Although the blow didn't directly injure Uchiha Madara, the sheer force of the impact still sent him hurtling uncontrollably through a space gate and into unfamiliar surroundings.
He adjusted his posture mid-air and landed firmly on the ground, scanning the area with sharp vigilance as he tried to grasp his current situation.
Just then, a joyful voice rang out in his ears.
"Madara-sama!"
He turned toward the voice—and was momentarily stunned.
A girl, no more than ten years old, was sprinting toward him. But what shocked him most… was her eyes.
Rinnegan.
The very eyes he had longed for. The Rinnegan, the ultimate evolution of ocular power.
Even with all his strength and planning, Madara knew it would still take time before he could awaken such eyes.
Yet here they were—in the face of a mere child. A girl so young, bearing the Rinnegan? Unthinkable.
While he stood frozen in place, the girl had already reached him.
Her expression was brimming with excitement, as if she'd been reunited with a long-lost relative.
But Madara instinctively stepped back a few paces, keeping a measured distance between them.
His eyes narrowed in guarded suspicion. "Who are you? Why do you have the Rinnegan?"
The moment his question landed, the girl's expression fell.
She lowered her head, tears brimming in her eyes.
'Of course… This Madara-sama doesn't know me. The one I knew died at Isshiki's hands…' she thought bitterly.
Madara watched her quietly. Despite her sadness, he remained unmoved.
As someone forged in the crucible of the Warring States era, he had long grown accustomed to death, partings, and the cruelty of battle.
To him, a child over ten years old wasn't innocent—they were tools, potential soldiers.
And this girl didn't just have potential. She possessed a power that demanded reverence.
The Rinnegan.
It wasn't just a symbol of power, but a warning sign. A dangerous force in the hands of a stranger—especially a child—was a threat.
Even so, a faint flicker of confusion stirred in Madara's heart.
The strange man who had appeared earlier and this Rinnegan-bearing girl… were they connected?
Before he could untangle his thoughts, a voice—mocking and theatrical—echoed through the air like a ghost.
"Oh my… Am I interrupting your touching reunion?"
As the voice faded, Ōtsutsuki Isshiki stepped out from the space gate, wearing a playful smile like an audience member enjoying a drama unfold.
Madara's senses instantly sharpened.
The girl, too, shifted at the sight of Isshiki. Her whole demeanor changed—her body stiffened, and though her eyes burned with resolve, she trembled slightly. A silent struggle between courage and fear.
Madara noticed the reaction. She knew him. And judging by her expression, they were enemies.
That realization gave him a sliver of relief.
One Ōtsutsuki was already too much. If the girl had been his ally as well, today might've been the day he met the Sage of Six Paths in the afterlife.
Isshiki, meanwhile, was growing displeased.
He hadn't intervened right away because he wanted to savor the scene—a tragic, fated drama.
But Madara and the girl weren't playing their roles.
They weren't suffering, nor were they falling apart emotionally like he wanted.
He'd spared this girl time and time again precisely to make his otherwise dull existence a bit more interesting. Watching her struggle, shaping her fate… it had been entertaining.
But if she wouldn't follow the script—what was the point?
His smile faded. Impatience clouded his face, and a dangerous glint flashed in his eye.
The girl noticed it instantly. She knew what it meant.
Isshiki was about to attack.
Her eyes flickered. She clenched her fists—and made a decision.
She threw herself in front of Madara, arms outstretched like a shield.
"Madara-sama, go."
Her voice was steady, her eyes unwavering.
"You may not be the man I once knew… but this time, I'll stand in front of you."
Every word came from the depths of her heart. Years of running, of watching others fall—each memory cut like a blade.
And that wandering ninja's death not long ago… it had been the final straw.
Now, everything inside her had reached its limit.
She would end this here.
Even if it meant dying with him.
Madara stared at the girl before him, expression unreadable.
He didn't know her. He was certain.
But here she was, ready to die for him.
It stirred something in him. A memory. A presence.
Hashirama.
The old friend who had always stood at his side, never backing down.
'Hashirama… You wouldn't run away, would you?'
A storm of emotion surged in Madara's chest.
Pride. Regret. Confusion. Awe.
And in the end, it all turned into one thing—fighting spirit.
Uchiha Madara, had never been weaker than anyone.
He'd run before, yes—retreating during his encounter with Uchiha Hikaru, to preserve the Eye of the Moon Plan.
But now?
Would he let fear chain him down again?
He brushed the girl aside with one hand and let out a sharp scoff.
"I, Uchiha Madara, don't need a brat to cover my retreat!"
Then he turned his gaze to the smirking Isshiki.
"Come. Let us dance."
And with that, he moved.
"Wood Style: Wood Human Technique!"
A colossal wooden warrior erupted from the ground, towering over the earth.
Then—
"Armored Susanoo!"
With a roar that shattered the sky, a titan clad in armor and wielding a massive blade appeared beside the wooden giant.
"Let's begin!" Madara shouted, swinging his sword with devastating force.