Black Zetsu watched the battle reach a fever pitch.
The blue and purple Susanoo were still clashing, each impact making the earth tremble.
The orange and green half-body Susanoo carved bloody paths through the army of Impure World Reincarnation shinobi.
Not enough. Still a little short.
Black Zetsu's gaze pierced the smoke of battle and settled on the red-haired figure in the distance-Pain, Nagato, the vessel for those Rinnegan.
Madara's Rinnegan, Madara's plan, Madara's pawn. But none of that mattered now.
What mattered was that the chaos had grown great enough to conceal his true objective.
"The White Zetsu army."
Black Zetsu's voice was soft, as though he were talking to himself.
"It's time to make an appearance."
The ground split open. These were not fissures left by Susanoo's slashes, but something deeper, more ancient, as though the earth's own skin were cracking.
Countless white figures surged out from underground, like fountains, like swarming ants, like a flood bursting through a dam.
They had human forms, but their skin was paper-white, their faces expressionless, their eyes hollow and cold.
White Zetsu crawled out of the fissures in droves, covering the edges of the battlefield, clambering over rocks and up trees, spreading through the curtain of rain like a white plague.
"What... what are these things!"
The burly Kumogakure shinobi's voice cracked.
His hands were shaking.
The Iwagakure shinobi no longer had time to retrieve the kunai he had dropped, because a White Zetsu stood right before him, head tilted, staring at him with hollow eyes.
The Iwagakure shinobi threw a punch. The White Zetsu's head twisted to one side, then slowly turned back.
Everyone on the battlefield froze.
Not because these White Zetsu were particularly strong, but because there were too many of them.
So many that they were like