Somewhere in the forest zone.
A spacious clearing stretched out, cradling a large, serene lake. At one end, a waterfall cascaded from a towering cliff, crashing down onto a flat, polished rock surface below with rhythmic power.
At the opposite edge of the lake, near a ledge, sat a young man. He was partially submerged in the cool water, which rose only to just below his chest.
His head was tilted slightly back, eyes closed, as his long, thick black hair flowed freely behind him, damp and wild.
"It's time."
As the thought echoed in his mind, he opened his eyes.
They were no longer just pitch-black. Now, they resembled crystallized dark gems, deep and mysterious. If one looked closely, tiny white dots shimmered within them, and faint, swirling trails like those of the Milky Way pulsed through the darkness. They looked like a magical void, an endless expanse of mythical, cosmic darkness.
He rose from the lake, water streaming down his frame.
His physique had undergone a remarkable transformation over the past two years. He stood taller now, with a broad chest and perfectly symmetrical six-pack abs that seemed carved from stone. His arms were thick and sculpted, every muscle from his biceps and triceps down to his forearms sharply defined. His wide back tapered seamlessly into a solid, powerful torso. His legs mirrored the same meticulous detail—strong, muscular, and honed.
His body embodied the very definition of perfection.
'Ststus.'
========
Name: Madara
Age: 15
Cultivation Base: Emperor profound realm - Stage 3
Exp (Level 20): 204,569 / 800,000
Soul Coins: 16,456
==========
Madara glanced at his status screen, noting the drastic transformations across all the key categories.
In just two years, his cultivation had skyrocketed from the True Profound Realm to the Emperor Profound Realm, a leap across four major realms. A feat so absurd that no outsider would even dare imagine it.
When he had first started in this world, it took him merely a single day to ascend from the Elementary Profound Realm to the True Profound Realm.
For comparison, there were cultivators between the ages of seventeen and nineteen who were still struggling within the Nascent Profound Realm. For them, progressing through a single stage often took months or even years. Yet even such individuals were hailed as rare geniuses.
Madara, however, had broken through those realms with ease. The fact that he had advanced three realms in just one day was enough to place him on an entirely different level.
But did Madara care about being labeled a genius?
The answer was simple: No.
Titles, recognition, and fame were nothing more than distractions—a waste of time to someone like him.
There were, however, two reasons why Madara was capable of such absurd progress. Two reasons that placed the gap between him and ordinary cultivators on the same level as the gap between heaven and earth.
Insurmountable.
What made this logic possible was the unique, and almost impossible in a way when he initiated his cultivation.
Unlike ordinary cultivators, Madara's path into the first profound realm had never followed the rules of this world.
For others, the journey began with patience, slowly guiding their own vitality into their profound veins, waiting as it transformed into a trace of sparse profound energy. Only after the profound veins gets filled completely by the sparse profound energy would one be able to finally step into the Elementary Profound realm. It was a process that could take days, weeks, even months—solely depending on the practitioners talent.
But Madara... had skipped that path entirely.
His body was not crafted by fate, it was forged against it.
Knowing the speciality of his profound veins. Where others struggled to circulate the smallest thread of profound energy, Madara's body could contain entire rivers of it. It was as if his very physique had been built for domination, constructed to handle pressure and power that would shatter others from within.
Instead of relying on his vitality to slowly generate profound energy, he was able to absorb the vitality of heaven and earth directly as Profound Energy.
To know, cultivators absorb the vitality of heaven and earth blindly through their Profound vein refining it slowly into Profound Energy. Here, Madara defied that logic, skipping that truth by absorbing the vitality of heaven and earth without the need of refinement as it entered him in the state of already complete purity, already usable profound energy, placing him on an entire different level than the norms.
What made that process possible was his physique that allowed him to sense what's beyond senseble. Unlike ordinary cultivators who can only sense the vitality of heaven and earth, his heightened senses allows him to perceive it in its purest, refined form, as profound energy itself.
Able to also discern its structure, feel the flow, pressure, and density at the most ganular level. This awareness gives him absolute precision, he absorbs only what is already suitable for cultivation skipping the refining process entirely.
