The instant Madara finished speaking—
He vanished.
The air detonated where he had stood, the ground collapsing inward as his body crossed the battlefield at terrifying speed—straight toward Akira.
No.
Toward the Heavenly Titan Ant.
Around Madara, space rippled.
Four shadows emerged.
His Limbo clones—once shattered, once dispersed—now fully restored, manifesting in perfect synchronization. They moved without sound, without hesitation, each one mirroring Madara's killing intent.
Five Madaras surged forward as one.
Akira did not speak.
He simply nodded his head.
A silent command.
The Heavenly Titan Ant responded.
Its massive body vibrated, and a thunderous screech echoed across the battlefield—deep, primal, ancient.
Then—
One of its legs rose.
The movement alone crushed the air.
That leg hardened, elongated, sharpened—condensing Six Paths Yin-Yang chakra until it resembled a colossal spear forged from absolute authority.
And it thrust forward.
The world screamed.
Madara heard it.
Not with his ears—but with instinct.
This was no ordinary attack.
Without hesitation, the four Limbo clones intercepted.
They struck the spear-leg simultaneously, each unleashing Six Paths–level force meant to shatter gods.
It was useless.
The spear did not slow.
Did not deflect.
Did not acknowledge them.
One by one, the Limbo clones were erased—crushed into nothingness as if they had never existed.
Madara roared and surged forward himself.
Sword of Nunoboko : Truth-Seeking Spear
All remaining chakra.
All remaining will.
He met the Titan's leg head-on.
The collision stopped the world.
For a fraction of a second—
A stalemate.
Madara's spear pressed forward.
The Titan's leg pushed back.
The air between them collapsed into pure distortion.
Then—
The Heavenly Titan Ant moved again.
Its second leg rose.
And came down.
Not as a thrust—
But as a sweep.
Like a mountain-sized blade cutting across existence itself.
Madara was completely focused on the stalemate.
There was no time.
No warning.
No escape.
The sweeping leg struck.
BOOM.
Madara was sent flying like a broken comet, crashing across the battlefield and smashing into a distant mountain. The impact obliterated the terrain, carving a massive scar across the land.
When the dust settled—
Madara lay still.
His body was nearly split in two.
Blood poured freely, staining the scorched ground beneath him.
From outside the battlefield, a voice rang out—
"MADARA!"
Hashirama.
His shout cracked.
Of everyone watching, Hashirama suffered the most.
He had watched Madara fight—not as a conqueror, not as a tyrant—but as someone trying to protect the world in his own way.
For a moment… Hashirama had believed it.
He had believed Madara might once again become the protagonist of the world.
But now—
One arm was already gone.
His body was charred.
And now, his torso was nearly cleaved apart.
Hashirama clenched his fists.
His eyes trembled as he realized something horrifying.
The Heavenly Titan Ant had used only two of its six legs.
It hadn't opened its massive jaws.
It hadn't bitten.
Hashirama knew ants.
He had seen them.
An ant's bite might seem small—but relative to its size, its force was monstrous.
Scaled to this size—
That bite alone could surpass the destructive power of a tailed beast.
And ants didn't just bite.
They injected.
Acid.
Venom.
Hashirama's heart sank.
He wanted to move.
He wanted to interfere.
But he couldn't.
If he broke the rules—
Everyone would.
And the battlefield would descend into total war.
So Hashirama stood still.
And watched.
Around him, the alliance was silent.
Not just afraid of the lost Ten-Tails.
Not just afraid of Madara's defeat.
But afraid of Akira.
A power that had appeared from nowhere.
A force that could dominate the world.
A ruler they did not understand.
A ruler who could be merciful—
Or a tyrant.
And no one knew which he would be.
---
A few seconds passed.
Then a few more.
The battlefield—once screaming with destruction—fell into absolute silence.
No wind. No shockwaves. No chakra clashes.
Everyone watched the broken figure lying in the distance.
Waiting.
Waiting for Madara Uchiha to rise again.
Because that was what Madara always did.
But this time—
Akira looked at him.
And sighed.
"…It's over."
Madara was dying.
There was no dramatic flare of chakra. No surge of regeneration. No defiance rising from the brink.
His Six Paths healing faltered. His Senjutsu wavered. The flow of life within him was visibly unraveling.
The wounds were too deep. The damage too absolute.
The Heavenly Titan Ant stood motionless, towering above the battlefield like a silent executioner that no longer needed to move.
Akira slowly lowered his hand.
The Titan responded, its violent aura receding, its massive form stabilizing as the forbidden technique reached its end and finally it once again became a truth seeking orb.
Far away, Hashirama felt it.
That unmistakable sensation.
The moment when a shinobi—no, a legend—reaches the end.
"Madara…" he whispered.
Madara's fingers twitched.
Barely.
His breath came shallow, uneven.
Yet his eyes—
Still burned.
Not with rage.
But with clarity.
The kind that only comes when everything else has already been decided.
---
Akira looked at Madara for a few long seconds.
Then—
His Mangekyō spun.
Ashihara no Michi — Path of a Thousand Steps
Reality folded.
Eight more Akiras stepped out of overlapping layers of time, each one solid, complete, and carrying the same overwhelming presence as the original.
Nine Akiras now stood on the battlefield.
