Memories and a Clash, Kakashi Heavily Wounded

Madara stood at the very front, his arms folded across his chest. The cracks from the Impure World Reincarnation gleamed grayish-white beneath the moonlight. His gaze rested on Naruto, carrying a careless languor—as though the golden-glowing boy before him was not even worth taking seriously.

"Nine-Tails brat." Madara's voice drifted down from above, as calm as if he were commenting on the weather. "Your companions can barely stand. What are you still holding on for?"

Naruto pushed himself up from the ground. The gold on his right shoulder had dimmed, but the radiance of Kurama Link Mode gathered once more, nine tails slowly swaying behind him. His breathing was somewhat rushed, yet he did not retreat even half a step. His golden eyes were fixed on Madara's back, that gray-white, crack-covered body like an immovable mountain.

Guy stood beside Naruto, green Chakra vapor blazing up again, though his right leg trembled faintly. The unbroken battles had drained his strength, and the burden of the Eight Inner Gates was slowly eating away at his muscles. He said nothing, but his fists remained clenched, ready to charge at any moment.

Kakashi stood a little farther away, his right eye tightly shut and his left eye locked on Madara. His mind raced—Uchiha reflection, Rinnegan, Wood Dragon, Ten-Tails—every piece of information told him that the man before them had gone beyond anything they could handle. Yet he did not move. He was waiting for an opportunity, or a weakness.

Obito stood behind and to Madara's side, his face cut by three scars utterly expressionless. His gaze shifted away from Madara and settled on Kakashi.

Madara seemed to sense something. He did not turn around, but a trace of impatience entered his voice. "Obito, what are you dawdling for? Finish off the Nine-Tails and Eight-Tails.