Meaning, his body doesn't waste energy refining, it directly circulates, stores and utilizes. This results in a tenfold increase in both cultivation speed and internal circulation achieving peak efficiency, and his profound veins are perfectly tuned to handle this pure energy flow, already adding to the state.
This made cultivation breakthrough as easy as eating and drinking.
Still, with all that, there was currently a problem he had run into. Previously, he had managed to unlock twelve profound entrances. Now, he had fifteen profound entrances unlocked which, instead of progress, had become a glaring roadblock. Two full years had passed, and in that time, he had only managed to unlock three more.
Though it wasn't his fault.
He had tested countless methods. Pills purchased directly from the system shop, each crafted with a guaranteed one-hundred percent purity rate, specifically designed to stimulate and open profound entrances. He had burned through over fifty thousand soul coins, only for every attempt to end in utter failure. Not a single pill had worked. It was as if unlocking more than fifteen entrances had been sealed off by something deeper, a restriction engraved into his very soul veins.
Frustration brewed within him like a storm. Still, to say he had tried everything would be a lie.
He has two things he could do.
First, there was an item in the system shop that would help in this case, one that far beyond ordinary.
One that held unimaginable potential. It wouldn't just help him unlock his profound entrances, it promised heaven-defying benefits across multiple domains. If acquired, it could elevate his cultivation speed, refine his body and soul, and grant him advantages that defied common sense. Just its description alone made it clear.
=========
Item: Primordial Chaos Bead
Grade: Chaos Supreme Treasure
Price: 5,000,000 Soul Coins
Description: Forged in the womb of primal chaos, before the division of yin and yang and the birth of the myriad Daos, the Primordial Chaos Bead is a supreme treasure that existed before Heaven and Earth came into form.
It originates from the legendary Honghuang Realm. The ancient, boundless plane that birthed saints, gods, and the very laws of the Dao. The bead is the crystallized core of unshaped chaos itself, carrying the power of pre-creation and absolute entropy. It does not belong to any element, law, or origin, it is the source from which all such things arose.
"Before Dao, there was Chaos. Before Heaven, there was this."
===========
This would not only help him unlock his profound entrances it would obliterate the current ceiling he was stuck beneath. It would even accelerate his overall cultivation base far beyond the standard rate. With that kind of pure chaotic energy coursing through him, even the foundational cultivation laws would yield.
But of course, there was one problem.
The price.
5,000,000 soul coins.
Absurd didn't even begin to describe it.
For two hears, he was only able to reach over six-hundred soul coins, and now are only over ten-thousand soul coins remaining considering he just spent them on items he needed for his next move. So basically, it was now like a starting point all over again.
To understand the scale of what he had to go through to obtain over six-hundred soil coins, he had nearly drained the entire region of beasts.
His profound sense now was able to cover the whole forest, a small nation expanse stretching over a hundred kilometer. And yet, he could sense only a scattered handful of profound beasts—all of them no stronger than the Elementary Profound Realm.
For two years, not a single day had passed without bloodshed. He had killed, killed, and killed again—driving himself into relentless, one-sided battles against wave after wave of profound beasts.
He had slain over a million… and still, it wasn't enough.
He had brought the forest to the brink of extinction, and yet the path ahead remained sealed.
But it was understandable for an item like that to be priced for that much.
It was the chaos bead after all, coming from a high-demensional cultivation world. A broken item.
To know, In the Honghuang realm's grading system, the Chaos Bead Chaos Supreme Treasure, a transcendental artifact born from primordial chaos, surpassing even the highest innate treasures of Heaven and Earth. It is one of the rarest and most dangerous items in the mythos, carrying powers that predate and transcend all laws.
The Chaos Bead was not a treasure forged by gods, nor something created through alchemy or divine refinement—it was a primordial anomaly, a naturally formed artifact born directly from the chaotic void before the birth of Heaven and Earth. Before yin and yang, before the five elements, even before the concept of Dao itself, there was only chaos—and from that chaos, the bead was born.
