The Uchiha Madara on the Verge of Collapse-Tragic? Pitiful? Or Laughable?

In order to escape this unsolvable predicament, he went alone into the Naka Shrine and found the Six Paths Stone Tablet that had been passed down for thousands of years in the dark underground stone chamber.

The inscription on the stone tablet was the only glimmer of light in his long darkness.

The Infinite Tsukuyomi can create true peace, free from strife and bloodshed.

He thought he had found the answer to the problem.

They believed that the delayed peace was simply due to their own insufficient strength and limited understanding.

They thought the road ahead was long, but there was still a way out.

To this day, Natsu's words have completely shattered the obsession he had held onto for half his life.

The stone tablet is fake.

It was a carefully crafted scam by Black Zetsu.

The so-called Infinite Tsukuyomi is not salvation, but utter destruction.

His lifelong plan, for which he abandoned family ties, suppressed hatred, and lay dormant in the shadows for decades, was, from beginning to end, a script meticulously crafted by someone else.

He was not the one who controlled fate, nor could he even be considered a villain in a chaotic world; he was merely a pawn to be manipulated at will, used to its fullest extent, and then discarded.

And the piece that ended his life was none other than his childhood confidant and lifelong friend— Hashirama Senju.

He gently turned the Kunai with his fingertips, the cold blade reflecting his furrowed brows.

He didn't hate Hashirama, never.

He knew better than anyone that the moment Hashirama from the other world killed him with his Hashirama, he would be trapped by endless sins and regrets for the rest of his life, and would never forgive himself until his death.

He just couldn't understand it.

Why did every choice, every struggle, and every concession in Madara Uchiha's life ultimately turn out to be a mistake?

His childhood confidant was the clan chief, his sworn enemy, and he accepted it.

He accepted that his closest relatives had been brutally murdered by the enemy, and there was nothing he could do to change the situation.

He suppressed his deep-seated hatred and put aside his pride to work together to build a village, but what he got in return was eternal suspicion and estrangement between the two tribes. He accepted it.

Finally, they placed all their hopes on the ancestral teachings and the Ark Maxim on stone tablets, only to find that it was a deception that had trapped them for half their lives.

Even his last shred of self-deception was completely crushed.

"Why..."

The softest whispers shattered in the night breeze, like a soliloquy, or perhaps a questioning of absurd fate.

His fingertips tightened suddenly, the sharp Kunai of the kunai digging into the old scar on his palm, piercing the flesh.

Warm drops of blood slowly seeped out, winding their way down the cold blade. One drop, two drops, landed on the bluish-white stone slab, spreading out as dark red spots, like withered little blood-red flowers.

"I couldn't protect my brother, I couldn't protect my family... even the escape route I risked everything for was a trap set by someone else."

His voice was dry and hoarse, concealing a weariness and bewilderment he had never shown in his life. "What has my life really meant?"

In the distance, the gentle, distant sound of the flowing water of the Naka River could be faintly heard.

That was the riverbank where he and Hashirama first met, the place where all their beautiful hopes began.

Those were innocent and pure days. Two naive teenagers, preoccupied with competing to see who could skip stones, were filled with dreams of a peaceful and prosperous world free from war and conflict.

Back then, he was just a boy who always won at skipping stones, unrelated to the Uchiha's destiny and unburdened by the clan's responsibilities.

At that time, Hashirama was just a stubborn and cheerful young man who never gave up despite repeated defeats, unrelated to his Senju Clan identity and unburdened by the shackles of a blood feud.

The future then seemed vast and boundless, as if it held countless gentle possibilities.

But years have passed in the blink of an eye, and things have changed.

He sat alone in the desolate courtyard, clutching his brother's belongings, his palms raw and bleeding, his body weathered and weary. Looking back on his tumultuous life, he couldn't find a single person to whom he could harbor resentment or blame.

All that remains is a hollow sense of bewilderment and a shattered childhood dream.

Madara flipped the Kunai over, the blade reflecting his furrowed brows.

