"Let's move. We need to link up with a bigger force—otherwise, survival out here is a joke."
Raizen peered through the hollow of the tree, chakra humming steadily through his body. Enough to move, enough to fight. He glanced at Madara.
"Got it," he nodded, his frown softening. War had already taken so much from him. Only Izuna remained among his brothers; the rest were casualties he couldn't undo. The thought made his muscles tense, ready for anything.
"Rainy," Raizen muttered. They slipped from the tree hollow and dropped into the jungle, moving like shadows between trunks and undergrowth. The battlefield had stretched wide—scattered skirmishes, unpredictable threats.
Raizen knew the jungle held as many enemies as allies. Hyuga forces could spring from anywhere, just as easily as the Uchiha coalition could. Their survival now hinged on careful observation and ruthless instinct.
The two moved cautiously, each step measured. Leaves rustled, branches creaked, and Raizen's eyes flicked constantly, scanning. He gripped his kunai tight, the cold metal grounding him.
"Madara?"
A ninja clad in Uchiha colors dropped from a tree, startling both. Raizen and Madara froze, eyes narrowing. Every muscle coiled.
"I'm not your enemy," the Uchiha ninja said, voice calm but firm. His eyes glinted scarlet—the spinning pattern of the Sharingan catching the dappled light.
Madara relaxed slightly, stepping forward. Raizen, ever cautious, hesitated, his instincts screaming.
"That's…?" he murmured, frowning. "Madara, watch yourself!"
The Uchiha ninja's gaze snapped with sudden malice. He launched forward like lightning, a kunai aimed for Madara's chest.
"Stab!"
Madara twisted midair, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike. The blade slashed his clothing, grazing his skin. Scarlet streaks of blood ran down his side. Pain flared, but he gritted his teeth and pressed forward.
"Rasengan!"
Raizen didn't wait. Chakra coalesced in his hand, forming the iconic blue sphere. He leapt like a bird spreading wings, closing the distance.
Boom!
The Rasengan struck with crushing force. The Uchiha ninja was slammed into the ground, coughing blood. His eyes dimmed, losing their deadly shine.
Madara, wincing through his injuries, glared at Raizen. "Uchiha ninja…?"
Raizen scanned the area cautiously, muscles tense. "Controlled. Somebody's puppeting him. Whoever it is… they're nearby."
Madara's eyes narrowed, regret flashing across his face. He had seen the Sharingan and assumed safety, forgetting they were in a war zone crawling with manipulators and hidden threats.
Raizen noticed immediately. His caution had saved them both.
Madara clenched his fists, vowing silently: no more carelessness. No matter who stood before him, battlefield rules were absolute. Death didn't wait for mistakes.