Within it lay the essence of Chaos Origin Energy, a raw, lawless force unbound by structure or limitation.
Unlike profound energy or divine essence, which adhered to specific laws, attributes, and planes, chaos energy was pure potential—energy that had not yet decided what to become. Fire, lightning, destruction, creation—chaos could become all of them, or none.
Those who could harness it could reshape reality, nullify the laws of others, and even forge new Daos.
The bead itself housed an embryonic chaos dimension, a realm of formless energy that could evolve into a personal universe.
But such power came at a price—without an unshakable will and an immensely powerful soul, the chaos within would devour its wielder from the inside. It was said that even saints feared its instability. To refine the Chaos Bead was to confront the origin of all things—and risk becoming nothing.
For such risks, Madara didn't have to worry. He already possesses such will, and as for a powerful soul, he'll have that soon enough.
For him, it's either do or die.
Second, is to get the sky poison pearl from Yun Che. Yun Che was able to open all fifty-four of his profound entrances in a matter of seconds because of the purifying ability of the sky poison pearl, and currently this is the only option he could use.
Gaining 5,000,000 soul coins would take him time, so he'll just have to stick to whatever available Infront of him.
But would Madara forget about the Chaos Bead? Absolutely not, he'll make sure to get that bead right before he ascends to the Divine Realm.
'I need to get ready.' Madara thought as clothes suddenly materialized over his body. It was a tight black martial artist outfit, simple and neat. He only had to spend fifty soul coins to buy clothes.
Madara vanished, reappearing in another spacious space of a forest. It took an instant to travel around ten-thousand miles.
To understand the possibility of such thing is to know the capability of an emperor profound realm expert.
The Emperor Profound Realm marks the beginning of true transcendence. At this level, a cultivator's body and soul undergoes a profound transformation—aging slowed to a crawl, the need for food, rest, and even air became optional, and their spiritual sense could span vast distances.
They can cross vast distances in the blink of an eye, and manipulate space itself to enhance their speed. Some could compress the space between two points, allowing them to appear as if they'd teleported or moved faster than thought. This manipulation of space made their speed untouchable by lower realm cultivators, and their attacks nearly impossible to evade
But the true terror of this realm lay in their control over Domains. Personal fields of absolute law where space could be bent, gravity distorted, elemental forces reshaped, and weaker cultivators completely suppressed. Within a Domain, an Emperor Profound expert is God.
In addition, at the highest levels of refinement, some could even crystallize their souls—forming a spiritual core that could survive the destruction of their body, preserving their consciousness for rebirth in a new vessel.
"Finally... it's done." Madara muttered as he stepped toward a quiet area shrouded by a faint, wide, translucent blue barrier. At its center rested a strange, round object.
"To think it actually worked."
The barrier dissipated the moment he crossed its threshold. He moved closer, crouching as he picked up the item, slowly examining it. It was no longer just an object. It had become something else, something alive.
A pitch-black fruit, warm to the touch, with swirling flame-orange patterns running along its surface like veins. It pulsed faintly.
This mythical-looking fruit was the result of his first ever experiment—a plan he had put into motion two years ago, involving two items that were the first ever to be purchased from the system shop.
The first item was the target of the experiment. The Fire-Fire Fruit, or Mera Mera fruit from the world of One Piece. That had cost him fifty-thousand Soul Coins.
The fire fruit is basically something that allows someone to gain the ability to create, control, and transform into fire at will.
Madara had long theorized its deeper potential. If brought into this world, this cultivation-based universe—the fruit might behave differently. It wouldn't merely be a tool. It could become something far more profound.
"If treated right… could it act like a Dao Fruit?" He had once wondered.
This fruit wasn't just a foreign object, it resembled a Dao Fruit in nature. The concept made sense to him. In this world, anything that granted elemental dominion bore similarity to profound treasures aligned with the laws of the universe.
But this fruit felt... incomplete. Like a pre-matured Dao Fruit, a seed with potential yet untapped. And if that were the case, then it still had room to grow.
So this is where the second item would come in play.
