The wind howled through the trees like a starving beast.
Snow fell in thick, heavy sheets, blanketing the Forest of Death in white. From a distance, the infamous training ground looked almost pure—silent, silver, and still.
Once Sogetsu was absolutely sure no one was tailing him, he stepped past the treeline and disappeared into the forest.
He followed a now-familiar trail, winding through snow and under low branches, until the land dipped and darkened. At the deepest point of the Kurama clan's forbidden grounds, a black-and-white figure was already waiting.
"Lord Sogetsu, welcome back."
Black Zetsu peeled itself out of the shadow of a tree, twisted face stretched into a respectful smile.
"Madara-sama has been waiting for you inside."
"Mm."
Sogetsu answered with a noncommittal hum and walked straight past him.
"Then I'll stay out here on guard," Black Zetsu said, utterly unbothered by the chilly reception. "If any idiot stumbles into the area, I can warn you in time."
Its body slowly sank into the snow and earth, vanishing as if it had never been there.
It had been nearly two months since Sogetsu's last visit.
Madara had aged again in that short time.
His body was little more than skin and bone now, shriveled and skeletal. Thick tubes and cables ran from his back into the stone, feeding him just enough to keep his flickering life from going out.
"Kh… you're here."
Madara lifted his eyelids, breath shallow, voice rough and weak.
"You called me suddenly. What's the matter?" Sogetsu's brows pinched faintly; his tone carried just the right touch of impatience. "You're the one who said we should avoid meeting unless absolutely necessary. This is Konoha's territory. If the Third catches a hint of you, it'll be trouble."
"I'm aware…"
Madara leaned back in the chair, hollow eyes catching a brief spark of light.
"That's why I called you."
Each sentence cost him several labored breaths.
Watching his chest work so hard just to move air, it was easy to imagine him simply stopping in the middle of a word.
"What do you want?" Sogetsu asked.
"You did well. Kh… very well," Madara rasped. "It seems… entrusting the Eye of the Moon Plan to you was the right choice. I can rest easy."
He sucked in a long, shaky breath, gathered what little strength he had left, and continued:
"This time, I've called you here to formally hand you the three most critical jutsu of the Eye of the Moon Plan, Sogetsu."
"Hand them… to me?" Sogetsu let his eyes widen, surprise flickering across his face. Then, as if something clicked, his expression shifted. "You're already at your limit, aren't you?"
"It's not that I can't go on," Madara said, shaking his head. His tone was oddly calm. "I've just decided there's no point dragging this body any further. Your performance exceeded my expectations. White Zetsu's reports were… impressive."
A faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"What you lack now isn't talent, but time—and the right opportunity."
"And you?" Sogetsu pressed.
"I'm leaving this place."
Madara's eyes turned to the ceiling, expression almost peaceful.
"There's nothing left to teach you. Staying here, clinging to this shell… would be a waste. I'd rather use what remains of my time to prepare the ground for the future."
"I see."
Sogetsu dipped his head slightly, face cool.
"I'll stay buried and wait for the right moment."
"Black Zetsu will go with me." Madara's dry coughs shook his frame, a smear of blood appearing at the corner of his lips. His breathing grew more ragged.
"But I'll leave White Zetsu to you. After I die, Black Zetsu will seek you out, to assist you in completing the Eye of the Moon Plan."
"Fine. Anything else?"
Sogetsu's voice stayed level.
Madara was quiet for a moment.
Then the scarlet tomoe lit in his eyes, slowly turning.
He fixed Sogetsu with that blood-red gaze, his voice taking on a faint, unusual weight.
"Remember," he said. "Do not go too far. The Eye of the Moon is for the happiness of this world—not a tool to erase shinobi. Don't let our work be twisted into madness. Don't waste our lives, Sogetsu."
Sogetsu's eyes dulled slightly.
His pupils lost their focus for an instant.
"I understand," he repeated, tone slack. "Don't go too far. I'll remember."
"Good."
Relief flickered across Madara's withered features.
Secretly weaving a final suggestion into Sogetsu's mind had been his last insurance.
He feared that once he died, there would be no one capable of restraining this terrifying younger Uchiha. If Sogetsu followed his own extreme ideas, the Eye of the Moon Plan might turn into something monstrous and uncontrollable.
Now that the command was in place, Madara could finally relax.
He began to pass on the three techniques that formed the backbone of his entire plan.
The first: the summoning contract of the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path.
The second: the forbidden art known as Edo Tensei—Reanimation Jutsu.
The third: the ultimate trump card, Rinne Tensei—Samsara of Heavenly Life Technique.
With these three jutsu, even in the worst-case scenario, Sogetsu would be able to drag him back as a corpse-bound spirit.
