In the dim underground cavern, Uchiha Madara, who had been sitting on a stone throne with his eyes closed in meditation, suddenly opened them.
"You're back. How did it go?"
A figure silently emerged from the ground, cradling a baby no more than a year old in his arms.
If the elder from Sunagakure were present, he would have cried out in shock—for this was none other than the Iwagakure jōnin Ichiki, the very one he had been asking about earlier.
But in truth, the real Ichiki had been killed by White Zetsu the moment he disembarked and began slaughtering the people of Uzushiogakure. The "Ichiki" now standing before Madara was a disguise.
His body twisted, and "Ichiki" reverted back to the pale, bark-like form of White Zetsu. He stepped forward with the baby in his arms, presenting the sleeping infant to Madara like a treasured offering.
"Madara-sama, this is the child I found in the Land of Whirlpools. His name is Nagato. I've examined him—he perfectly inherited the physical constitution of the Uzumaki clan.
Even with the full power of the Rinnegan, he should be able to survive for a long time—long enough for your plans to be completed.
I've also taken his mother with me. Her identity is easy to deal with. There won't be any loose ends."
Madara took the sleeping infant and examined him carefully. For a baby, he did seem unusually well-developed. But could the body of an Uzumaki truly endure the overwhelming power of the Rinnegan?
Don't misunderstand—he wasn't concerned about the baby's health. What worried him was the risk of losing the Rinnegan, which could jeopardize his entire plan.
After all, in his heart, he still favored the children of the Senju clan. Maybe... he should take a risk and kidnap Nawaki, that little brat?
From the side, Black Zetsu, an expert at reading people's expressions, noticed Madara's silent look and instantly guessed what was on his mind. Without hesitation, he emerged from the shadows and spoke:
"Madara-sama, I also believe this child's body is more than sufficient to withstand the Rinnegan's power.
But your own body won't hold out much longer. There's no time to waste—the eye transplant should begin as soon as possible. The later phases of the plan are more important, aren't they?
And even if he eventually can't endure the Rinnegan, you'll have enough time to find another pawn, right?"
Madara snapped out of his thoughts. That was true. This child was just a vessel, a tool for his resurrection. If he turned out obedient, great—no need to find another. If not, well, Madara could always choose someone else later to inherit the eyes.
"Understood," Madara said calmly.
He didn't hesitate any longer. He chose Nagato and began the eye transplant.
About half an hour later, Madara stared at the child in his hands, now sporting purple Rinnegan eyes, looking rather displeased.
As for Madara himself, the Rinnegan in his own eye sockets had been replaced with an ordinary three-tomoe Sharingan—ones he had previously cultivated and stored inside the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path.
But having them in his head now felt awkward.
It wasn't a physical rejection—it was psychological.
Like a supreme VIP suddenly being dropped down to the level of a regular player—it stung.
Still, for the sake of his grand plan, he endured it.
As long as he could be resurrected, regain his youth, and obtain even greater power, short-term sacrifices didn't matter.
Trying to reassure himself, he handed the baby back to White Zetsu. Then, raising a hand toward the Demonic Statue, he summoned another White Zetsu.
Madara glanced between the two Zetsus, then frowned slightly. After a pause, he pointed to the original one and said:
"You will be responsible for the child's safety from now on. It doesn't matter what pain, suffering, or despair he experiences—just make sure he survives. He must not die.
And to differentiate between you two... from now on, your name will be Tobi."
White Zetsu—now called Tobi—held Nagato in his arms and lit up with a strange, pleased smile.
"Understood, Madara-sama."
Just as Tobi turned to leave, Madara suddenly asked:
"By the way... what's the situation with the Land of Whirlpools? Were they wiped out?"
Tobi paused in his tracks, clearly excited by the topic. He turned back around with a grin:
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! You won't believe this—they weren't wiped out! They were actually saved by six Konoha brats.
Hmm... actually, that's not accurate. It wasn't six people. It was really just one."
Madara raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"One person was able to save the people of the Land of Whirlpools from hundreds of Jonin? Who is this brat? Which clan is he from?"
Tobi's expression turned gleeful.
"That's the strange part—he's just a civilian-born shinobi, no notable bloodline. Name's Gekkō Hoshiyomi. We didn't pay attention to him before, so we barely have any intel.
But in this Land of Whirlpools incident, he played a decisive role. First, he brought reinforcements.
Then, before they arrived, he singlehandedly intimidated the invading forces with his strength. And finally, he devised a plan with the Uzumaki clan leader to trick the enemy into turning on each other using ships.
And it actually worked! Those fools really fought each other at sea—Kirigakure and Kumogakure turned on Iwagakure and Sunagakure, killed their shinobi, and split the obtained sealing jutsu between them."
Tobi recounted the events with dramatic flair. Even Madara raised his eyebrows slightly after hearing it all.
"Hmph... the kid's got some wits. But that's all he is. Without a powerful bloodline, his achievements will be limited. At best, he might become one of those so-called Kage-level shinobi.
He'll never surpass Hashirama. Probably not even that little brother of his."
Madara dismissed him without hesitation. In his eyes, Hoshiyomi had no chance of interfering with the Eye of the Moon Plan.
He had briefly been curious—wondering if Hoshiyomi might pose a threat—but the moment he heard the boy had no kekkei genkai, his interest evaporated.
Madara was no Orochimaru.
Orochimaru had an innate thirst for knowledge. He believed research could reshape fate and bring about true immortality. That's why he studied anything that piqued his curiosity.
Before he tasted the despair of the Mangekyō Sharingan, Orochimaru still clung to those ideals. It wasn't until after his resurrection during the Fourth Great War—when Kage-level fighters were everywhere—that he realized the chasm between science and cheaters, and finally chose to submit and reinvent himself.
But Madara was different. Misled by Black Zetsu, he had known from the start that bloodline and destiny reigned supreme.
To him, anyone without Ōtsutsuki lineage or a Six Paths bloodline was trash—background characters, at best.
So he passed judgment without a second thought:
Gekkō Hoshiyomi was nothing more than a flopping fish on dry land.