A simple nurturing formation, the Essence Nourishment Array.
It had cost him ten-thousand Soul Coins. It's a foundational formation that passively absorbed the vitality of heaven and earth and slowly fused that energy into a designated target.
And with that he set up the array and the fruit together and waited.
It took two long years. At first, he'd thought the process was failing—nothing changed for months. But over time, the fruit gradually darkened, its texture shifting until it became this obsidian-black form, adorned with searing orange patterns like glowing embers.
He could only wait, after all. Items that could accelerate such time-based processes existed, but they were far too expensive.
Now, the array had gone completely still. It no longer drew in the vitality of heaven and earth. The energy flow had ceased, signaling that the transformation had reached its end.
"I hope the results are worth the wait." Madara muttered.
He picked up the fruit, poising it Infront of his mouth and bit into it. Then again. And again, until the entire thing was consumed.
Strangely, there was no bitterness like what was described originally. There was no taste at all. Just blank nothingness. A void on the tongue. Oddly disconcerting.
He stood in silence, eyes narrowed after a few seconds.
"Nothing?"
There was no sensation. No change. No warmth. No flame.
Nothing.
"Did this thing fail?" His expression darkened.
There wasn't even a flicker of fire essence within his body. Not a single fluctuation in his profound veins. No resonance with flame laws. No transformation. Nothing that resembled a Logia-type ability, or even a weak affinity for fire.
'Could it be that the Devil Fruit lost its essence?' Madara frowned deeply. 'I tried to evolve it, to push its growth beyond what it was meant to be. But what if, in doing so, I went against the natural rules of its existence?'
Maybe the laws that governed its power were reversed or nullified. Maybe the fruit, once a powerful force of nature, had been stripped of its essence in the process. Like a Dao Artifact whose spirit had been shattered. Its identity lost.
His hands curled into tight fists.
"This is fuck-" Madara cursed under his breath, but before he could finish.
BOOM.
An explosion erupted from within Madara's body, tearing through the silence like the roar of a dying star.
The world shook.
For a split second, everything was swallowed by darkness—an unnatural eclipse of light, sound, and sense. Then, just as suddenly, reality returned… only to scream in pain.
The land seemed to unlessh a howl.
The trees. The ground. Even the air, everything was burning.
Not with normal flames. No orange or red. No smoke.
But with pitch-black fire, a flame so dark, it devoured color, shadow, and shape alike. It clung to every surface, spreading like a curse.
Trees were instantly incinerated, not burnt to ash, but erased—their existence disintegrating from top to root, vanishing into black mist. The ground beneath Madara's feet melted and cratered, forming a ten-foot-deep pit of scorched, liquefied earth.
Even the air itself was consumed.
Flames twisted in midair, burning the oxygen, warping space, and distorting light. The forest around him fractured as its very reality was eaten alive by these flames.
'This is…'
Madara stood unmoving, stunned not by the explosion, but by the origin of it.
It had come from within him. No warning. No buildup. Just a sudden ignition of absolute power.
He looked down.
His body was ablaze, covered head to toe in those same pitch-black flames.
Yet, he felt no pain. His robes were untouched. His flesh, unscorched. These flames weren't hostile to him. They were him.
He turned his gaze outward.
The forest was being reduced to nothing—one tree after another vanishing in a blink, the ground suffering collapse after collapse as layer after layer burned away. The very sky shimmered, as though the flames were consuming light, cloud, and heaven alike.
The fire floated and spread—insatiable and eternal.
This flame… it reminded him of something he'd seen in an anime.
"Amaterasu…" The black flames from Naruto, a Mangekyo Sharingan ability said to burn anything until nothing remained.
That was the closest thing to what he was seeing now.
But this wasn't chakra or illusion. This was real, far more real. This flame didn't just resemble Amaterasu… It surpassed it.
"Perfect." Madara clenched his fists, both of which blazed with that black inferno—and yet, they felt like an extension of himself. No heat, no resistance, just raw, boundless power.
His lips curled into a satisfied grin.
His experiment had worked. And it had done more than succeed.
