Chapter 97: Madara Uchiha's Challenge!
[New World - The Pola - Captain's Quarters]
The tension in the room did not explode immediately. Instead, it simmered, heavy and suffocating, like the air before a typhoon.
Madara stood his ground, his arms crossed over his crimson armor. He looked down at Suzaku, who had just challenged his cynical worldview.
"This world has teeth?" Madara repeated Suzaku's words, his voice dripping with a deep, ancestral weariness. "You speak of power. You speak of changing the status quo."
He turned away, walking slowly towards the steel wall of the cabin. His metal boots clanked rhythmically on the floor.
"Naive brat," Madara scoffed, his back to Suzaku. "I have already walked that path. I built a village to end war. I established an order to protect children. I tried to enforce eternal peace using absolute power and will!"
He clenched his gloved fist, the leather creaking.
"But the result... was not as beautiful as I imagined. It was a failure."
Madara turned his head slightly, his Sharingan glowing in the dim light.
"Time... is a huge, insurmountable rift. It is the ultimate enemy."
"In the long river of time," Madara continued, his voice echoing with the weight of history, "even the deepest bonds between brothers will be worn away. Even the greatest achievements of gods will be forgotten. The people you cherish... their descendants will gradually forget everything you've done. They will once again stir up conflict for fame, profit, and desire. The cycle of hatred is eternal."
He looked at Akame, who was still gripping her sword, trembling under his pressure.
"Everything we strive to do throughout our lives will ultimately be washed away by the rain and wind, disappearing into the dust of history. It is meaningless! The only true peace... is in a dream."
These words were the summation of his life's failures. The conclusion of the Ghost of the Uchiha. Reality was hell; only the Infinite Tsukuyomi offered salvation.
However, Suzaku shook his head. He didn't look discouraged. He looked amused.
"You're right," Suzaku admitted, stepping forward. "But not entirely."
He met Madara's freezing gaze with a burning one.
"You say time will erase everything. You say we will disappear into dust."
Suzaku's smile grew brighter. His eyes shimmered with a confident, golden light that seemed to push back against Madara's blue aura.
"Then the solution is simple. We just won't disappear."
"Hoh?" Madara narrowed his eyes.
"The solution," Suzaku said, pointing at his own chest, "is for us to become Immortal."
The word hung in the air, heavy and absolute.
"As long as we exist forever, we can forever protect the order we create. As long as we are eternally powerful, we can forever suppress the scoundrels who try to disrupt the peace. If the Kings never die... the Kingdom never falls. If the Watcher never blinks... the cycle of hatred breaks."
"Regarding this..." Suzaku leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know several ways to achieve it. True immortality. Not a reanimated corpse like the Edo Tensei. Not a statue. Eternal life."
At these words, Uchiha Madara's mocking expression finally froze.
Immortality.
He suddenly turned his head fully. His Three Tomoe Sharingan spun wildly, locking onto Suzaku, scanning his chakra, his heartbeat, his soul. He was looking for a lie. He found none.
He could feel that when this brat said these words, there wasn't a hint of bluster. It was a certainty born of absolute confidence.
For a man who had spent his entire life seeking solutions to conflict, who had connected himself to the Gedo Statue just to prolong his existence a little longer... these two words held a fatal, irresistible allure.
Eternal life?
If... if he could truly obtain eternal life, without the decay of age, without the need for convoluted plans spanning centuries... then all his past regrets, all his failures with Hashirama, seemed to have a chance of being rewritten.
With eternity... I could fix it all.
The oppressive feeling in the air suddenly heightened to its peak. The steel walls of the ship groaned under the pressure.
Uchiha Madara's tall figure leaned forward slightly. A powerful wave of killing intent and fighting spirit—blue, suffocating Chakra—swept towards Suzaku like a tsunami.
"Interesting brat..."
Madara's voice became hoarse and dangerous.
"Since you've said so much... then show me the strength to back up your boastful words."
His eyes glowed.
"Come. Prove it to me. Prove that you... are worthy of discussing immortality with Uchiha Madara!"
