The night held its breath.
Move. NOW.
Obito's Sharingan snapped wide, swirling red whirlpools burning through the smoke-choked air. Kaito was already there—no, everywhere. A whisper of motion. A kunai flicked for his heart.
Kamui!
Obito phased—just in time.
Or… not quite.
A jolt cracked through his body. Just a sliver of delay. The kunai passed through harmlessly—but something felt wrong.
He landed hard, skidding across shattered stone. His body felt sluggish. Disconnected.
What… was that?
Across the ruined battlefield, Kaito flipped the kunai in his hand, completely at ease. His Mangekyō glowed crimson—twin eclipses, locked on Obito like death itself.
He smirked.
"Why does the 'Ghost of the Uchiha' run like a whipped dog?"
He spit the name Madara like a curse, a blade aimed straight at Obito's pride.
Behind his broken mask, Obito's jaw clenched.
The name stung. A lie he'd worn like armor. But now it felt like cracked porcelain.
Still—he couldn't let emotion slow him. He needed a plan. Fast.
Seven minutes. That's how long Izanagi would protect him. Seven minutes of immortality to find a counter or get out.
His grip tightened around the scythe.
Smoke curled around the battlefield like coiled serpents. Broken trees, upturned stone, and blood pooled across the ravaged terrain.
"I admit… you're stronger than expected," Obito muttered. "But don't get arrogant."
Kaito gave a lazy shrug.
"Then let's keep playing."
No warning. No buildup. Just action.
His Mangekyō ignited—twin rings glowing like the ticking hands of a bloodstained clock.
Obito froze.
What is that…?
The air warped. Space seemed to ripple as the black tomoe inside Kaito's eyes ticked, moving like gears. Faint light circled the iris in a pattern—fractured, segmented, mechanical.
A Mangekyō unlike any he'd seen.
Not Kamui. Not Minato's technique. Something… else.
"Your space-time ninjutsu," Obito said warily, "It comes from your Mangekyō?"
Kaito smiled wider. "Even if you know, what will you do about it?"
There was no bravado in his tone—just lethal confidence.
Obito had faced monsters before. But Kaito moved differently. Not just faster—smarter. His techniques weren't slipping through space...
They were breaking time.
He's hiding something else, Obito thought. There's another ability. One he hasn't shown me yet.
Then—
Kaito vanished.
CLANG!
Sparks sprayed as Obito barely caught the blade with his scythe, metal screaming on metal. Kaito's kunai came from below—angled for the ribs.
Obito twisted, phasing—just a hair too slow.
Another delay.
No… again?!
His eyes widened.
He's altering my perception…
Kaito danced back, flipping the kunai again like it weighed nothing.
"Something wrong?" he teased.
Obito's voice was strained. "You rely too much on tricks."
"And you rely too much on Izanagi."
Obito's body went rigid.
Kaito didn't let up. "Seven minutes, right? That means you're down to—what, six?"
He's stalling.
He's bleeding out the clock.
Obito surged forward with a roar, scythe sweeping like a crescent moon—only for Kaito to disappear again.
A flicker of motion—Kaito reappeared at Obito's flank.
Blade arcing.
Obito twisted—late again.
His Mangekyō spun violently.
This is bad.
Every move came a breath behind. Every dodge a step short.
Kaito's Mangekyō ticked once more.
Obito phased just before the kunai slashed his throat—but the truth was undeniable now:
He wasn't just fighting Kaito.
He was fighting against time itself.