The darkness of the cave flickered with torchlight as the rough-hewn walls echoed Obito's shallow breathing.
He sat, slumped, his hands trembling faintly—still not from exhaustion.
Madara Uchiha, aged but still towering in presence, leaned forward, his one visible eye narrowing with interest.
Before him, kneeling on the stone floor, was Obito—his body scratched, dirtied, and battered—but his gaze was sharper than ever. Mangekyō Sharingan spiralling in both eyes, still fresh. Still burning.
Obito's voice broke the silence first.
"I was... almost there-" he said, more to himself than the others. "I saw Kakashi—he was bleeding, collapsing. Rin... she was barely conscious. And then..."
His voice trailed.
The air grew heavier.
"Then he appeared."
Madara's brow twitched.
Black Zetsu's head turned sharply.
Obito looked up, eyes wide—not in reverence, not in awe, but in lingering fear.
"A giant. Cloaked in gold and red. I didn't sense him approach... he was just—there. As if the world had forgotten to announce his presence."
His fists clenched against his knees.
"The enemy didn't even react. They had no time. He didn't use jutsu. No hand signs. Just… power. They were gone in seconds. Crushed. Torn. Burned by the force of his mere movement."
He exhaled shakily, his voice growing fainter.
"Even with my Sharingan… I saw nothing. I awakened my Mangekyō at that moment from sheer desperation. I thought I'd finally see the truth of the world—but when his eyes met mine..."
Silence. His head hung low.
"My lungs locked. My heart stopped. I couldn't even breathe. It felt like standing before death incarnate. Not like your presence, Madara… but something older. Something worse."
Madara's eye narrowed again, more serious now. He leaned back into his throne of stone.
Black Zetsu, oddly subdued, stepped forward from the shadows and spoke.
"I saw it too."
Obito looked up again, almost pleading for validation. "I'm telling you… even if we had a thousand shinobi—no, even if you yourself had come—"
"Enough."
Madara's deep voice silenced them.
He tapped a finger against the armrest of his stone seat, his expression unreadable.
"You're afraid. That much is clear."
He turned his gaze to Zetsu.
"Tell me, between this… stranger, and me—who would win?"
Zetsu hesitated. For once, his answer wasn't instant.
But then he gave a familiar, practiced grin.
"Madara-sama, if you were at your peak? You'd destroy him with the flick of your finger."
Madara chuckled—a low, aged laugh filled with arrogance.
"Hmph. That's what I thought."
But even so… something behind his eye shimmered. Doubt?
Madara stood and turned toward the deeper chambers.
"He may be powerful. But this world forgets quickly. Gods fall. Even Hashirama did."
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Proceed with the plan. We don't have time to concern ourselves with passing anomalies."
Zetsu bowed.
"Hai, Madara-sama."
Obito, however, lingered on the floor, eyes still staring into a memory.
His Sharingan flickered.
That golden figure… the one who moved like war given form…
He wasn't convinced. Not yet.
Because in his gut, Obito knew—
That thing wasn't fading anytime soon.
-----------------------
The cavern was dim, save for the faint orange flicker of torches lining the walls. Shadows danced across jagged stone and ancient roots that pulsed like veins beneath the earth.
Madara sat still, his breath slow and composed, as if the world outside was beneath his notice.
Obito leaned silently against the far wall, arms crossed, Mangekyō dormant—but eyes alert. He hadn't spoken since the previous night, when the image of that golden colossus had burned itself into his memory.
Then—
A sudden burst of movement.
From the corridor beyond, a figure emerged from ground—wet, white, and frantic.
White Zetsu.
He moved forward, his strange form writhing as it solidified.
"Madara-sama!" he called, voice urgent.
Madara opened one eye slowly, his gaze cold.
"Report."
"A major movement. Western front. Less than 10 minutes ago, an alliance force struck—Tsuchikage Onoki, the Third Raikage, and the Two-Tails jinchūriki leading the charge. Thousands of shinobi. It was a full-scale invasion. Caught Konoha's border forces completely off guard."
