The morning sun broke over the mountains, bathing Konoha Village in a veil of light golden mist. Birds chirped between the trees, and the streets were already coming alive with chatter, footsteps, and the low clang of smithies opening their shops.
But inside the Hokage Building, the air was heavy and tense.
Two of the most legendary shinobi in history, Senju Hashirama and Tobirama, had returned from their urgent diplomatic trip to the Land of Fire.
They hadn't even paused to rest.
No celebration. No reception. Just a rapid march straight into the conference hall.
And seated inside already, waiting with the serenity of someone who expected all this chaos from the start, was Uchiha Madara—arms folded, eyes sharp, sipping from a steel flask.
Beside him, calm and unreadable as always, stood Kai.
Tobirama stormed into the room like a thunderclap, his chakra flaring before he even crossed the threshold.
"YOU!"
His voice echoed off the stone walls, sharp as a blade and hot with fury.
"Uchiha Madara, do you have the faintest idea how much damage you've done?!"
His white hair trembled with rage. His finger pointed like the edge of a sword. There wasn't even the usual formality one would expect when confronting a figure as powerful—and as dangerous—as Madara.
And Madara?
He didn't even blink.
He glanced up from his flask and gave a sigh of mock weariness.
"Is it really that serious?"
His tone was casual, indifferent. As if the obliteration of an entire Hidden Village was something you dealt with between lunch and a nap.
Tobirama's fists clenched. The back of his neck pulsed with visible veins. "You wiped a major power off the map overnight. You've destabilized the entire shinobi world in one stroke!"
"You think that's just something we can brush off with a shrug?"
"Iwagakure may have been our rival, but they were part of the balance. And now every country is panicking—plotting! We spent years negotiating alliances, drawing treaties, and setting boundaries!"
"And now they're all asking the same question: Is Konoha planning to do this to us too?"
Madara took another sip from his flask and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Let them ask."
The contempt in his voice made Tobirama's jaw lock.
The Uchiha clan leader leaned back, placing one ankle over the other, perfectly at ease.
"If they fear us, that's good. Let them. Fear is the fastest way to peace."
Tobirama's chakra spiked again. "You really believe that?! That killing thousands in a single night is the same as building peace?!"
"You're not building peace, you're just setting the world on fire and calling it order!"
Madara's gaze didn't waver. "Order only comes after fire."
Tobirama was shaking now. "You want to fight the whole world? Do you think you're a god?"
Madara's lips curled into a dangerous smirk. "No. Gods ask for worship. I just ask for results."
At that moment, Hashirama stepped forward, his hand gently coming down on Tobirama's shoulder.
"Brother," he said gently. "Enough."
Tobirama looked at him in disbelief. "You're really just going to let this go?"
"I'm not," Hashirama said calmly. "But we don't resolve this by yelling. We resolve it by understanding."
He turned to Madara and took a breath.
"Madara, I know you too well to believe you acted without reason. But this—this was too far."
"You destroyed Iwagakure."
"You could've warned us. You could've waited."
Madara raised an eyebrow and tilted his flask. "I'll let you know next time."
Tobirama choked on his own rage. "You're—!"
Hashirama sighed and sat across from him. "Madara, I'm asking you—not just as the First Hokage, not just as a founding leader of Konoha—but as your friend. Why?"
"Why did you go so far?"
Madara's eyes darkened slightly.
He leaned forward, placing his flask down on the table.
"They provoked me."
"Two Iwagakure envoys showed up to Konoha under the pretense of diplomacy, but they were measuring us. One of them even asked to spar with me. As if I'd let anyone test the Uchiha without consequence."
"I saw through them. They weren't just envoys—they were spies. Maybe assassins. Either way, they died."
"And I decided it was time to remind the rest of the world that Konoha is not to be underestimated."
Silence.
Even Hashirama didn't immediately respond.
Madara reached into his cloak and pulled out a small scroll—charred at the edges. He tossed it on the table.
"That was found in one of their pouches. Written in cipher, but we cracked it. It was a list."
"A list of our defenses. Our clan compounds. Even guesses at our jutsu formations."
Tobirama's expression faltered, just for a moment.
Madara stood, slowly.
"I will not apologize for defending this village."
"You talk about alliances. You talk about treaties. But how many of those are real? How many villages are smiling to our faces while sharpening knives behind our backs?"
"You think you can negotiate safety? You can't."
"In this world, safety is something you take."
"And I—I will take it."
Hashirama looked up at him, eyes gentle but firm. "I understand your anger. But the way you chose—violence—"
Madara's tone was low. "Violence is the only language the world truly listens to."
Tobirama slammed the table. "You fool! Do you even understand what you've done?"
"You think the other countries are going to cower in fear? You've handed them a reason to ally against us!"
"Their fear will turn into unity. They'll form coalitions. Hidden Sand, Hidden Mist, Hidden Cloud, even the Rain. And they'll target Konoha—not you."
"Because they can't reach you."
"But they'll reach us."
"Because we're visible. We're vulnerable. We're human."
Madara narrowed his eyes. "Let them come."
"I'll crush them like I did to Iwagakure."
Tobirama rose. "You really don't get it. You could destroy ten more villages—and it would never be enough."
"You could slay armies, topple nations. But you can't kill an entire idea."
"You can't defeat fear. Not when you're the cause of it."
Madara's smile faded.
Tobirama's voice lowered, steady and sharp like a drawn blade.
"What happens when they stop fighting you head-on?"
"What happens when they target our children instead? Our supply lines? Our economy?"
"What happens when every road into Konoha is sabotaged, when every merchant fears bringing goods into our village?"
"What happens when the Daimyo of Fire starts to question our stability?"
"You say you'll protect the village—but how? Will you guard every wall? Every convoy? Every farmer in every field?"
Madara was silent.
Tobirama stepped forward, slow and deliberate.
"You can win battles. But you'll lose the war."
"A war that won't end in one year. Not even ten."
"A war without end."
"And even if you don't fall…"
He paused.
"What about the rest of us?"
"What about Konoha?"
"What about the Uchiha?"
Madara's eyes finally flickered.
A shadow of doubt, or perhaps pain.
He opened his mouth to speak—but no words came.
Because for all his strength, for all his unmatched jutsu and unparalleled combat experience, he had no answer to that.
Hashirama closed his eyes, as if trying to absorb the weight of the moment.
He knew both men were right in their own ways.
Madara's instincts weren't wrong. There were enemies in the shadows. There always had been.
But Tobirama's warnings weren't paranoia—they were experience.
He had seen how quickly public fear became hatred.
And once the world turned against them, it wouldn't matter how powerful they were.
The walls would close in.
The knives would come out.
And Konoha—their dream—might not survive it.
Hashirama finally spoke, voice quiet but commanding.
"We can't afford a war with the whole world, Madara."
"We built this village to stop that cycle. Not to become the center of it."
Madara turned away, staring out the wide window that overlooked the village.
"I didn't build this place to watch it rot from within."
"But I'll think on it."
And with that, he vanished into swirling smoke—gone in a single breath.
Tobirama exhaled hard.
"He'll think on it? That's his answer?"
Hashirama smiled faintly. "For Madara, that's as close to a concession as you're going to get."
And then, his smile faded.
"But you're right, Tobirama. This war… it won't be like the last."
"It won't be a flash of steel and a single field."
"It will be drawn-out. Strategic. Cold."
Tobirama nodded solemnly.
A war of attrition.
A war of hidden blades and poisoned wells.
A war of endless cost and no clear end.
A war without end.
And Konoha?
It wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
Not alone.