The night was silent, yet in the heart of the Uchiha compound, the silence trembled under the heavy pressure of battle.
The air was tense, filled with the faint scent of blood and burning wood, remnants of the earlier conflict.
The streets lay cracked and broken, faint trails of chakra still pulsing across the ground like veins of light.
At the center of that tension stood two figures, locked in a silent contest of willpower and dominance.
One was cloaked in shadows, a swirling mask with a single hollow eye staring outward. His posture exuded arrogance and confidence, as though he were a phantom who controlled life and death itself.
This was the masked man — Obito Uchiha, though to the world he wore the disguise of Madara Uchiha. His presence was menacing, his chakra leaking in irregular, suffocating waves that warped the air around him.
Facing him was another figure, a young man who carried the aura of both pride and overwhelming confidence. His hair swayed gently in the breeze, his expression calm and steady even in the face of an enemy whose name carried dread.
This was Indra Uchiha — the transmigrator who now stood as the unexpected savior of his clan. His body was steady, his gaze unshaken, and his chakra flared with controlled precision.
From afar, Itachi Uchiha, still battered and injured, struggled to keep his body upright. He leaned against a broken wall, his crimson Sharingan eyes fixed on the two figures preparing to clash.
His chest rose and fell heavily, each breath a painful reminder of his wounds, yet he could not look away. Something inside him demanded that he witness this battle to its end.
The masked man spoke first, his tone filled with a cold arrogance that cut through the silence.
"Do you truly wish to oppose me, boy? You are but a flicker in the vast darkness of the Uchiha's history, while I…" His voice rose, proud and defiant. "…I am the ghost of the Uchiha, the shura, the name that shakes the shinobi world. I am Madara Uchiha!"
Indra's face remained still, his eyes showing neither fear nor awe.
His expression was so calm that it seemed to infuriate the masked man further. With a voice firm, steady, and laced with subtle mockery, Indra answered.
"Sorry, senior. I do not know you. Our Uchiha clan has many who call themselves the strongest in the world. You sound just like them."
The words cut deep, their meaning clear — the arrogance of countless Uchiha elders meant nothing to him, and this masked man was no different.
For a moment, a visible twitch spread across the masked man's lips beneath his mask.
Rage flickered in his single visible eye, but he suppressed it, forcing his posture back into cold confidence.
"Arrogant boy…" Obito muttered, though even he could not shake the strange feeling clawing inside him.
Why did this guy seem to look straight through his disguise, as though mocking the very mask he wore?
The tension rose higher, chakra flaring like a storm. The ground itself trembled, small cracks spreading across the stone beneath their feet.
Then, without another word, the battle began.
The masked man's body blurred as he moved forward, his form flickering and vanishing into distortion. Kamui — the power of his Mangekyō Sharingan, the dimension of warping space itself.
His body shifted between reality and unreality, confusing enemies by making attacks phase harmlessly through him. It was a deadly ability, one that had rendered countless shinobi helpless.
But Indra did not falter.
His eyes narrowed slightly, golden crimson tomoe of his mutated Sharingan spinning with terrifying speed.
His body shifted to the side just as the masked man's kunai sliced through empty air, phasing back into reality for the briefest of moments.
Sparks flared as Indra countered with a blade strike, the sound of steel slicing through the air sharp enough to cut the silence itself.
The blade connected — but phased straight through Obito's intangible body.
Obito's visible eye curved slightly with mocking confidence. "Futile. You cannot touch me."
But Indra's lips curled into the faintest smile.
"I know how Kamui works."
The words struck like thunder.
Obito's eye widened behind the mask. For the first time, he felt something more than irritation — he felt unease. This boy… how could he know?
Indra did not explain. Instead, he pressed forward with relentless precision. Every strike he launched was measured, not wild.
Every step he took was calculated, pressing Obito into reacting, forcing him to phase in and out of reality at predictable intervals.
His fists struck like hammers, his kicks cracked the air with explosive force, and his blade arcs cut the very stone beneath their feet.
From afar, Itachi's breathing quickened as he watched. Each move was deliberate, as though Indra was unraveling the very mystery of Obito's technique before his eyes.
The masked man retaliated, forming hand seals in a blur. Fire Release surged forth, great roaring flames erupting like a storm of hellfire.
The sky glowed crimson as the inferno washed across the battlefield, consuming everything in its path. The heat was unbearable, scorching the walls and searing the ground into molten cracks.
But Indra advanced through the flames, his body weaving with precision, his chakra cloaking him in a defensive aura that broke apart the heat waves.
