Indra.
The Sage of Six Paths' eldest son, the true ancestor of the Uchiha clan, and—ironically—Black Zetsu's own nephew.
To achieve his goal, and to dispel Obito's suspicions, Black Zetsu shamelessly lowered his seniority and disguised himself as his "nephew," Indra.
But the expressions of the Sage's brothers, and even of Gamamaru, who were secretly observing the situation, grew extremely strange.
"Indra's reincarnation… he really came up with that?"
The Sage of Six Paths gave a cold snort. His third brother pretending to be his son—only Black Zetsu would pull off something so ridiculous.
"Your family is truly fascinating." Gamamaru muttered. He instinctively wanted to bark a few more jabs, but seeing the Sage's unpleasant expression, he quickly smirked awkwardly and changed the subject:
"But seriously, are you just going to sit back and watch Black Zetsu and Obito run wild like this?"
"With the power Obito holds now, if the Rabbit Goddess truly breaks free of her seal… even with your thousand-year preparation, she won't be easy to deal with."
"Do you think I left no countermeasures on Mother's side?" The Sage of Six Paths glanced indifferently at Gamamaru.
With the powers currently inside Obito, if Black Zetsu really used his body to resurrect Ōtsutsuki Kaguya, her strength would hardly be any weaker than it was at her peak.
After all, Obito was now not only the Ten Tails' jinchūriki, but he had also activated Infinite Tsukuyomi, placing the entire shinobi world under control.
That meant that if Kaguya were unsealed, she could immediately unleash God: Nativity of a World of Trees and draw on the life force of the entire planet!
But that was only in theory.
Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo had confidence in his plans, and in his own strength.
Just like when he had resolutely abandoned everything to wander the world and spread chakra, he believed he had both the ability and the resolve to do what was necessary.
"Wait. It won't be long—everything will end soon… hmm?"
Hagoromo's gaze suddenly sharpened, as if he had sensed something.
At the same instant, Gamamaru and Hamura also turned to look in the same direction, their expressions instantly growing heavy.
"How can this be?!"
Shock gave way to disbelief. Gamamaru's voice was hoarse as he shouted:
"This is impossible! I sacrificed the power of the entire Dream World to banish him into the turbulence of the cosmos. Even if he really could return, it should take decades, centuries—how could it be so soon? Wait… this aura!"
The more Gamamaru felt it, the more his face twisted in astonishment. That power… it had already completely surpassed the level it was at when they had once fought!
"Yuki Yoru…" Gamamaru whispered in disbelief as he stared at the vast sky.
"What on earth did you obtain out there in the universe?!"
...
The Pure Land.
A bleak, gray wasteland, stripped of all color—as if every trace of light and life had been erased from existence.
A figure silently tore through the fabric of space and descended into this world. His brows furrowed as he took in the desolate scene.
"So this is the Pure Land… why does it look—"
"—different from what you thought?"
Ōtsutsuki Isshiki sneered, controlling Madara's body as he darted quickly through the lifeless world. It wasn't long before he arrived at a certain place.
The gray, ruined world held no color, except for a strikingly conspicuous blood-red long river.
It twisted and coiled, flowing all the way toward a towering mountain that pierced the clouds. On its surface, the faint outlines of countless indistinct souls bobbed up and down.
Some struggled, some screamed voicelessly—the sight alone was enough to chill the bones.
"Do you see? Once your soul comes here, forget free will—even holding onto consciousness itself is uncertain. What else could you possibly expect?"
Uchiha Madara fell silent.
No wonder that during his long slumber, he had no memory of anything—like he had been lost in a murky, lightless void the whole time.
So this was the true face of the Pure Land!
"Where is…"
Uchiha Madara's gaze followed the blood-red river all the way up to the towering mountain that pierced the clouds.
Relying on his overwhelming ocular power, his vision pierced through the thin mists shrouding the peaks, letting him see what lay at the river's end atop the summit.
That was…
A temple?