The nourished Fire-Fire Fruit hadn't just adapted to the laws of this world—it had evolved, fusing into something deeper, purer, and far more terrifying.
In this world, others controlled fire by drawing it from their energy, using techniques or bloodlines to shape it. They trained just to command a piece of it. But Madara was different. He didn't control fire—he became it.
The evolved Fire-Fire Fruit didn't just give him power, it turned him into the source itself. Fire wasn't something he used, it was what he was. Every spark, every flame, every eruption of heat around him existed because he allowed it. He didn't need to summon fire—it followed him, bent to him, lived through him. While others practiced the element, he was the element.
Madara's mind moved and with a mere thought, the flames that raged on, burning the visible and invisible, vanished into nothingness.
Control came naturally, as long as he wills it, he can ignite it and extinguish it.
"Now for this."
In Madara's hand, an item appeared in his right hand.
It was a katana curved slightly like a tradition Japanese sword. The handle is wrapped in white cloth, and the guard is gold and shaped like three rounded points. The sheath is dark purple with flame-like patterns on it, giving it a mysterious and powerful look.
The moment it appeared, the air around Madara began to distort, warping under the weight of an oppressive pressure. The katana in his hand emitted a faint, ominous light, dark purple in hue, flickering like a cursed flame.
"S̴̢̛̳̙͙͎͍̙͕̘͖̹̿̿̈́̍̓̅͗͂͌̕͘ä̶̙̜̖̫̝̯̥̻́͌͊̆̌̋̑͆͝c̴̡̛̰͓̹̲̲͚͎̝̙͗̓̒͆͂͂̒̈́͌̎͝ṙ̶̛̛̬͙̻̫̱̞͓̼̬͋͛̒͆̒͝͝i̶̬͇̘̝͔̖̰͖̺͇͊̇̐͆̆̋̿̆͐̄̋͘f̵̺̹̠̟̥̲̌̎̅̐̈́̽̽̒͝͠i̷̟̱̝͓͓̦͙̎̈́̔̔̀͒̄̋̋̈́̚͠c̷̞̺̖̹̞̫̬̟̦̤̫̱͛͗͆̽̔͊̽̋̅͝ȅ̷̛̦̯̩̝̜̻̎͆̍̎̎̔̀͌̕͠"
"S̸̻̤̖͙̰̼̳̍̈́̽̎͆̓̍͊͘̚͠l̷͉̟̤͈̺͉̒́̿̎̅͗̾̐͝a̸̯̲̹̱̥͓̤̩͓͂̌̈́̈́̅̒̀ǘ̶̮̜̰͓̳͕̎́͊̈́̾͋̇͐͌̚̕͜g̶̢̥̱̮̟̠̗͓̤̎̐̋͒̀͐̐̒͘̚͠h̷̼͕͎̱̤̪̦̜̟̱̘͂̽͒̍̍̓͑͊̽̇t̷̤̗͉͕͖͔̘̩̠̺͗͑̌͐͊é̴̖̪̬̝̞̼̤̫͒͌̾̏͒̏͘r̸̝͕̯̦͖͇̳̒̐̓̓̅͊̿̓͘͝͝"
Suddenly, whispers slithered into Madara's ears—unintelligible, ancient, chaotic. The language was indecipherable, yet its essence reeked of malevolence—like the cursed tongues of chaos demons. These voices weren't just sound, they carried spiritual force, attempting to invade his mind and gnaw at his sanity.
But they failed.
Madara's will and profound energy rebounded the effect instantly, unshaken.
To anyone else, these chants wouldn't even be audible. Even standing in his place, they would hear nothing. But if they dared to hold this katana… it would immediately start corrupting their mind, twisting their sanity into something demonic.
Only those who had stepped into the Emperor Profound Realm had any chance of resisting. Otherwise, the consequences would be catastrophic.
After all, Madara had already experienced this firsthand, two years ago.
Back then, he had summoned Enma into his hands the same way. But that time, he was unprepared.
