On the border of the Land of Grass, in a natural cavern several hundred meters underground.
There was no light here, only the weak, eerie dark-purple chakra glow radiating from the massive Gedo Mazo, illuminating the root systems writhing like veins on the cave walls.
Madara Uchiha—or rather, his withered shell, barely kept alive by the life-force pumped in from the statue—sat on a stone throne.
Several tubes connected him to the Mazo; every breath he took was accompanied by the sound of flowing liquid, like a broken set of bellows.
A black shadow seeped silently from the rock wall, condensing into a bizarre, half-black, half-white humanoid shape.
"Lord Madara." Black Zetsu's voice was raspy and low, carrying an almost imperceptible trace of fatigue. "The news is confirmed."
Madara's eyelid twitched slightly. The blood-red light in his single eye had dimmed significantly, yet it remained piercing. "Speak."
"The Cloud front is a total rout," Black Zetsu said slowly. "The Third Raikage is dead, his son Ay is dead, and the Jinchuriki Killer Bee is critically injured and captured. The Cloud forces have suffered over 60% casualties and have fully retreated to the Land of Lightning."
A brief, heavy silence fell over the cave.
Only the low, heartbeat-like pulsing of the Gedo Mazo echoed.
"...The boy did it?" Madara's voice was devoid of emotion.
"Yes." Black Zetsu paused. "Reports indicate that Saiki Shiroya only made two moves. The first strike deleted a Tailed Beast Bomb and crippled the Eight-Tails. The second... executed the Third Raikage. During the subsequent pursuit, he killed the Raikage's son, Ay, and slaughtered over three hundred men of the Cloud's rearguard."
The corners of Madara's mouth slowly curled into an arc.
It wasn't anger or apprehension.
It was... excitement.
"Two strikes..." he muttered to himself. "Two years ago, when he fought my Shapeshifting Clone, he won, but he had to struggle. He reached his limit... and now..."
"The speed of his growth has exceeded all projections," Black Zetsu added. "Sensory ninja on site reported that his chakra—or rather, that energy—has completely departed from the category of 'Ninja.' It is no longer chakra; it is something more primordial."
Madara slowly closed his eye.
He was remembering.
Remembering the battle from two years ago.
That white blade-light, the power to shatter Susanoo and annihilate all ninjutsu, the "Sage Art" aura that stood above standard chakra.
He had known then that this boy was the greatest variable in his plan.
That was why he had used the clone, attempting to crush him.
And the result?
The clone was cut down, his own body took a hit, Nagato was nearly killed, and the Nine-Tails' chakra was almost entirely siphoned away.
And now, the boy had grown even stronger.
So strong that even Tailed Beasts and Kage were just ants he could crush at will.
"Lord Madara," Black Zetsu whispered. "Should we adjust the plan? Saiki's existence is now a critical threat to the Eye of the Moon—"
"No." Madara cut him off, his open eye flashing with a mixture of madness and cold logic. "Quite the opposite... his strength proves the existence of the Six Paths' power."
"Mm?" Black Zetsu, who knew the actual truth, was helpless. These are two different things, old man.
"Such a powerful Sage Art," Madara continued, his tone enthusiastic despite his state. "If I could obtain that power... no, if I can integrate it into the Eye of the Moon plan..."
His withered fingers trembled slightly. Not with fear, but with hunger.
"However," Black Zetsu reminded him. "He is too strong. All our current assets are insufficient to oppose him."
"That is why we need chess pieces." Madara's voice turned cold. "We need pieces that can pin him down, distract him... or perhaps, pieces that can find the weakness in his armor."
Black Zetsu was silent for a heartbeat. "You mean... Obito Uchiha?"
"Obito is a good boy." Madara's tone carried a hint of amusement. "Simple, persistent, and deeply in love with that little girl, Rin Nohara... Most importantly, he has the seeds of darkness in his heart."
"What do you intend to do?"
A cruel smirk touched Madara's lips. "The best catalyst is always 'Loss.' But if one loses too completely, they might just break. So... we must let him simmer in the agony between 'about to obtain' and 'absolute loss'."
He paused, slowly revealing his plot:
"Let Rin Nohara lose her purity to Saiki."
The White Zetsu half of the creature spoke up: "But Lord Madara, Saiki is already surrounded by women—Tsunade, Kushina, Nono'u, even Tsume Inuzuka... He might not even be interested in a teenage girl."