"That is where the brothers, Hagoromo and Hamura, are residing," Ōtsutsuki Isshiki sneered.
During the time he had been lurking in the shinobi world, the Six Paths brothers had hidden themselves here in the Pure Land, laying down their schemes.
The very idea of a "Pure Land" hadn't even existed back when he and Kaguya first descended upon Earth.
At that time, this place was simply called the Underworld, and the river beneath their feet was the Styx.
Back then, when people died, their souls would flow directly into the river.
Its waters would wash away their memories, and then they would reincarnate, returning to the living world.
But now…
A barren, lifeless wasteland.
A choking death-miasma of fog.
And a blood-like endless river, churning with countless wailing souls.
The schemes of the Six Paths brothers over these thousand years… truly ruthless!
"These souls," Isshiki said coldly, "are all those whom Hagoromo selected over the last millennium—individuals in the shinobi world with the potential to stand on their own, strong talents with a high mastery of chakra."
"If they do not have that man's permission—or interference from an external power—they will never leave this world. They can only sink within this so-called 'Pure Land,' reduced to nothing more than food reserves for him."
"Food… reserves?"
"Of course. Why else do you think he abandoned ruling the living world and chose instead to linger in this desolate corner?"
"…"
Madara fell silent.
When long-buried truths are unearthed, they are always cruel.
So if he hadn't been resurrected, if he hadn't returned to the world of the living, he would be just like the souls drifting in this river—lost in unconsciousness, until the Sage of Six Paths devoured him as fuel.
Wait… if these were all individuals in life who had been powerful, with talent and chakra mastery… then wouldn't Hashirama also—
"Ah, just as you imagine. Your dear Hashirama, and even your brother, Uchiha Izuna—they are here as well."
Isshiki's indifferent words made Madara's expression grow darker still.
What was this?!
Hashirama, Izuna—with their strength and their spirit—reduced in death to mere husks adrift in this river?
What kind of fate was that?!
They deserved better.
Even if they had died, they should have found true rest—or been reborn into a new life.
Not this. Not here.
"You're furious, aren't you? But this is the truth: the strong hold the right to dictate all things—including your lives, and your destinies."
"…What do you intend to do?"
"What do I intend to do?" Isshiki sneered, his gaze following the river up toward the temple upon the mountain.
"Of course—I intend to restore this world's rightful order of life and death."
Controlling Madara's body, Isshiki raised his right palm.
In the next instant, a massive sphere of dark red chakra began to condense there, radiating a terrifying aura.
"Madara, if the shinobi world were to learn of what you do today, would they not call you a hero?"
"Hero?"
In the space of his own consciousness, Uchiha Madara froze, his expression strange, his voice sighing with emotion.
"To think that one day, I would be called a hero. Hashirama… very well. Let me be a hero, just this once!"
The dark red chakra sphere swelled larger and larger.
Its dreadful aura sent waves of instinctive terror through the countless drifting souls below, and the already chilling Pure Land grew all the more tumultuous.
In the next moment, the energy sphere in his hand shot toward the mountain peak.
The explosion of power instantly engulfed the entire mountain…
…
Amidst Black Zetsu's endless stream of flattery, Uchiha Obito's hostility toward him gradually lessened into mere vigilance.
But only that—nothing more.
"Since I've already fulfilled your lifelong pursuit," Obito said coldly, his eyes fixed on Black Zetsu, "what do you plan to do next? Without your obsession, your thousand-year existence should come to an end, shouldn't it?"
Black Zetsu's face stiffened for a moment before he forced a smile.
"Ah, yes. Your rise has indeed filled me with incomparable pride and honor. My thousand-year obsession has now concluded. By all reason, I should return to the Pure Land."
"But before that… there is still one thing I must do."
"What thing?" Obito frowned.
"Don't worry—it has nothing to do with you." Black Zetsu shook his head. "Because of my obsession, I wandered this shinobi world for a thousand years. But my foolish younger brother… he was reborn again and again through reincarnation. Now that my obsession is ended, I still want to see that foolish brother of mine one last time."