He didn't hate Hashirama, he never had.

Hashirama from that world killed him, but he knew that Hashirama must have carried this sin for the rest of his life and must have never forgiven himself until his death.

He didn't hate Hashirama; he just couldn't understand why every choice and every struggle in his life, Madara Uchiha's life, ultimately turned out to be wrong.

His childhood best friend was the young patriarch of a sworn enemy family, and he accepted that.

He had finally grown up, only to have his younger brother die in front of him; he accepted it.

He suppressed his hatred, abandoned his dignity, and shook hands with Hashirama to make peace, only to be met with endless suspicion between the two clans. He accepted it.

They placed all their hopes on the stone tablet at Naka Shrine, only to find that even that was fake—a complete scam from beginning to end.

He didn't even have a last excuse to deceive himself.

"Why."

"My brother, I failed to protect him. My family, I couldn't protect them. Even the final plan was a script written by someone else. What am I to you?"

He stood proudly in the Ninja World his entire life. He was the Asura who struck fear into the hearts of all enemies on the battlefield, the pillar of the Uchiha Clan, and the Madara Uchiha whom the world looked up to and dared not profane.

Throughout his life, he fought for victory, for power, for destiny, and for a clean and peaceful world.

He never bowed his head, never showed weakness. Even when he was betrayed by everyone and the world turned against him, he remained proud and unyielding, hiding all his embarrassment and vulnerability deep in his heart.

There was no outburst of emotion, no hysterical screaming.

When utter despair overwhelmed him, even anger became a luxury, leaving only boundless desolation and coldness that gripped his limbs and bones.

From the moment he made his vow by the river in his youth, his fate had already been secretly arranged by someone.

His lifelong scheming and plotting were all a lie.

Everything he fought so hard to protect—love, hate, obsession, ideals, and family ties—became nothing more than pawns on someone else's chessboard, used to manipulate the situation.

He boasted that he had seen through all aspects of the Ninja World and controlled his own destiny, disdaining ordinary people who drifted with the tide. In the end, however, he was the most absurd and ridiculous clown in the entire chaotic world.

Others' lives may have their ups and downs, but his life, from beginning to end, was a complete loss, a journey ending in nothing.

"I see... I see."

Everyone says that Hashirama Senju innocent.

Even though Hashirama's ideals were fragile, they were at least honest and sincere, without a trace of falsehood.

But what about him?

His lifelong pursuit of the Great Way was, in the end, nothing but a deception in which he was manipulated by others.

The most absurd thing is that he has nowhere to put his resentment.

He was toyed with by fate, his obsessions crushed by destiny, and in the end, he couldn't even find an object to hate and vent his anger on.

He slowly raised his eyes, and the sharpness, pride, and edge of the past had completely faded from his dark pupils, leaving only a desolate silence.

Even though the Sharingan had never been awakened, the weariness and despair flowing in his eyes were more chilling than any bloodthirsty Dōjutsu.

"What have I been fighting for all my life?"

I really love the character Madara Uchiha. Looking back on Madara Uchiha's life reminds me of a streamer.

Egg Master!

That poignant lament, isn't it a reflection of Madara Uchiha's life?

He devoted his entire life to his cause, giving his all, only to have it all come to naught. Compared to tragic characters like Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, I think Madara Uchiha was the one who suffered the most.

Proud as he was, he refused to yield an inch even to Hashirama, but in the end, he hid in the shadows for decades like a spineless dog, all for the sake of the Infinite Tsukuyomi, only to end up as a joke.

Of all the characters in Hokage, only Madara Uchiha truly captivated me.

A person who is arrogant and proud, yet still possesses ideals, beliefs, and ambitions, ultimately becomes a clown.

Watching Madara's ending was really heartbreaking. It felt like all the brothers had fought so hard, only to have it all turn into a joke.

But this is precisely the most authentic aspect of life.

Sigh, I'm thinking of taking Madara Uchiha from this period with me. What do you guys think?