He felt his soul being consumed, his mind torn apart by an invisible force, his spirit corroding from the inside out. He couldn't understand what was happening, he couldn't even hear the whispers then. All he could do was muster every ounce of willpower he had, just enough to give himself a split second to force the blade back into the system storage.
Since that day, he hadn't dared to summon it again unless he enters the emperor profound realm.
Though, when he succeeded in doing so, came an unexpected gift, an innate ability
The Sound of All Things.
A rare power originating from the One Piece world. This ability allowed him to hear the unspoken, to listen to the voices and will of all things, living or not. He could sense intent, emotion, and even the forgotten history of objects and the world itself.
Madara didn't know why he possessed such an ability, but he understood it had awakened the moment he entered the Emperor Profound Realm.
That's why, now, he could hear what others couldn't—the demonic chants that clawed at his mind.
With calm certainty, Madara moved his right hand and placed it on Enma's hilt. Without hesitation or doubt, he drew the blade from its scabbard in one smooth motion. The katana sliced through the air, leaving behind a visible, lingering cut—a testament to its terrifying sharpness.
He stared at the weapon now in his grasp.
Its blade shimmered in dark purple, glowing faintly like a moonlit reflection in a pool of blood. The whispers had ceased entirely.
Madara narrowed his eyes, prepared for whatever might come next.
But nothing did.
Seconds passed in silence. No pulse. No tremor. No resistance. The katana remained quiet in his grip.
Madara frowned, suspicious but vigilant, his instincts on full alert.
He began to raise the blade for closer inspection but suddenly froze.
Not because he chose to.
Because he couldn't move at all.
His eyes widened. He tried to circulate his profound strength—but it was completely suppressed.
'This is...' His eyes darted down in alarm as a dark purple, solidified aura began to spread from the katana in his hand. The blade pulsed with a violent, raw energy—vivid and unnatural. The aura crawled up his right hand, encasing it like living armor, then slithered along his arm with a creeping inevitability.
It moved slowly toward his neck, but spread faster across his torso, branching down his midsection and lower body simultaneously. In moments, both his upper and lower body were engulfed, the ominous aura creeping higher—reaching his throat, his jaw, and finally his face.
Then, it crept over his eyes.
Darkness swallowed his vision. Total, suffocating darkness.
Madara felt his consciousness shifted. He opened his eyes to see himself in an unfamiliar place.
His body vanished—he no longer felt weight, gravity, or form. When his eyes opened again, he was somewhere else entirely.
A void.
But not black.
It was blood-red, infinite and pulsating with chaos. The space was broken—floating pieces of evil, twisted universes drifted around him like shattered memories. He heard it then—a sound that didn't reach the ears but crashed directly into the soul.
Screams. Not one. Not thousands.
Countless.
Millions. Trillions. Wailing in agony, in torment beyond comprehension. Each scream carried the weight of eternal suffering. Echoes of beings burned, crushed, consumed—forever trapped. This wasn't simply a void.
This was Hell.
Madara instinctively turned his gaze forward. His vision blurred—no, it was obstructed. Something stood there.
No... someone.
Or... something that shouldn't be.
A figure. Its form could not be defined—towering, ancient, and unmeasurable. It had devil-like horns, but no visible body. The silhouette spanned infinitly, as if the void itself bent around it. It could not be seen, yet it was there—inhuman, obscene, beyond comprehension.
And with its mere presence, reality shattered.
Concepts like size, identity, time, and even origin—all became meaningless. Existence itself bent and broke beneath itsvery presensse. And somehow… within that impossible figure…
Madara saw himself.
He didn't know why. But he felt it. A part of him resided in that being—or perhaps, the being resided within him.
The pressure was unlike anything he had known. It didn't crush his body—it shattered his mind. It screamed taboo. Looking at it was like tearing at the seams of sanity. It couldn't be understood, spoken of, or even remembered properly.
Then—it opened its eyes.
Boundless, ancient, infinite eyes locked onto Madara.
And it saw him.
The being lifted its arm—slowly—and stretched a hand toward him. That hand, too, was infinite. Madara looked up at it, and suddenly he was no more than a grain of dust in an endless sea.