And even as a reanimated dead man, Madara was confident: in the current age, with Hashirama gone, there wouldn't be a single soul who could defeat him.
If Hashirama did not appear, who could possibly stand against Uchiha Madara?
"Kh… kh…"
Finished with his last lesson, Madara slumped back into his chair and waved a trembling hand.
"You can go," he said. "I hope… when next we meet… I'll have returned in another form."
"Who knows," Sogetsu replied lightly, tucking the three scrolls into his cloak. "By the time you wake up again, the Eye of the Moon Plan might already be one step away from completion."
He turned and walked out without looking back.
Madara watched his departing back, an unnameable unease prickling in the hollow of his chest.
He couldn't find the reason.
He ran through everything again: the manipulation, the control, the hypnotic layer.
Someone under Kotoamatsukami's control could not betray it.
Keeping that thought clamped tight, he forced down the unease, rubbed at his brow, and closed his eyes. His voice was barely more than a rasp.
"Uchiha Sogetsu… My choice wasn't wrong… right?"
—
From the Forest of Death back to his own home, Sogetsu took his time.
Once inside, he sat down slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he reached into his cloak and pulled out a book bound in pale, worn leather.
Lemanor's Traveling Notes.
His latest prize from the system.
An Extraordinary artifact that let its owner record any supernatural ability they witnessed and fix it permanently onto a page. Once recorded, that "page" could be activated to reproduce the ability—though only once.
He flipped the book open.
On the blank parchment, ink lines slowly appeared on their own.
Recorded: Dōjutsu — Kotoamatsukami
Effect: Invades a target's mind and directly rewrites their will.
"Shame," Sogetsu mused, resting his chin in one hand as he studied the neat script. "If I weren't a Spectator, you really might've gotten me, old man."
His other hand casually turned the page.
One after another, techniques filled the notes in fine script.
Recorded: Water Release — Water Dragon Bullet
Recorded: Water Release — Explosive Water Shockwave
Recorded: Water Release — Great Waterfall Technique
Recorded: Water Release — Furious Roaring Vortex
Recorded: Water Release — Exploding Dragon Tornado
Recorded: Tailed Beast Bomb (Three-Tails)
The trip to Kirigakure had been… lucrative.
Sogetsu couldn't help feeling a tiny flicker of gratitude toward the Third Mizukage. Without him, where else would Sogetsu have gotten so many high-level water jutsu neatly packaged together?
White Zetsu slid out of the wall like a pale, grinning ghost.
"Lord Sogetsu," he said cheerfully, "I've finished everything you asked. No one spotted me. Very soon, Namikaze Minato and his team will run headfirst into the Cloud's AB Brothers—hehehe."
"Good work, White Zetsu."
Sogetsu didn't even look up, still glancing over the last page before closing the book.
After advancing to Dreamwalker, he'd taken this White Zetsu apart from the inside out—then put it back together in a shape that belonged entirely to him.
With a few more steps, and a higher Sequence, he'd even be able to build an entirely false persona and implant it into the creature's inner world.
Then the White Zetsu wouldn't just be an underling.
It would be a true avatar.
"Lord Sogetsu, there's something I don't get." White Zetsu tilted his head. "Why did you go out of your way to arrange for the Cloud's AB Brothers to end up on the same mission as Minato's team?"
"Wars always need a reason," Sogetsu said, closing the notebook with a soft thump. A small smile tugged at his lips.
"And if they can't find one, we'll provide it."
Namikaze Minato was perfectly suited to be that "spark."
A rising star of the "Hokage faction." A genius jōnin personally favored by the Third. The most promising candidate for the next Hokage—sent on a mission by name from the Fire Daimyō…
And nearly killed in an ambush set by multiple villages along the way.
That kind of incident was enough to push the already strained nerves of the shinobi world past the breaking point, triggering chains of reaction that would be very hard to stop.
Just like that day in Sarajevo—when a single gunshot toppled an empire.
"Ahhh, that's what you meant," White Zetsu said, eyes lighting up. An oily, malicious grin spread over his face.
"I understand now, Lord Sogetsu. Hehehe. I'll make sure those 'conditions' are used very well."
Sogetsu flicked his wrist.
Several pages tore free of Lemanor's notebook and drifted through the air toward White Zetsu.
He caught them carefully and glanced down.
Each recorded a water jutsu once wielded by the Mizukage.
Cloud's AB Brothers, plus the Third Mizukage's water ninjutsu in someone else's hands…
Minato's nice little mission was about to become a lot more interesting.
White Zetsu's grin sharpened.
He slowly sank into the ground and vanished.
Winter storm winds hammered the trees outside.
Deep beneath the snow, something ugly began to stir.
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