Madara Uchiha completed his sealing technique, and a thin membrane of light-purple chakra—bearing the Uchiha fan crest—covered Izuna's fatal chest wound.
It temporarily isolated the injury from the outside world and weakly bound the sliver of life that the system was slowly repairing.
After finishing, Madara did not rise immediately.
He remained kneeling beside Izuna, gazing at his younger brother's face with a complex expression.
Those crimson Sharingan eyes seemed to pierce through skin and bone, seeking the strange changes unfolding within.
Inside Izuna's body, Akira was torn between two emotions.
On one hand, there was relief—he had survived—and excitement that the system was working.
"I'm alive! I'm not going to die… for now!"
"This system has a weird name, but its effects are amazing!"
What did it feel like to have +10 to eye power?
"Will I see farther once I recover?"
"Can it give me X-ray vision?"
He couldn't help but imagine the possibilities.
On the other hand, there was the crushing pressure of Madara's unnervingly intense gaze.
"Brother Madara, stop staring at me like that…"
Akira shivered inwardly. "I know this situation is weird, but could you tone down that murderous aura?"
"Wait… it doesn't actually feel like killing intent anymore. Is that… curiosity? A thirst for knowledge?"
"It's making me really uncomfortable—especially since I can't even move!"
He tried calling out to the system in his mind, hoping for a user interface or manual, but only the rudimentary status panel appeared. No further response came.
"What a closed-off system—no customer service, no tutorials… nothing."
Akira grumbled silently.
Just then, Madara spoke, his voice low and strained:
"Izuna… if you can hear me… tell your brother… how do you feel?"
Akira was startled.
Feel?
How does it feel?
He answered instinctively in his thoughts:
"Like being stuffed into a secondhand robot on the verge of collapse. I can't move, can't speak—just watch helplessly."
"Also, Madara… your tears almost dripped into my mouth just now. A little hygiene, please!"
Madara's expression twisted into something unreadable.
He reflexively raised a sleeve to wipe his eyes and cheeks—his movements stiff, almost awkward.
Akira smirked internally: "He actually listened! This mind-link thing really works!"
Madara seemed to realize how uncharacteristically vulnerable he'd appeared. He lowered his hand abruptly, schooling his features back into severity—but the tips of his ears were faintly red.
He cleared his throat, attempting to redirect the conversation—and extract more information.
"You… you just mentioned 'Thousand Hands'…"
His voice turned icy. "It was Tobirama Senju… he did this to you."
"I will avenge you."
At the name Tobirama Senju, Akira's mind lit up like a fireworks display.
"Yes! That white-haired, squinty-eyed schemer!"
"Brother Madara, from now on, be extra careful around him!"
"His Flying Thunder God Slash is ridiculously fast—like, unfairly overpowered!"
"And his Water Release escapes? Practically free!"
"Next time you fight, don't get close. Use long-range firepower—blast him with Great Fire Annihilation, Phoenix Flower Jutsu, anything! Keep your distance!"
He enthusiastically dumped his entire "Tobirama Combat Guide" into his thoughts.
Madara listened to the oddly phrased, emotionally charged tactical advice. His brow furrowed deeper with each word.
Izuna… I hated the Senju, yes—but I never spoke like this. So crude. So agitated.
Terms like "schemer," "overpowered," and "blast that bastard" were utterly foreign to his brother's usual demeanor.
Yet… the underlying strategy was sound.
Avoiding close combat with Tobirama—master of Water Release and unpredictable space-time ninjutsu—and overwhelming him with long-range fire techniques was a viable approach.
It just felt deeply incongruous coming from Izuna's consciousness.
"Izuna… you…"
Madara hesitated. He wanted to ask, "What happened to you?"—but feared disturbing the fragile remnant of his brother's soul.
Unaware of Madara's turmoil, Akira pressed on, carried away by his "mentor" role:
"And Hashirama? That big, naive oaf? Easy to manipulate."
"Next time you see him, don't just yell about war. Try talking!"
"Say something like, 'Hashirama, why don't we stop fighting and build a village—to protect our brothers?'"
"He'd fall for it instantly!"
"Then the Uchiha win without shedding a drop of blood—"
He froze mid-thought.
"Oh crap. I just spoiled the entire founding of Konoha!"
Indeed, at the words "build a village," Madara flinched as if struck by lightning.
"A village… with the Senju?"
The idea tore through his grief-stricken mind like a ghost from childhood—back when he and Hashirama dreamed by the Naka River of a world where children wouldn't die in war.
That dream had been buried under blood, betrayal, and Izuna's corpse.
And yet… here it was, echoing from his own brother's voice.
"What… did you just say?" Madara whispered, voice trembling. "A village… with them?"
Inside, Akira panicked:
"No, no, no! Forget I said that!"
"I meant—pretend to agree! Then sabotage them later! All's fair in war, right?!"
But his frantic backpedaling couldn't smother the flicker rekindling in Madara's eyes—memories, pain, doubt… and something dangerously close to hope.
Madara fell silent.
After a long moment, he simply looked at Izuna—deeply, wordlessly—then stood.
"Rest," he said, voice regaining its calm surface, though something turbulent churned beneath. "I will handle what lies outside."
"You… need not worry."
He turned and strode out of the cave.
His posture remained proud, but the stiffness in his shoulders had softened—replaced by weight, contemplation… and the ghost of an old dream.
Watching him go, Akira felt a strange mix of guilt and exhilaration.
"Did I… just alter history?"
"Just by thinking too loudly?"
Meanwhile, his body warmed as the system's energy knit his wounds together. His eyes hummed with newfound clarity—+10 visual acuity was no joke.
"But… being alive? Yeah. That feels pretty damn good."
[Ding! The host's inner monologue has been perceived by key character 'Uchiha Madara,' triggering profound emotional resonance (shock, memory recall, ideological conflict, and belief destabilization).]
[Exposure Event Confirmed!]
[Reward Calculating…]
[Rewards Awarded: Partial motor restoration (fingers and toes), Fire Release: Great Fire Annihilation (Basic Proficiency), +30 Exposure Points!]
A flood of knowledge—hand seals, chakra flow, ignition points—suddenly filled Akira's mind. At the same time, he felt the faintest twitch in his fingertips.
It wasn't full mobility… but it was a start.
"Hah! I got stronger just by ranting?! Is this real life?!"
"Madara, come back! Let me complain some more!"
He glanced at the empty cave entrance, then at his barely-moving fingers.
"If I had to guess… Madara's next move would've been revenge or despair."
"But now? After hearing 'village' from 'Izuna'… who knows?"
"And if Black Zetsu finds out a 'dead man' is waking up…?"
Akira realized: he was a butterfly in a hurricane. And his wings had already begun to stir the storm.
"Alright. One step at a time."
"Priority one: heal fast."
"Priority two…" His eyes narrowed.
"Figure out how to turn this passive mind-link into an active skill."
"Being exposed without control? Not my style."
Outside, the low, resolute voice of Uchiha Madara rallying his clan echoed through the trees.