"He doesn't need to be interested," Madara sneered. "I only need Obito to believe it happened. And besides... according to our intel, Rin Nohara does indeed harbor special feelings for Saiki. It is far from impossible."
Black Zetsu understood. "You want to use Obito's jealousy and possessiveness to detonated the darkness in his soul?"
"More than that." A sharp glint flashed in the Rinnegan. "Saiki's power is too pure, too transcendent. Such a person often becomes indifferent to the 'emotions' of those around him. But those people... they will become his 'anchors,' and thus, his 'weakness'."
"You want to shake him by hurting those close to him?"
"No, not a direct injury," Madara shook his head. "That would just trigger a direct retaliation. No... I want the people around him to become the source of agony for others. Let Obito hate him, hate Konoha, hate this entire world... and then he will become my enforcer with a grateful heart."
He looked at Black Zetsu. "Accelerate the timeline. Before this shell of mine completely fails, Obito must fall to the dark side."
"As you command." Black Zetsu bowed and slowly merged back into the floor.
Inside the cave, only Madara and the Gedo Mazo remained.
Madara raised his withered hand, looking at his skin which resembled dry tree bark.
"Saiki..." he whispered. "You have walked a different path... a path beyond the ninja. But can that road truly lead to immortality? Or will you, like Hashirama, find yourself ultimately trapped in a cage of emotion?"
He closed his eyes, beginning to channel his remaining chakra to maintain his flickering life.
Time was running out.
On the shores of the Eastern Sea, the front line between Konoha and the Mist snaked along the coast.
The terrain was complex—cliffs, jagged reefs, tidal flats, and dense forests provided the perfect stage for shinobi ambushes, making the war here particularly brutal and chaotic.
Konoha's defense was built into the mountains, with a base located in a natural bay backed by cliffs, making it easy to defend but hard to escape.
But right now, the air in the camp was suffocating.
Because the Mist's offensive was relentless.
Yagura Karatachi, the youthful-looking Jinchuriki of the Three-Tails, personally oversaw the front.
His command was cold and ruthless. The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist had all been deployed, along with two elite Anbu units. In just three days, they had launched seven massive raids.
The Uchiha clan, acting as the primary force on this front, bore the brunt of the pressure.
Clan Head Fugaku Uchiha had led from the front, his Mangekyo Sharingan fully active. He had clashed with Yagura three times, repelled the Seven Swordsmen twice, and executed seventeen Mist Jonin.
But the cost was high.
He had been severely wounded.
At high noon, a white cloud descended from the sky, landing in the center of the Konoha camp.
The sentry ninjas were initially startled, but upon seeing the face of the man on the cloud, their shock turned to joy.
"It's... it's Lord Saiki!"
Saiki dispelled the Auspicious Cloud and looked around.
The state of the camp was worse than he imagined—tents were shredded, wounded were everywhere, and the air was thick with blood and medicine.
The ninjas wore expressions of total exhaustion and anxiety; they had clearly been through hell.
"Lord Saiki!" An Uchiha Jonin ran over, dropping to one knee. "Thank you for the reinforcements!"
Saiki recognized him—Tekka Uchiha, Fugaku's right-hand man. He had been involved in the Nine-Tails incident two years ago but had been spared and protected by Fugaku.
"Stand up," Saiki said. "Where is Clan Head Fugaku?"
Tekka rose, his face heavy with sorrow. "The Clan Head is in the medical wing... his injuries are catastrophic."
"Lead the way."
The medical wing was located deep inside a cavern at the rear of the camp, chosen for safety.
As Saiki entered, he found the space packed with wounded. The sound of groans, suppressed sobs, and the frantic orders of medics made the cave feel like a portrait of the underworld.
In the deepest section, a single area was partitioned off by a cloth curtain.
Tekka pulled the curtain aside, and Saiki stepped in.
Fugaku Uchiha was lying on a simple cot, covered by a thin sheet. His face was ashen, and his eyes were tightly shut.
His wife, Mikoto Uchiha, was at his bedside. Her eyes were red and swollen; she had clearly been weeping for hours.
Two medical ninjas were currently checking his vitals, their brows furrowed in a hard knot.