His Sharingan spun, tracking every flicker of movement, every subtle distortion that marked when Obito phased in and out of his Kamui dimension.
A punch flew — straight at Obito's chest.
The masked man smirked, allowing it to phase through him again. But this time, Indra followed immediately with a second strike, angled perfectly for the moment Obito had to solidify again.
The blow connected.
A thunderous crack echoed as Obito's body was hurled backward, smashing into a broken wall with explosive force.
Dust and stone fragments erupted outward, the entire structure collapsing around him.
From his distant vantage, Itachi's eyes widened, disbelief washing across his battered face.
To see the masked man struck — to see someone actually land a blow on this elusive figure — was beyond his imagination.
The dust settled.
Obito emerged from the rubble, his body scratched, his mask cracked slightly across the surface. His single visible eye burned with rage, his voice a low growl as he glared at Indra.
"You insolent brat…"
But Indra stood calmly, his body relaxed, his eyes unshaken. His voice, soft but firm, carried across the battlefield.
"Kamui is powerful. But every ability has its limits. Once I know those limits… you cannot defeat me."
The words were not boastful. They were matter-of-fact, like a statement carved into stone.
Obito snarled, chakra surging wildly around him. His body blurred again, flickering with Kamui distortions as he attempted to overwhelm Indra with speed, teleportation, and untouchable attacks.
Kunai slashed through the air, shuriken sliced across the ground, and explosive tags detonated in waves of concussive force.
But Indra was always there, his movements fluid, his timing precise.
He stepped through the explosions as though dancing between death and destruction, each movement of his Sharingan guiding him with uncanny foresight.
Every dodge was exact. Every counterstrike was merciless.
From afar, Itachi's chest tightened as he watched. His hand clenched at his side, blood dripping down his fingers, but he could not look away.
The guy before him… Indra… he fought like no other Uchiha. His calmness was unnatural, his confidence unwavering.
The clash raged on, sparks of chakra colliding, the very ground fracturing under the force of their combat.
Indra's blade gleamed with sharp precision, his fists cracked the air with brutal force, while Obito's Kamui flickers created a battle of reality itself bending and breaking.
The Uchiha compound was in ruins, the once proud streets reduced to rubble under the might of their confrontation.
And still, neither backed down.
The air within the Uchiha compound was heavy, the weight of blood, betrayal, and battle pressing down like a suffocating cloak.
Rubble lay scattered from earlier clashes, the moonlight bleeding over the broken tiles, casting long shadows.
A deadly silence lingered for a fleeting moment, only to be ripped apart by the unrelenting force of two titans clashing — Indra Uchiha against the masked man, Obito Uchiha.
From the distance, Itachi, still battered, leaned against a broken wall, his eyes hazy yet sharp enough to catch every movement.
His Mangekyō Sharingan glowed faintly through the fatigue, observing what seemed impossible — a fight that tore through the very foundation of his beliefs.
Obito straightened himself after the initial exchanges. His cloak fluttered as his masked face tilted upward. His single Sharingan eye blazed like an ember of destruction.
His voice carried arrogance, but there was a trace of strain in it.
"You're persistent, boy. No one has ever seen through my Kamui so easily. Do you think you can stand against me, the ghost of Uchiha?"
Indra's lips curved into a faint, almost mocking smile. His golden-tinted Sharingan swirled with confidence, and his voice carried not fear but disdain.
"Ghost of Uchiha? You hide behind masks and lies. Even your power isn't yours — it's borrowed, stolen, manipulated.
You rely on deception to claim strength. But I… I rely on myself. And that is why you'll lose."
Obito's eye narrowed. His chakra surged violently, warping the air around him. "Then try and survive this."
The ground cracked beneath him as Obito blurred forward, faster than a human eye could trace.
His chains, forged with chakra and meant to bind even tailed beasts, lashed out with monstrous speed.
They hissed through the air like serpents, aiming to pierce Indra's limbs and drag him into Kamui's dimension.
But Indra stepped calmly to the side, his movement so precise it seemed he had already predicted the attack.
His Sharingan glowed, reading the flow of chakra, reading the intent.
One chain missed his torso by a hair's breadth; another struck the ground where he had been standing a second ago, pulverizing the tiles into dust.
Obito snarled beneath the mask. He shifted again, his body warping between reality and intangibility. His figure flickered — there, then gone, then behind Indra. A kunai wrapped in explosive tags slashed through the air.
But Indra turned, golden tomoe spinning, his fist colliding with Obito's intangible body. And yet, the strike connected, shocking Obito.
"How—?!" Obito hissed, his body staggering back. His Sharingan widened.