"I want to tell him to his face—that I was right! That Father should have chosen me, not him!"
At those words, Black Zetsu's expression twisted into something hideously fierce, his tone thick with that familiar Uchiha arrogance.
This display, this theatrical flourish, strangely won Obito's approval.
Yes—this was indeed what an Uchiha should think.
"The reincarnation of Asura, then," Obito muttered, noncommittal. "So in this generation, who is it?"
"Well…" A faintly awkward look crossed Black Zetsu's face. "Because Yuki Yoru spread spiritual power across the entire shinobi world, I can't clearly sense into whom Asura's soul reincarnated this time…"
"Black Zetsu, if you want to add drama for yourself, then fine—but don't drag me into it."
An indifferent voice rang out from the sky. Black Zetsu, who was in the middle of his passionate performance, abruptly stopped speaking. Uchiha Obito was also stunned, then looked up sharply, his eyes fixed intently on the heavens.
A familiar aura appeared in the sky. In the next moment, the space at the horizon emitted a crisp cracking sound, followed by an invisible roar as it began to crumble and collapse piece by piece.
"Yuki Yoru!"
"Long time no see, Obito. Judging from your current state… it seems you've grown quite formidable during the time I've been away."
A pale figure slowly stepped out from the black rift.
Yuki Yoru—the one Uchiha Obito regarded as his greatest threat—had finally appeared, even now when Obito already believed he completely controlled the shinobi world.
As always, he wore the Fourth Mizukage's white ceremonial robe, a Zanpakutō resting at his waist. His appearance seemed unchanged from the past.
"Should I congratulate you for truly reaching the far shore… for attaining power on par with the gods?"
"You've finally appeared, Yuki Yoru!"
"No need to be so excited. I know you've been waiting for me."
Yoru stepped down through the air, his gaze sweeping over the moon displaying the nine-tomoe Rinnegan in the sky, then down to the Kirigakure shinobi trapped in the genjutsu below, and finally to Yuki Kiri and the others pinned to the ground by black rods.
"Look at all of this. Truly impressive. I honestly can't connect the Obito before me with the foolish brat I once remembered. Obito—you've grown."
"…"
Obito's expression darkened as he stared at Yoru.
Even though in his mind he had played out tens of thousands of scenarios for their reunion, now that the man truly stood before him, Obito found the twisted emotions inside him impossible to put into words.
He stared at Yoru.
Even though he had destroyed all of Kirigakure, even though he had seized control of the shinobi world, even though he had killed everyone Yoru once loved or cared about—on Yoru's face, he could see no anger, no shame, not even the faintest ripple of emotion.
From every angle, Yoru's expression remained serene—peaceful, composed.
He drifted down naturally from the broken space and came to stand beside Kimimaro, Uchiha Hikari, and the others. He reached out and grasped the black rod impaled through Kimimaro, pulled it free with ease, and crushed it to dust.
Radiant light of miracles once again surged from Kimimaro's body. In mere moments, the colossal figure of the Giant of Light was about to form once more—
But with just a wave of Yoru's hand, the giant diminished, shrinking until it became Kimimaro's human body again.
"This…"
Kimimaro blinked his eyes open groggily, instinctively clenching his fists.
"My power… Yoru… Lord Yoru?!"
"No need to worry. I'm back."
Yoru gently ruffled Kimimaro's hair, his lips curving into a warm smile.
"You did very well, Kimimaro."
"Lord Yoru!"
"Yuki Yoru, does this mean anything at all!?"
Obito's voice cut across the air like a cold wind, ruining the moment. His indifferent gaze held no attempt to hide the mockery within it.
"Look around you, look at the shinobi world now, Yoru!"
"I admit you are strong—but you're too late! The true victor is me! The old era has been cast aside, and everyone now lives within the dream world, reborn anew!"
"Yuki Yoru—this round belongs to me!"