"That's... the First's Wood Release!?" Nalong cried out in shock, genuinely stunned this time. He had fused with Hashirama cells and knew this power all too well! Madara's Wood Release might not have matched Hashirama's at his prime in scale, but its sharpness, domineering force, and effortless control all bore the unmistakable mark of the Uchiha! No ordinary cell transplant could achieve this! This was the result of truly mastering the power of Hashirama cells!
And that wasn't all! The light of Madara's Mangekyou Sharingan burned brighter. He raised his withered arm and pointed at the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path standing in the center of the cavern.
"Wake up!"
Bzzzz—!
The Demonic Statue's seemingly lifeless body suddenly trembled! Several of its nine tightly shut eyes snapped open! Eerie, terrifying light shone from them! A vast chakra, filled with destruction and hatred and powerful enough to freeze the soul, swept through the cavern like a tidal wave! The statue let out a silent roar, the tubes attached to its body writhed violently, and the entire space groaned beneath its oppressive presence!
Madara stood beneath the statue, his shriveled body looking incredibly small beside it. Yet his Mangekyou Sharingan seemed to be the very core controlling it all! Wood Release's vitality and the statue's deathly stillness—two utterly opposite yet equally terrifying powers—had somehow been brought together by him in a way that seemed almost contradictory!
"Now... do you believe me?" Madara's voice remained hoarse, but it carried the authority of one who held life and death in his hands. He slowly withdrew his power. The rapidly spreading trees stopped growing, the Demonic Statue's eyes gradually closed, and the suffocating pressure in the cavern slowly eased.
But using that power had clearly taken a heavy toll on Madara. He began coughing violently, his body hunched as if it might fall apart at any moment. The ashen pallor of death on his face deepened, and even his breathing became ragged. That display had hastened the end of his life.
Nalong stood rooted in place, his chest heaving, cold sweat beading on his temples. The "doubt" and "disdain" had vanished from his face, replaced by genuine, unmistakable "shock" and "horror." Could Wood Release be faked? Perhaps with some exceptionally rare kekkei genkai. Could the Mangekyou Sharingan be faked? Almost certainly not. But someone who possessed both the Uchiha's Mangekyou and the Senju's Wood Release, and could control a terrifying entity like the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path... In the entire history of the Shinobi World, who could that be but the legendary Madara Uchiha?!
"...Lord Madara..." Nalong's voice was dry, tinged with "awe." He slowly bowed his head. "I... Uchiha Nalong, was blind and failed to recognize you. I offended an elder of the clan! Please... please forgive me!" At that moment, he put on a suitably respectful and apprehensive act. Inside, though, he was calculating furiously: Madara really was at death's door. That display had drained his life! But the power he had left was still terrifying. Nalong had to extract every secret and resource from him before he died!
When Madara saw that Nalong had finally "believed" him and was acting "submissive," he seemed somewhat satisfied. He leaned against the stone chair, panting heavily. His voice grew even weaker, but his obsession and ideal remained undiminished. "Get up... I don't have much time left. I've clung to life not because I fear death, but to complete a great plan—a plan that can bring an end to this world of pain, war, and endless hatred: the Eye of the Moon Plan."
"The Eye of the Moon Plan?" Nalong stood up, wearing an appropriately "puzzled" and "curious" expression.
"Exactly." A fanatical light flickered in Madara's Mangekyou Sharingan. "You must have seen the suffering in this world with your own eyes. War rages without end, brothers turn against brothers, parents lose their children, and children lose their homes... Hatred spreads like a plague, with no end in sight. The wounds of the Second Ninja World War have yet to heal, and already the flames of the Third Ninja World War are rising. Konoha, Iwagakure, Hidden Cloud... Countless lives are lost in the games of power. What meaning can there be in a world like this?"
Madara's words seemed to hold a kind of magic, stirring up genuine fragments of memory in Nalong's mind: villages destroyed by war along the borders of the Land of Fire, the numb eyes of orphans who had lost their families, refugees fighting over a mouthful of food... The miserable scenes he had witnessed on patrol, and the weight and helplessness he had felt—they were real. A hint of deep pain and empathy showed on his face. It wasn't an act, or at least not entirely. He hated this chaotic world, rife with oppression and war, just as much.
Madara keenly caught that flicker of empathy and continued. "True, everlasting peace is a pipe dream in the real world. As long as people have desires and selfish interests, conflict will never end. So I'll create a world of dreams—a perfect world without pain, war, or loss! By gathering the Nine Tailed Beasts, reviving the Ten-Tails, becoming its jinchuriki, and then casting Infinite Tsukuyomi upon the moon, I'll send everyone in the world into an eternal, happy dream! There, everyone can realize their dreams and find true fulfillment and peace!"
Nalong listened in silence, inwardly scoffing. An eternal dream? It was nothing but mass hypnosis and a spiritual prison on a grand scale. Uploading everyone's consciousness into a virtual world, with their lives and deaths in someone else's hands—how was that peace? It was the ultimate deception and dictatorship!
Yet on his face, he showed ever-growing interest and longing. The level of power Madara described—gathering the Tailed Beasts, reviving the Ten-Tails, becoming its jinchuriki, and casting an illusion that would envelop the world—was indeed a godlike power capable of overturning the entire Shinobi World! It was the power Nalong craved deep down! Not to create some illusory peace, but to... take control! To control his own fate, the lives and deaths of others, and the entire Shinobi World! To unify the Shinobi World, end this damned era of chaos, and establish a powerful, orderly empire under his absolute rule! The so-called daimyo and the Kage system all deserved to be utterly crushed!
"A Ten-Tails Jinchuriki... like the Sage of Six Paths?" Nalong's voice carried a hint of "longing" that was almost impossible to detect.
"Correct." Madara affirmed it. His voice was weak, yet persuasive. "As the Ten-Tails Jinchuriki, you'll gain a world-shattering power like the Sage of Six Paths. Then the entire Shinobi World will kneel at your feet. The Five Great Nations, the Kage—they'll be nothing but ants before the power of the Ten-Tails. You could easily... establish whatever order you wanted and create the peace you envisioned." Madara's words were full of temptation, as if he could see Nalong's ambition for power and hatred of the existing order.
Nalong drew in a timely breath, his eyes gleaming with "excitement" and "resolve," as if he had been won over by the grand ideal and overwhelming power. "If... if I really could gain that kind of power... perhaps... I really could change this damned world! At the very least, I could end this endless cycle and stop all those pointless sacrifices!" His words were half true and half false. Ending the bloodshed and establishing order were what he truly wanted, but never through something like Infinite Tsukuyomi. He would do it through absolute military force, unification, and authoritarian rule!
Watching Madara's strength ebb away, Nalong spoke with "determination" and "reverence." "Lord Madara, I've seen too much suffering with my own eyes, and I know how rotten this world is. If your plan can truly bring ultimate peace, then I'm willing... to become your successor and carry out the Eye of the Moon Plan, even if it costs me my life!" First, he would secure the title of "successor" and the resources that came with it!
Madara looked at Nalong's sincere expression of pain, his longing for power, and the look of someone moved by a grand ideal. A hint of satisfaction flashed through his cloudy Mangekyou Sharingan. He had succeeded: he had found a suitable pawn with great potential. As for what the pawn truly thought? Madara didn't particularly care. As long as Nalong followed the path he had laid out, Black Zetsu would find a way to guide and control him. He had a backup plan: if Nalong didn't work out, there was still Nagato in the Land of Rain.
Before you continue