A ripple of confusion spread through everyone watching.
The match was already decided. Madara was dying. Akira had already won.
So why… another technique?
Whispers rose among the alliance. Fear crept in.
Even Madara looked up, his eyes settling on Akira.
And then—
He smiled.
A faint, satisfied curve of the lips.
"So you're not finished," Madara murmured hoarsely.
He could feel it.
If Akira was attacking again, then this would surpass everything before it.
And strangely—
That thought comforted him.
If he was going to die, then dying to an even greater power…
Dying as an Uchiha, facing the absolute peak—
That wouldn't be so bad.
Still—
Frustration burned in his chest.
He didn't want to fade away helplessly. He wanted to fight. To struggle. To fall mid-battle.
But his body refused him.
He could only watch.
---
The eight future Akiras separated, moving toward the four cardinal directions of the battlefield—north, south, east, west—until Madara lay perfectly at the center.
Then—
All eight Akiras raised their hands toward the sky.
The atmosphere changed.
The air grew dense. Chakra pressure crushed downward like an invisible ocean.
And then—
In perfect unison, the four Akiras spoke.
"Six Paths—Forbidden Technique."
The sky darkened.
Clouds spiraled inward, forming a vast vortex that swallowed the heavens.
"Second Heaven."
The chakra surged.
Reality trembled.
"IMMORTAL TIDE LEVIATHAN."
As soon as Akira's voice rang out a huge shadow appeared in the sky.
The Immortal Tide Leviathan emerged as a colossal, divine sea-beast—nearly two kilometers in length, its presence alone bending the battlefield under overwhelming pressure.
Its form resembled that of a dolphin, but magnified to a godlike scale. The body was long and streamlined, built for absolute dominance of water and chakra alike.
Its skin glowed a deep oceanic blue, smooth and radiant like living water. The head bore refined dolphin-like features, calm and ancient rather than violent.
Etched across its forehead were two bold black lines, perfectly symmetrical—markings that declared its status as Second Heaven.
---
As soon as the Immortal Tide Leviathan descended into full existence, the four future Akiras wavered.
Their forms blurred.
Then—collapsed.
As if their purpose had been fulfilled, all the chakra sustaining them drained away, and the eight future selves vanished without resistance.
Only one remained.
Akira.
The present Akira stood alone beneath the vast sky, looking up at his Second Heaven beast.
For a moment, he simply watched it.
Then he smiled.
"Let's do this."
The Immortal Tide Leviathan understood.
Its massive head lowered slightly.
A nod.
Then—
It began to whistle. ( Sound of Dolphin )
Not loudly. Not forcefully.
Soft. Rhythmic. Almost gentle.
Like a song carried across an endless ocean.
The sound spread over the battlefield.
And the change was immediate.
Anxiety faded.
Fear loosened its grip.
Hearts that had been clenched in terror slowly relaxed.
Shinobi felt their breathing steady. Their thoughts quiet.
It was as if every unspoken worry—every regret, every burden—had been heard and accepted by something far greater than themselves.
And then released.
Some suspected a genjutsu.
They tried to break it.
They disrupted their chakra flow. Bit their tongues. Dug their nails into their skin.
Nothing worked.
Because there was nothing to break.
What they felt was not illusion—
It was peace.
Warm. Enveloping.
Like floating in still water. Like being held.
Many felt it instinctively.
As if they had returned to their mother's womb.
Safe. Sheltered. Free from the weight of the world.
---
Minutes passed. The dolphin's song faded, leaving the battlefield in a serene, almost divine silence.
Then, the Immortal Tide Leviathan began swimming through the clouds, as if the sky itself had become its ocean.
Every human watching felt a wave of peace and tranquility, as though witnessing a god perform a sacred dance.
But something unusual was happening. As the Leviathan rotated, droplets of water began forming around it. At first, just a few. Then, they grew into a pond. Then, a river—an unstoppable current flowing after the dolphin.
Most of the observers remained entranced, caught in the Leviathan's calm. Only the Six Paths-level and super-Kage figures retained awareness, their minds free from the song's serenity.
They watched with anxiety. The river swelled into an ocean, surrounding the Leviathan, and the colossal creature moved within it.
Then, suddenly—the ocean fell. The water poured over the battlefield, consuming everything, even Madara, who was engulfed in the water.
But the onslaught did not stop. The space barrier that contained the flood began to crack, splitting within seconds. The ocean erupted like a tsunami, surging outward, threatening to pull every ninja into its grasp.
"Akira, what are you doing?" Hashirama shouted, but he did not wait for a reply.
Senjutsu Wood Release : Giant Wooden Wall
A giant wooden wall rose ahead him, blocking one side of the tsunami.
Combined Susanoo Style : The Aegis
Both Sasuke formed Susanoo, adding a massive barrier.
Combined Susanoo Style: Yata Mirror (Yata no Kagami)
From the opposite side, Itachi and Shisui combined their Susanoo with devine weapon to form a wall.
The Sage of Six paths and Nagato held the final side, forming a last line of defense.
And yet, it was futile. The tsunami passed through their defenses as though they were mere illusions, deflecting nothing.
The Shinobi, unaffected by panic, watched calmly, their faces serene, as if ready to surrender to death itself.
---