"You know, I'm dying to see what Madara would looks like after this."
Kushina stared at Uchiha Madara, who stood motionless in the center of the room like a statue, undergoing a profound internal metamorphosis. "Do you really think this Arrancar transformation will work?"
"Of course it will," Mikoto replied, not even looking up as she casually fed a peeled grape to Yuto. "Yuto isn't even breaking a sweat. That's the best sign we could have."
"Yeah, but what's he even seeing in there?" Kushina pressed, her curiosity getting the better of her. "It's taking forever. And he doesn't exactly look like he's having a good time."
And she was right.
A mental breakdown mid-transformation was the worst-case scenario, leading to one of two spectacularly awful outcomes: either you become a complete dud (vegetable), forever stuck where you are, or you turn into a mindless animal. And once you go down either road, there's no coming back.
"I wish I could tell you," Yuto said. "I can't see whats going on. But whatever inner demons he's battling, they're no joke."
"How would you know if you can't see?" Kushina asked, a skeptical eyebrow raised.
Yuto sighed and held up his mysterious communicator, showing her the screen.
"The guy was basically texting me his last will and testament. Told me to 'carry him to Silver Rank.'"
Kushina burst out laughing. "You're kidding me! He's worried about his rank now of all times?"
"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Mikoto mused with a sigh. "Just like our dear Nana-chan here. A true rank slave at heart."
"Excuse me?" Kushina's head snapped around, her eyes narrowing. "What did you just call me?"
"Who, me?" Mikoto adopted an expression of flawless innocence, covering her mouth in mock surprise. "I didn't say a thing."
"Oh, don't you dare pull that act with me!" Kushina snorted and then, without warning, launched herself at Mikoto, tackling her onto the couch. Her hands went everywhere, and one of the straps on Mikoto's shoulder slipped down. "Whoa, hold up. Are you wearing lace? You minx!"
"Yuto-kun! A little help here?" Mikoto cried, though her laughter undermined any genuine plea.
"Think again, 'pretty lady'!" Kushina shot back, grabbing a fistful of Yuto's shirt and yanking him into the dogpile. "I'm taking you both down today!"
"You're a monster!"
"Scream all you want! It just makes this all the more fun! Ahahahaha!"
The sound of ripping fabric filled the room.
And then, everything stopped.
Kushina's head shot up, her playful rage forgotten. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! He did it! He actually pulled it off!"
"Well, he was the strongest shinobi alive once upon a time, (after hashirama died)" Mikoto said, trying to catch her breath and smooth down her hopelessly messed-up hair. "It's not that shocking."
"Still," Kushina whistled, impressed.
On the screen, Madara stood tall. The wild, chaotic energy that had been pouring off him had settled into a calm, potent aura. His eyes, once clouded and distant, were now clear and sharply focused. The white, bone-like plating that had covered his dark green patient gown was flaking away, dissolving into nothing before it even hit the floor.
"Has he stabilized?" Danzō's voice was tight, but a sliver of relief was finally visible on his grim face.
"You reckless fools! You were gambling with the entire future of Konoha!" Hiruzen Sarutobi, who had come running the moment he felt that terrifying spiritual pressure spike, finally let out the breath he'd been holding.
For a terrifying moment, he had been certain it was all over. If Madara had lost control... the village would have been erased.
"Relax, Hiruzen," Danzō said, his tone infuriatingly calm. "It worked."
"That's exactly my point! It was a gamble! Did you even consider the consequences of failure?!"
Crack. Crack.
While they argued, the last of the bone plating on Madara's face splintered. He reached up, plucked the final piece away, and let it fall.
"Remarkable," Orochimaru whispered, a genuine note of awe in his voice.
The transformation was complete. All traces of the Impure World Reincarnation were gone. His skin was smooth, his black hair was wild and full, and he looked vibrantly, alive.
"Hey, since when does he have earrings?" The Second Tsuchikage, Mū, pointed out, squinting.
Everyone looked. Sure enough, a pair of stark white, diamond-shaped earrings now hung from his ears. They gave him a more dangerous, refined edge.
"That is not your concern," Madara stated, his voice cool and level, brooking no argument. "Your concern is that from this moment on, the Allied Shinobi Forces will answer to me."
A wave of panic and muttered curses swept the room. Everyone tensed, hands subtly moving toward weapons.
"Don't bother," Madara said, his gaze flicking dismissively to Danzō, whose fingers were already twitching into a hand sign. "A rat in the gutter has more purpose than you."
WHOOSH.
It happened faster than anyone could blink. Danzō was simply thrown. He slammed into the far wall with a sickening thud, coughing up blood.
"Danzō!" Hiruzen rushed to his old friend's side.
"Madara, you've gone too far this time!" The Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, flashed in front of him, his face a mask of cold fury. "You think just because you've—"
Tobirama's words died in his throat. His eyes widened in shock. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even move a muscle.
"Interesting," Madara mused, looking down at him without a shred of emotion. "I have to admit, I didn't expect you to deliver yourself to me so willingly, Tobirama."
An invisible force—a crushing, suffocating spiritual pressure—slammed down onto Tobirama. His very soul seemed to groan under the weight. His reanimated body began to fracture and flake away at the edges.
But just as it seemed he would be crushed into nothing, the pressure vanished.
Tobirama collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping soundlessly, his eyes wide and dazed.
"Consider that a warning," Madara said, his voice flat and final. "I'm feeling generous today, only because we currently share the same enemies. Orochimaru."
The snake Sannin perked up, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Yes?"
"Starting tomorrow, you will begin the process of transforming my old friend, Hashirama."
Orochimaru's smile widened.
"Aren't you worried, Lord Madara, that the First Hokage might end up even stronger than you?"
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched Madara's lips.
"I'm counting on it."
With that, he turned and walked away, not deigning to grant any of them another glance.
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