The hand closed.
Everything turned black.
"Let go!"
The voice wasn't spoken. It echoed—through dimensions, through reality, through truth itself. It shattered identity. It dug into Madara's mind, spirit, soul.
"Let go of everything!"
Something was trying to take him.
"Let go!"
It crawled out of his chest—something dark, violent, and hellish, chained deep in the core of his being. It tried to break free, to consume him, to replace him.
A thought came to Madara.
'Who… am I?'
His mind spiraled. He couldn't remember. His name? His purpose?
'My name is ####'
He uttered a name—not Madara's, but a foreign name. A name not meant to be spoken, a name not meant to be known.
Part of his sanity vanished. His identity began to fade.
'I am the bringer of the end.'
He didn't know why he thought it. But now... half of him was gone.
'I am ###—No…'
His last thought formed, a whisper of an ending he didn't understand.
But something inside him refused.
His consciousness, his will, his defiance, everything that made him—roared against the tide.
A flicker of clarity ignited in his fading eyes.
'I am not ###...'
He began to resist.
'I am the bringer of the end, but...'
Many would think the being was thinking this, not Madara. But no. He thought it.
'My name is not ####...'
A wave of clarity surged. The name was coming back. The name that meant him.
"Remember… my name is... Uchiha Madara."
And with that declaration, the world shook.
From deep within his soul, a pressure exploded, rivaling that of the silhouette itself. A wave of dark red energy surged outward, tearing the space around him. Red and black lightning danced across the void, tearing through illusion and falsehood.
The dimension around him cracked, like glass beneath a hammer.
Shatter.
Everything around him collapsed.
Madara gasped, eyes flying open as reality returned. He was back. Back in his body. Sweat poured down his face as he struggled to catch his breath. The katana in his hand had stopped glowing—the aura faded, calm now, as if recognizing him, forming a link to him.
He could also move again.
"Huu." Exhaling sharply, Madara calmed his breath and slowly sheathed the katana back into its scabbard.
But that experience... it refused to leave his mind.
'Was that... the spirit of Enma?' He wondered, his gaze lingering on the blade now resting quietly in his hand.
Yet he quickly shook his head.
No, whatever that was, it went far beyond the presence of any weapon spirit.
That entity... it made his heart palpitate—a rare, unfamiliar sensation.
It felt too real. It didn't feel like a dream nor an illusion but reality.
A presence that existed somewhere, out there.
And oddly... he had seen himself in it.
Not his face, not his form, but his shadow, as if that impossible figure was... a reflection of his very soul.
It was unexplainable in words, but he could feel it—deeply, instinctively.
As though that unfathomable being was him.
Or perhaps, what he would one day become.
He shook his head once more. Whatever it was... it defied the scope of understanding. It existed beyond meaning, beyond logic.
With that, he placed the katana into his system storage and was just about to take off, when he noticed something.
"Did I affect the outside world too?" He glanced around taking in the surroundings which he didn't notice before considering he was too focused on one thing.
The ground beneath him was now a massive crater. A hundred miles in every direction lay in ruin. Trees shattered, the earth ruptured and inverted into a bowl of devastation.
Above him, the air still crackled, black and red lightning scars sparked across the sky, faintly flickering, glowing, refusing to fade.
It seemed that his will had erupted into the outside world as well.
Like the manifestation of Conqueror's Haki, but this was a deeper, raw and primal will that bent the very structure of the world.
"Well... time to head out." He turned away from the destruction, not dwelling on such matter.
In the next moment, he vanished.
His destination, the Phoenix Clan.
But he wasn't moving aimlessly.
Yes, there was no map in his hand, no guide to follow.
And yet... he knew exactly where to go.
The Sound of All Things.
He could hear it.
Not words, not voices, but the very breath of the world itself.
The wind whispered, the trees hummed, even the still air carried a direction. To others, it would be silence. But to him, it was guidance.
The air changed ever so slightly, carrying subtle vibrations. A resonance that pointed the way forward.
He could hear the will of the world itself... and it was leading him to his prey.