Obito blinked—his stomach tightened. He knew where that front was. That was—
Zetsu continued. "Elemental assaults, air and land formations. Shock-and-drown tactics. Konoha was spread thin, and they didn't see it coming."
"Casualties?" Madara asked, tone level.
"Heavy. Their defensive line is all but shattered. There's some resistance, but... unless something changes, they're going to be overrun."
Silence.
Obito's jaw clenched behind a neutral expression. He looked away, masking his anxiety.
"So they made their move early…" Madara muttered, eyes narrowing. "Hm. A union of three nations. And they didn't even wait for the Sand or Mist to respond."
"Seems like they wanted to take out Konoha's western position fast," Zetsu said.
"Cripple their defenses, make a statement. The kind of hit that can shift war tides in days."
Madara leaned back into his throne of stone, the edges of his cloak brushing the ground.
"Desperate, then."
Obito still said nothing.
But behind his silence, his thoughts screamed.
'Kakashi… Rin… Sensei…You're all there, aren't you?
Please be alive.'
White Zetsu turned toward him, his tone almost amused.
"They say the Raikage was at the front line personally. That he tore through the defense squads like thunder. Onoki used Dust Release. Even the Two-Tails is fighting in her transformed state."
Obito stiffened slightly.
'That level of force…'
Madara studied the reactions, then gave a quiet order:
"Keep watching. Don't interfere. Observe."
White Zetsu nodded.
"Right. I'll send another clone to the forward lines. If something shifts… we'll know."
With that, the creature dissolved into the stone and vanished.
Silence returned to the cave.
Obito didn't speak.
But his eyes betrayed the war he was losing inside.
And still—Madara noticed.
----------------------------
The cave was dim, lit only by the slow burn of torches embedded in the ancient stone walls. Ash and smoke from distant volcanoes filtered into the air, thickening the silence. Obito stood just a few paces from the great throne of stone where Uchiha Madara sat, draped in shadows like a monument to a forgotten age.
It had been nearly twenty minutes since they last received intel on the battle at Konoha's western front.
Obito's body was still, but his breath came faster now. Uneven. His heart pounded against his ribs.
'Why haven't they reported back?'
He told himself he didn't care.
He told himself it didn't matter.
But his fists clenched tighter at his sides.
The last report said the Tsuchikage, the Raikage, Two-Tails, and thousands of enemy shinobi had launched an all-out attack.
And Minato-sensei was stationed there.
And Rin...
Then,
Fwsshh—
The earth at the far end of the cave trembled and split.
From it, White Zetsu and Black Zetsu emerged.
But the air changed.
White Zetsu—usually the first to blabber or make crude jokes—was stone-faced. Pale, sweating, and visibly shaken. His lips moved slightly, but no words came out. He avoided eye contact.
Black Zetsu moved in front of him, the silence he carried almost louder than words.
Obito felt it immediately.
Something had gone wrong.
Madara opened his eyes—cold, timeless Sharingan flaring dimly in the firelight.
His voice was calm, unaffected.
"What happened."
A command, not a question.
White Zetsu's lips trembled, but still no sound came.
Black Zetsu exhaled sharply and spoke in a grave tone.
"Things were looking... extremely dire for Konoha. The Raikage, Tsuchikage, Two-Tails, and nearly four thousand troops launched an overwhelming surprise attack. The frontlines were about to collapse."
Obito's breath caught in his throat.
His eyes flicked downward for a split second.
He said nothing.
But he feared the worst.
Madara, however, remained unimpressed.
"Hmph. So Konoha was crushed, then. As expected. Not even worth observing further."
He leaned back slowly, eyes half-lidded in boredom.
Black Zetsu shook his head once.
"…Until he arrived."
That made Madara pause.
One eye opened.
"…He?"
Black Zetsu didn't delay.
"The one Obito encountered… the golden giant."
Obito's breath hitched.
Madara's eyes narrowed in faint recognition.
