A sharp, cold wrongness crawled over Uchiha Madara's skin, a sensation entirely separate from the crushing spiritual pressure.
Sinister, dark patterns slithered up his arms, across his chest—spreading everywhere. They felt alien and deeply unsettling.
"Feel that?" his double—a twisted, blackened mirror—asked with a lazy, cruel grin. "Bet you're feeling weak. And when those marks finally cover you completely... care to guess what happens next?"
"Death?" Madara bit out, his voice dripping with the contempt he'd wielded like a weapon for a lifetime.
As if that could frighten him.
The blackened copy of him only laughed.
"You think death is the worst thing I can do to you? Come on, I'm you. I know you don't care about dying. But there are things way, way worse. Like... taking away the one thing you never even thought you could lose. Your masculinity."
That got his full attention.
"What did you say?"
"Your manhood. Gone. Poof." As the words left its mouth, the copy's form began to shift. Its shoulders softened, its chest swelled beneath the dark armour, and the sharp, aggressive line of its jaw rounded into something infuriatingly delicate. "See? Fascinating, isn't it?"
The voice that finished the sentence was light, melodic, and undeniably female.
'Oh, hell no.'
Madara kept his face a stony mask, but inside, he was freaking out. Feminization? That was its power? This thing was supposed to be his inner darkness, his rage and ambition given form. Since when was this part of the package?
"Don't fret, Madara," the now-female clone crooned, her smile taking on a wicked edge. "You'll be joining me soon enough. How thrilling! You'll make a perfect magical girl."
That was the final straw. Madara's eyes snapped wide, the familiar lavender ripples of the Rinnegan swirling into existence.
"Limbo: Border Jail!"
Invisible shadows, extensions of his will, shot forth from all directions to pin the creature down.
"Ugh, this again? How tedious." Black Madara—Black Madara-chan?—clicked her tongue and swept her obsidian sword downward.
"Black Hum."
A wave of pure, silent darkness pulsed outward, an absolute negation. It washed over the limbo clones, and they simply... vanished. Erased from existence.
Then the wave hit him.
Crackle.
The black patterns on his skin flared with malignant energy, spreading like wildfire until they covered every inch of him. And he felt it—a deep, fundamental shift beginning within his very cells. A terrifying... softening.
"YOU BASTARD!"
Now, true panic set in. Strategy and dignity were forgotten. He poured every ounce of his chakra into a blind, raging assault. Fireballs the size of buildings scorched the air, eruptions of earth and torrents of water turned the mental landscape into a chaotic warzone.
He could not let this happen. Even if he won, even if he achieved his perfect form... if he had to do it looking like that, how could he ever show his face? He would genuinely rather die.
"HAHAHAHA!" Her laughter sliced through the cataclysm, loud and unhinged. "Is this it? The great Uchiha Madara? The legendary Indra of the Shinobi World? Pathetic! If this is all you've got, you might as well just surren—"
He didn't let her finish. In a flash of motion, he was above her, fist pulled back and descending like a meteor.
"Shut up," he snarled.
BOOM.
The punch should have vaporized her. Instead, she caught it with a single, effortless palm. The resulting shockwave rattled the very fabric of the space around them.
"Not bad. Use the flashy jutsu as a distraction, then go for the knockout blow. Clever." Her tone was dripping with mockery. "But you're still hopelessly out of your league."
She flicked her wrist.
Madara felt the impact before he registered the movement. The world spun, and he cratered the ground, coughing up blood he shouldn't even have. Right, this was all in his head. Of course it would feel real.
He tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled and gave out. He was completely and utterly drained. The black patterns were now glowing brightly, humming with power.
"Ohooo! It's happening!" his double squealed in delight. "The big, bad Madara Uchiha is going to become a crybaby girl! This is the best thing I've ever seen!"
Dammit...
He wanted to rip that smug look right off her face. But he couldn't move a muscle. Was this truly how it ended? Not in an epic battle for the fate of the world, but like this? He'd never even get his ranked account to Silver...
Wait. Why was that the thought that popped into his head right now?
A familiar, chat window materialized in his mind's eye.
[Dumb Snack]: hey old man. u still kickin in there?
Madara blinked.
[Dumb Snack]: hello? earth to madara. u turn into a magical girl yet or what?
[Magical Girl]: SHUT UP.
[Dumb Snack]: so u are alive! my pep talk worked! u got this?
[Magical Girl]: It's... stronger than I thought.
[Dumb Snack]: ok. Well, don't die. Let me know if you need anything.
Madara took a mental breath. This was it. His final, desperate request.
[Magical Girl]: I'm messaging you my login info. You need to get my account to Silver.
There was a long, long pause.
"???"
Yuto, on the other end, looked lost. Of all the last requests he was expecting, "please grind my game rank" was not on the list.
He couldn't see the mental battle, but he could see Madara's real body flickering dangerously, the containment seals were starting to fail. He was about to jump in and help subdue it himself, and this is what the guy was worried about?
[Magical Girl]: I'm serious.
[Dumb Snack]: dude. are you... is this like a last will and testament thing?
[Magical Girl]: PRETTY MUCH.
[Dumb Snack]: it's just an inner demon. it can't actually kill you, right? It's a part of you.
[Magical Girl]: You don't understand! This one's different!
[Dumb Snack]: worse than death?
[Magical Girl]: YES.
[Dumb Snack]: well... have you tried just, like, accepting it? y'know. like in bleach. lean into it. be the hollow.
And just like that, it clicked.
Accept it.
That was the answer. This thing was a part of him. It couldn't destroy him without destroying itself. The standard procedure for such a confrontation was to embrace it, to merge with it and emerge stronger on the other side.
'But... accept this? The frills? The high-pitched voice? The... everything?'
Madara looked at his grinning double and felt a whole new kind of dread wash over him.
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