Indra's voice was calm, almost amused. "I already told you. I know how your Kamui works.
You phase through space, sending parts of yourself into your dimension, but there's always a moment when you must return to solid form. And that moment… belongs to me."
Before Obito could recover, Indra pressed forward, fists and kicks striking with brutal precision.
Each blow was sharp, calculated, as if dissecting Obito's every weakness. Obito barely warped away in time, but each dodge left him panting heavier, his chest rising and falling under the pressure.
From afar, Itachi's eyes widened. He's… countering that strange spacial ability? No, not just countering… he's overwhelming it.
Obito's fury flared. "Don't think you've won just because you've glimpsed a weakness. Kamui is invincible! You cannot defeat what you cannot touch!"
His chakra surged violently, and this time his body completely vanished into the swirling vortex of Kamui.
The ground cracked as the warping force expanded, and then — dozens of kunai emerged from distorted space, raining down in every direction, each tagged with deadly explosives.
The battlefield erupted into flames as detonations consumed the compound. The shockwaves roared, fire licking the night sky, smoke spiraling into the heavens.
Through the inferno, a silhouette emerged, untouched. Indra stood tall, his cloak scorched but his eyes unwavering.
His Sharingan glowed brighter than the flames themselves. His aura radiated dominance.
Obito reappeared behind him, blade in hand, aiming straight for Indra's heart. The weapon hummed with chakra, a strike meant to end everything in one blow.
But Indra tilted his head, his golden eyes locking onto Obito. His hand shot back, catching the blade mid-swing. Sparks erupted as chakra clashed.
"Impossible!" Obito's voice cracked with disbelief.
Indra's smile widened. "You're too predictable."
With one motion, he twisted the blade, shattering it into fragments, and slammed his palm into Obito's chest.
The impact echoed like thunder, sending Obito flying backward, crashing into the broken remains of a wall. The masked man coughed violently, blood seeping beneath the mask.
Still, he staggered back to his feet, rage burning in his lone eye. "No… I am Madara Uchiha's heir! I will not be defeated by a child!"
His chakra spiked once more, Kamui vortexes swirling around his body. His movements became erratic, phasing in and out of dimensions with terrifying speed, striking from every angle.
To the untrained eye, it seemed like hundreds of Obitos were attacking simultaneously, blades and chains striking like storms.
But Indra's Sharingan traced it all. His body flowed like water, weaving between attacks, redirecting strikes with minimal movement. Each dodge was elegant yet merciless, like a predator toying with prey.
Finally, as Obito phased in for a decisive strike, Indra's fist collided with his mask. The impact cracked it, splintering fragments across the ground.
Obito staggered, half his face revealed, his Sharingan glaring with unyielding hatred.
Indra's voice was sharp, cutting through the battlefield. "You wear a mask because deep down, you know the truth. You're not Madara. You're just — a coward hiding behind lies."
Obito's rage exploded. His eye spun violently, his body fully warping into Kamui dimension. For a moment, he disappeared entirely.
Itachi's breath caught. Did he escape? Or is he preparing something greater?
But Indra remained calm, his Sharingan glowing brighter, his chakra flaring like a storm. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling, then exhaled slowly.
And then, as Obito phased back into existence behind him, Indra's hand lashed out with perfect timing — grabbing Obito's throat before he could react.
Obito's eye widened in shock. "No… impossible… you… you can't…"
Indra tightened his grip, lifting the masked man effortlessly, slamming him into the ground with bone-shattering force. The earth quaked, dust erupting around them.
Obito coughed violently, blood splattering the ground, his chakra flickering. His Kamui failed to activate under Indra's crushing dominance.
Indra leaned closer, his golden Sharingan glowing with finality. "Your lies end here. Your mask shatters. Your Kamui fails. And you… lose."
With one final strike, Indra's fist connected with Obito's chest, sending shockwaves through his body. The masked man collapsed, defeated, his chakra dispersing into nothingness.
Silence blanketed the battlefield.
From afar, Itachi's eyes trembled. His body shook, not from injury but from disbelief.
He defeated him… He defeated the masked man… He defeated easily …
Indra stood amidst the ruins, his cloak fluttering in the wind, his gaze unwavering, his dominance absolute.
And thus, the battle ended.
---
End of Chapter
---
Want to read advanced chapter?
Give me your stone to this novel to reach the milestone that will give you bonus chapter per day!!!
10-20 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter / Day
20-30 Power Stones = 2 Bonus Chapters / Day
30-40 Power Stones = 3 Bonus Chapters / Day
Please support me?
See ya!