Shinobi World No. 1.
Winter, Year 46 of Konoha.
In a hidden underground cavern.
The conduits of the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path had stopped pulsing, and the dark red light that had once supplied an endless stream of life force had gone out completely. Madara Uchiha leaned against his stone chair, his withered body finally still. His eyes were closed, his face peaceful, and there was even a faint smile on his lips-was it relief or lingering resentment? No one knew.
He was dead.
The man who had once founded Konoha alongside Hashirama Senju, pacified a chaotic world alongside him, and shared the title of "God of Shinobi" with him, the man who had devised the "Eye of the Moon" plan and tried to create a perfect world without war, pain, or loss-was finally dead. He had died in this underground cavern where sunlight never reached, in loneliness and darkness, before his own "will incarnation."
Black Zetsu emerged from the shadows, his topaz eyes fixed on Madara's corpse. His shadow rippled slightly, not with grief, but with relief.
"Madara, you're finally dead."
His voice was so soft that only he could hear it.
"If you'd lived any longer, I wouldn't have been able to keep this hidden! Nagato has already made a name for himself with the Sharingan and Gold Release, while the Rinnegan is right here in my hands."
He took a Jade Box wrapped in layers of Sealing Runes from inside his robes. Inside were the Rinnegan that had once belonged to Madara, then been transplanted into Nagato, only for Nagato to gouge them out himself. Fine cracks covered the grayish-white eyeballs, and the concentric ripples at their centers had gone completely dim, as though they had lost all divinity.
But Black Zetsu knew they were