Indra

But now, as Hagoromo Otsutsuki's words—"This world is about to repeat its mistakes and be utterly destroyed"—echoed in his ears, the unbreakable conviction in Madara's heart developed its first fine cracks.

The Infinite Tsukuyomi required the world to still exist, and the people he wanted to protect to still be alive. If the Shinobi World turned to ash, if Izuna vanished before his eyes once more, if even the ground on which "peace" rested ceased to exist, then that so-called eternal dream would be nothing more than an absurd joke with no one left to entrust it to.

He suddenly opened his eyes. The purple gleam of his Rinnegan sharpened as his gaze cut through the battlefield's smoke and settled on the Black Susanoo Armor standing between heaven and earth.

Its ten-thousand-meter frame blotted out the sky. Dark red patterns on its armor looked like blood-red brands. At the Susanoo's brow, Uchiha Genki's crimson Nine Magatama Sharingan burned with an anger capable of destroying the world.

That chakra pressure, powerful enough to crush mountains and tear apart heaven and earth, and that despairing aura, mingled with the destruction of an entire plane, were no idle threats. This boy truly had the power to reduce the Shinobi World to nothing.

Madara slowly turned his head. Hashirama Senju stood not far away.

His green hair whipped in the gale, and pale green markings from Sage Mode covered his face. In the eyes that had once fought him for half a lifetime and stood alongside him to protect the Shinobi World, there was no hostility toward a rival, no resentment over the past—only the weight and resolve of protecting it together in the face of the world's destruction.

Hashirama seemed to have seen through his thoughts long ago. The moment their eyes met, no words were needed, no complicated probing. Only the understanding forged across decades of grievances quietly passed between them.

Madara drew a deep breath. The tangled emotions surging in his chest—his complicated feelings toward Hashirama, his desire to protect Izuna, his obsession with the Shinobi World, his fear of its destruction—all were forcibly suppressed. His knuckles turned white with the strain, and his joints gave a faint creak.

He had spent his whole life entangled with Hashirama, loving and fighting him, hating his "naivety" and respecting his "steadfastness";

resenting fate's cruel tricks, yet cherishing the days they had stood side by side.

But this time, for Izuna, for the Shinobi World he had once wanted to "save" with his own hands, and so that all his convictions and everything he sought to protect would not come to nothing—he chose to stand alongside this man once more.

"Hashirama." Madara's voice was low and hoarse, heavy with the passage of years yet more resolute than ever. Each word seemed forced out from his chest. "The Infinite Tsukuyomi... can wait."

Hashirama Senju jolted, his pupils contracting. Then an incredulous light burst into his eyes. His tense face instantly relaxed, and the corners of his mouth rose uncontrollably in a pure smile, freed of all defensiveness and resentment.

He gave a firm nod, his voice loud and strong as it crossed the divide of decades and grievances. "All right!"

One word carried the weight of too much history. It dispelled a lifetime of hatred and bound the two men, who stood at the pinnacle of the Shinobi World, together on the same side once more.

After a brief silence, long-suppressed gasps of astonishment and relief erupted across the battlefield. Everyone breathed a little easier at this historic reconciliation, and hope of standing against the world-ending crisis flared anew. With Hashirama and Madara fighting together, perhaps they really could stop that terrifying boy.

But this hope lasted only a moment before a silent figure crushed it completely.

It was Indra.

The Sage of Six Paths' eldest son, ancestor of the Uchiha Clan, a soul who spent his life chasing power and recognition, with arrogance and pride etched into his very being.

Ever since he had emerged from the rift between reincarnations, he had stood silently to one side, the cold chakra around him like a frozen abyss, without the slightest ripple. He was like a stone statue looking down on all living things, indifferent to everything, as though this crisis that threatened the Shinobi World's survival had nothing to do with him.

But now, he slowly raised his feet and began walking, step by step, toward the top of the Ten-Tails' head.

There was no murderous intent to shake the heavens, no fervent desire to fight, no unnecessary movement or words—only silent footsteps, resolute and cold. Each step on empty air seemed to land on everyone's heart, crushing the little hope that had just risen.

Everyone's gaze froze on him. The relief and astonishment on their faces were instantly replaced by utter shock and fear.

Hagoromo Otsutsuki's face turned deathly pale. The Six Paths chakra around him roiled violently, and the usually steady voice in which he shouted was wrapped in desperate urgency and fury. "Indra! What are you doing?! Come back!"

Asura also turned sharply, disbelief filling his eyes. He instinctively stepped forward, his voice urgent with his plea. "Brother! Have you gone mad?! He's our common enemy!"

Hashirama Senju, Madara Uchiha, the four Hokage, all the resurrected shinobi, every member of the Allied Forces... Everyone stood rooted to the spot, their hearts gripped by an invisible hand so tightly they forgot how to breathe.

They watched helplessly as Indra walked step by step toward the Black Susanoo Armor, toward the boy who had declared he would destroy everything—Uchiha Genki.

Indra didn't look back or heed anyone's shouts and pleas, as though everything behind him were nothing but insignificant dust.

He walked silently until he reached Uchiha Genki, standing shoulder to shoulder with the ten-thousand-meter Black Susanoo Armor.

The Black Susanoo lowered its head slightly. The crimson gaze of its Nine Magatama Sharingan met Indra's proud, cold eyes in a silent standoff. They exchanged no words, yet some inexplicable resonance passed between them.

The wind stopped. The cracks in the earth ceased spreading, and the Ten-Tails' roar fell silent. At that moment, the entire Shinobi World sank into a silence even more deathly and terrifying than when Uchiha Genki had first appeared.

No one knew why the Uchiha Clan's ancestor, the Sage of Six Paths' eldest son, would approach their common enemy at a moment when the Shinobi World's survival hung in the balance;

no one knew whether that step marked a resonance of fate or the greatest betrayal the Shinobi World had ever seen.

"What? You're not standing with your father?"

Watching Indra stand silently at his side, Uchiha Genki spoke at last. His voice remained cold, though it carried a faint, barely perceptible mockery, and the gaze of his Nine Magatama Sharingan wavered slightly.