"Saiki-kun!" Mikoto saw him as if catching a lifeline. She stood up immediately. "Please... please save Fugaku!"
Because of Kushina, they had been acquainted during his brief time in the village.
"Let me see," Saiki said, moving to the bedside.
The two medics made room. One reported in a low voice: "The Clan Head's injuries are primarily in the waist and abdomen. He was impaled by Kushimaru Kuriarare using the 'Longsword: Nuibari'. The wound is deep, damaging the internal organs and... the meridians."
Saiki pulled back the sheet.
Fugaku's torso was bare, his waist wrapped in thick bandages that were already soaked with dark red blood.
Saiki extended a finger, pressing it gently near the wound.
He wove no signs, used no medical ninjutsu.
But his fingertip ignited with a faint, microscopic white glow.
It wasn't chakra; it was an awareness similar to Divine Sense—a perception of the essence of life that transcended sight, sound, and touch.
The glow seeped into Fugaku's body.
Saiki's "gaze" pierced through skin, bone, and organs, seeing the reality deep within the injury.
It was indeed severe.
Nuibari was a vicious weapon. Upon penetration, it released a specialized chakra that shredded the surrounding meridians and tissues, making regeneration nearly impossible.
Fugaku's liver and kidneys were damaged, and his intestines had been pierced. For a top-tier medic, these were difficult but treatable.
But the true problem...
Saiki's perception stopped at a specific junction in Fugaku's lower abdomen.
There, the primary meridians governing male reproductive function converged.
And at this moment, those meridians had been completely obliterated by Nuibari's chakra.
It wasn't a temporary injury. it was a permanent, foundational destruction.
Even if the wound closed, even if Fugaku returned to health, that area... would never function again.
Saiki withdrew his finger, the white glow vanishing.
He looked at Mikoto, then at Tekka and the two medics.
"The wounds are severe, but his life is not in danger," Saiki said slowly. "The internal damage can be repaired, his stamina will return, and even his chakra won't be significantly affected."
Mikoto let out a breath of relief, but Saiki's next words made her face go pale.
"However," Saiki's voice was calm—calm to the point of being cruel. "The critical meridians in his lower abdomen have been totally destroyed. This means..."
He paused, delivering the final diagnosis:
"Fugaku Uchiha will likely be permanently impotent and infertile from this day forward."
"What?!" Mikoto gasped, clutching her mouth as tears erupted from her eyes.
Tekka's face also shifted into a mask of shock. "Lord Saiki... are... are you certain?"
"I am," Saiki said. "The damage is fundamental. With current medical ninjutsu... it cannot be repaired."
The two medics shared a look of helplessness; they had suspected as much but hadn't dared to voice it.
The partitioned area fell into a graveyard silence.
Only the sound of Mikoto's muffled sobbing remained.
Saiki looked at the unconscious Fugaku, and a thought flickered through his mind—
In the original story, Sasuke Uchiha was the second son of Fugaku and Mikoto.
But now, Fugaku had lost his ability to procreate.
So... Sasuke is gone. He would never be born.
The thought was a mere flicker, failing to cause even a ripple in his heart.
The trajectory of history had been rewritten long ago.
From the moment he arrived, from the moment he killed Danzo and Hiruzen, from the moment he saved Kushina and altered the Nine-Tails incident... the so-called "original story" was nothing more than an irrelevant reference.
Whether Sasuke existed or not was meaningless to the current Saiki.
His only consideration was how to end this war and make the Mist pay the price.
"Lord Saiki..." Tekka's voice was raspy. "Is there truly no way for the Clan Head?"
Saiki shook his head. "Not by my hand, at least."
He was telling the truth.
His power was designed for combat and annihilation, not life and restoration. It had little effect on others' biological structures.
He could cleave a Susanoo, but he couldn't re-knit a shattered meridian.
Perhaps Tsunade's mastery could attempt it, but the odds... were infinitesimal.
Mikoto collapsed onto her chair beside the bed, clutching Fugaku's hand as her tears flowed silently.
Saiki looked at her—a beautiful wife reduced to such a tragic state—then back at the unconscious Fugaku. Finally, he spoke one last sentence:
"Rest and recover. I'll handle the Mist."
He turned and stepped through the curtain.
Behind him, Mikoto's suppressed wailing filled the air. What exactly was she crying for?