Time: Year 5 of the Shinobi Republic.
After the world was unified, a period of recovery and reorganization followed. The workload finally began to ease, and life gradually stabilized.
Which meant Uchiha Yōrin's "final battle" could finally move from plan to execution.
With Black Zetsu's help, he first located Uchiha Madara's corpse. Then he picked a spot and prepared to cast the Rinne Rebirth Technique.
Madara's body was preserved perfectly, so there was no need for Edo Tensei. He could revive him directly.
Yes—Rinne Rebirth.
By now, Yōrin possessed a hybrid eye that combined the Rinnegan with a nine-tomoe Sharingan. Perfectly reasonable, really.
He could cast Rinne Rebirth effortlessly, without paying any price—no "use it and die" outcome like Nagato had.
…
Black Zetsu whispered, voice trembling, "So… it's finally today?"
All those years of waiting. The longing. The humiliation. The indignities—especially after meeting Uchiha Yōrin—piled up in Black Zetsu's chest until he nearly burst into tears.
But the moment he remembered that if Kaguya revived, she'd probably just get bullied by this man again, he somehow cried even harder.
And then Yōrin, naturally, had to salt the wound.
"These are tears of joy, right, kid?"
"…Yeah," Black Zetsu ground out through clenched teeth, fantasizing for the thousandth time about betrayal.
Then he sighed inwardly: better to focus on how to survive under "Grand Minister Yōrin" instead.
Kaguya's pride and status were going to explode the moment she came back. He'd have to talk her down.
While he was still thinking, Yōrin snapped his fingers and casually cast Rinne Rebirth.
And then came the moment of truth.
First: a finger twitched—meaninglessly.
Then: eyelids fluttered once or twice.
The body began to respond.
In only a few minutes, Uchiha Madara—dead for decades—actually came back to life.
Well… technically, Madara hadn't been dead that many years in the original timeline. But that wasn't the point.
The point was: he revived. For real.
Yōrin had already used revival techniques like Self-Rebirth plenty of times, but watching a true resurrection again still felt unreal.
He didn't speak. He just watched Madara with amused, curious eyes—watching the former tyrant, the warlord, the legendary ancestor.
Madara drew breath, mind still stuck in the past.
"So I'm alive… That means my plan succeeded?"
In his head, he'd died only a short time ago. His "Obito cultivation plan" must have worked. That idiot actually pulled it off. That's why Madara had been revived.
Obito… grew up after all. Madara almost felt magnanimous for half a second—until his eyes narrowed.
Wait.
Who the hell is this?
A man stood there—more domineering than Obito by a thousand times, stronger by ten thousand, and so absurdly handsome it was insulting—staring at Madara like this was entertainment.
That gaze alone made Madara furious. Even Senju Hashirama didn't get to look at him like that.
"Youngster. Who are you? Were you the one who revived me?"
He straightened, arrogance returning like muscle memory.
"You've earned a reward… but first, someone needs to teach you respect."
He went to activate the Rinnegan—right, no Rinnegan. Those eyes were long gone, given to Nagato. The fact he could even see with both eyes was already proof of how potent Rinne Rebirth was.
So instead of fancy ocular techniques, Madara did what he trusted most: brutal, direct taijutsu—launching himself at Yōrin.
"Let me show you—"
The next second, Madara was sent flying hundreds of kilometers with a casual strike, slammed into a mountainside like a nail, and stuck there.
He stared into the rock, eyes blown wide with disbelief.
What the hell…? How long was I gone? Since when do "kids" hit like this?!
And then Yōrin blinked in with Flying Thunder God, appearing right in front of him.
With a smile that was polite in the way a knife is polite, Yōrin said, "Someone does need a lesson in hierarchy, yes. But it's definitely not me. Madara-sama."
Calling him "-sama" at that moment was pure mockery.
Madara didn't answer. He turned his head sharply—looking past Yōrin to Black Zetsu, who was standing there like an obedient little lackey.
His glare screamed: Aren't you my will incarnate? Explain. Now.
Black Zetsu's expression turned cold.
"Pathetic Uchiha Madara. This is no longer your era."
He spoke quickly, almost viciously.
"Not long after your death, Uchiha Yorin-sama rose to power. He united all shinobi, revived the Ninshū, unified the world, founded the Shinobi Republic, advanced technology, expanded education and medical care."
"Five years," Zetsu emphasized. "In five years, the Five Great Nations were destroyed. The world now has only one country: the Shinobi Republic. And Yorin-sama is the conqueror and ruler of the world."
Madara's face went blank.
"…That's insane. I've been dead a few years and the world turned into something I can't even recognize?"
He didn't say it out loud, but his expression was practically shouting it.
Yōrin watched him, then sighed softly—less mocking now, more like someone watching an old legend realize time has moved on.
And he decided to stop playing around.
"Your era is over, Madara," Yōrin said calmly. "Under my rule, the shinobi world has achieved lasting peace. There's no need to fight anymore."
To Madara, that was impossible to accept.
His first instinct was denial—No. Impossible.—the kind of stubborn pride that had defined him his whole life.
But then Yōrin simply put a hand on his shoulder and used Flying Thunder God to drag him across the world—showing him the reality of the new order.
In the face of undeniable proof, Madara fell silent.
After a long pause, he finally asked, voice rough:
"Then why revive me?"
Yōrin answered evenly. "Because I have a reason."
He continued, "This world faces a new threat. The Ōtsutsuki—invaders from beyond this world—pose a danger to everything. We need to defend against them. Eventually, we'll have to take the fight into space, strike back, and eliminate them—for the sake of the entire universe."
Madara stared at him, utterly lost.
"…What the hell are you talking about?"
He looked like he'd been revived into the wrong genre.
At that point, Black Zetsu—grimacing like he was chewing glass—filled Madara in:
Kaguya's true identity. Hagoromo and his "unfortunate little brother." The ancient feud between Uchiha and Senju. Indra and Asura's reincarnations. Fate. The whole cursed history.
It was the kind of lore dump that could fill two hundred episodes of flashback—compressed into a single sitting.
Madara looked like his brain had overheated.
"So," he said at last, locking eyes with Yōrin again, "you revived me because you want to recruit me. An ally. To fight the Ōtsutsuki."
Madara's mind was already calculating: cooperate, build power, then decide later whether he could replace this upstart. If Yōrin ever slipped… he could be taken.
But then Yōrin spoke again, and it was like someone slapped Madara across the face with reality.
"Oh, I think you misunderstood," Yōrin said lightly. "I'm not recruiting you as my subordinate. Your strength is honestly too mediocre compared to the Ōtsutsuki."
Madara: "…?"
Yōrin continued, totally casual.
"What I need you to do is gather the tailed beasts and cast Infinite Tsukuyomi to revive Ōtsutsuki Kaguya."
"The legendary Rabbit Goddess—that's the one I intend to subdue and make my subordinate."
"She's at least a Six-Paths-level fighter, and she's a beautiful woman. She's a lot more useful than you."
Madara's brain stalled.
He wasn't confused by the words.
He was offended by the sheer audacity.
He—Uchiha Madara—who had stood at the peak of the shinobi world, a monster on the same tier as the so-called God of Shinobi…
…was being dismissed?
He froze for a heartbeat.
Then he actually laughed—because the alternative was exploding.
If this brat wanted to humiliate him, fine.
Madara would show him what a true Uchiha looked like.
"You want to talk about hierarchy?" Madara's voice sharpened with murderous pride.
"Then I'll teach you."
And with that, the ancient warlord's killing intent returned in full.