"…That man again. Radahn."
He scoffed, brushing invisible dust from his robe.
"So he fought? Hn. A little resistance before the inevitable. Without Hashirama… or me… there's little hope for them."
"He fought alone."
The words dropped like a blade.
Madara's expression stopped cold.
"Alone?"
His voice sharpened. His body straightened slightly.
"…So he sacrificed himself?"
Black Zetsu, now fully serious, looked Madara in the eye.
"No. He… won."
Silence.
Obito turned his head sharply toward Black Zetsu, eyes wide behind the mask.
Madara stared at him blankly, as though unsure he'd heard right.
"Explain."
Black Zetsu nodded.
"Radahn appeared before the front collapsed. He told Minato to evacuate the remaining forces while he stayed behind. Minato obeyed."
"Raikage was the first to strike. His fastest move. His lightning chakra cloaked him from head to toe. He came with the force of a thunder god—aimed directly at Radahn's throat. But… nothing happened. His strike landed—on Radahn's bare neck—and his fingers shattered. Broke backward. Bloodied. Then Radahn grabbed his throat."
Madara raised an eyebrow.
"Crushed him mid-sentence. Snapped his neck like a twig. Then tossed his body aside."
Even Madara paused.
Zetsu continued.
"The allied forces panicked. Hundreds of jutsu—combined. Elemental barrages. Dust Release. A full-powered tailed beast bomb from Two Tails itself. The sky lit up like a second sun."
Madara muttered, voice grave,"Without Izanagi, or Susanoo, or space-time escape… even I would've taken damage from something like that."
Zetsu nodded grimly.
"He didn't dodge. He didn't shield. He took it. When the smoke cleared… he was still standing. Untouched."
Madara's eyes narrowed.
"Then it began—his counterattack. He uttered some words: 'Juryoku Mahou: Collapsing Stars.' That was it."
"Black-purple orbs formed around him. No chakra signature. No hand signs. But everything—everything—was pulled into them. Not just bodies. Trees, air, the land itself… even our White Zetsu units stationed nearby were drawn in."
White Zetsu shivered beside him.
"It wasn't just physical," Black Zetsu said darkly.
"It destroyed the soul. The White Zetsus who got caught in it… their spiritual essence was torn apart. They didn't regenerate. They're gone. Not dead. Erased."
Madara said nothing. His eyes sharpened into a blade-like focus.
Zetsu continued.
"Two-Tails tried to flee. It threw other shinobi into the orbs to slow them. Onoki fled skyward. Still, the battlefield was levelled. Nearly four hundred shinobi—gone. Only the Two-Tails and Onoki remained."
Madara muttered coldly,"So. How did it end?"
Zetsu's gaze turned grim.
"He removed the Tailed Beast… without a scratch on her. No death. No chakra fluctuations. As if the beast was never part of her."
Madara's jaw visibly clenched.
"Onoki lost his chakra entirely. His chakra—gone-removed. He couldn't even stand. He surrendered. They both did."
Silence followed.
Black Zetsu looked up and said the final words:
"Radahn did it alone."
"In less than fifteen minutes, the battlefield was silent. Four thousand shinobi… gone. Raikage dead. Tsuchikage surrendered. Two-Tails removed from its jinchūriki—without any chakra fluctuation. No hand signs. No seals. Nothing."
Madara sat forward now, chin resting on his clasped hands.
His Sharingan spun slowly, ominously.
Black Zetsu continued:
"When Minato returned, Radahn stood alone in a cratered field. Only Onoki and Yugito remained, paralyzed. They never even fought back. Minato then brought all survivors to the fallback camp. Even Hiruzen arrived with reinforcements—but too late. It was already over."
White Zetsu finally found his voice.
Whispered. Broken.
"…He erased them. It wasn't even a fight."
Madara stared into the firelight.
And for the first time in decades, he said nothing.
Only his silence—and the faint tension in his brow—betrayed the truth:
This was no ordinary anomaly.
This was something he would have to consider.
Carefully.