneficial for individuals of any age.
(End of Chapter)
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