[The Pola - Dining Hall - 20 Minutes Later]
The atmosphere in the ship's dining room was a surreal contrast to the philosophical standoff that had just occurred.
It was filled with warmth, liveliness, and the overwhelming, mouth-watering aroma of food.
On one side of the long dining table, Akame was engaged in a fierce battle. Her opponent was a mountain of food.
She gripped a sizzling, roasted piece of giant Sea King meat (leftover from the banquet) with her left hand, and held a fork in her right, rapidly shoveling sausages and scrambled eggs into her mouth. Her speed was incredible; her hand was a blur of motion.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
Her small cheeks were puffed out like a hamster's, but her chewing didn't stop for a moment. Her crimson eyes, usually so cold and vigilant, were narrowed into happy, crescent slits. For the first time since arriving, she looked her age.
Beside her, Pola—or rather, her human avatar manifested from the ship—was no less enthusiastic.
The ship girl was currently hugging a roast chicken larger than her own head. Her face was smeared with grease, and she looked like a child who had found paradise.
"Delicious!" Pola mumbled, sauce dripping from her chin. "Commander really has the best food! My fuel tanks are full!"
The two girls, who had just met, had now achieved perfect harmony in the act of "eating." It was a synchronicity born of gluttony. The sound of their chewing was the only thing breaking the tension for them.
"I say..."
Suzaku sat across the table, propping his chin with one hand. He watched the two eaters with an amused, helpless smile.
"Eating such greasy things first thing in the morning... are your stomachs really okay? You'll get a stomach ache before the workout."
His response was two indistinct, simultaneous voices muffled by meat.
"So good!"
"Really good!"
After speaking, the two tacitly buried their heads back into their respective "battlefields," and the crisp clatter of cutlery became the main melody of the room.
However, the rest of the room was not so relaxed.
In another corner of the dining room, Uchiha Madara stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall.
He looked completely out of place. His crimson armor, his long spiky hair, his intense aura of a warlord—he looked like a god of war who had stumbled into a family breakfast.
He coldly observed this slightly comical scene.
He didn't touch the food on the table; for someone like him, who had lived through the Warring States Period where starvation was common, eating was merely a necessary means of survival, not enjoyment.
His attention was entirely focused on the other people present. He was analyzing threats.
His Sharingan shifted to the woman sitting beside Suzaku.
Albedo.
She sat with a saintly, gentle smile on her face, elegantly tasting a bowl of porridge with a small spoon. She wiped Suzaku's mouth with a napkin, fussing over him like a devoted wife.
That woman... Madara analyzed, his eyes narrowing. Beneath that gentle facade... lies a vast and terrifying power. Her physical defense appears absolute. A tank. And her devotion... it borders on madness. Useful, but dangerous.
He looked to the other side.
Ulquiorra.
The pale man stood quietly near the window, neither sitting nor speaking. He held a piece of bread, taking small, mechanical bites. He didn't look at the food; he looked at nothing.
And him... Madara's tomoe spun slowly. His existence exudes an extremely unsettling sense of 'nothingness.' It is a very alien kind of power. Dense. Cold. Compressed. He hides his true strength deep within.
As for the two twin maids, Ram and Rem, busily moving around the dining table refilling plates... Madara dismissed them as mid-level threats, though he noted the pink one (Ram) had a body composed of lightning elements (Logia).
A lightning spirit? Interesting.
Madara's gaze finally returned to Suzaku.
The Captain was laughing at something Nami said. He looked relaxed. Open. Vulnerable.
This brat... Madara thought, a begrudging respect forming in his mind. Since he could gather these monsters under his command... and keep them loyal... it seems he wasn't boasting earlier. He sits in the center of a den of lions and acts like he owns the zoo.
Just then, Ram walked by with a tray of desserts. She stopped in front of Madara, offering the tray without fear.
"Would you like some, Madara-sama?" Ram asked politely. "It is strawberry shortcake."
Madara paused. He looked at the tray.
In the middle sat a delicate strawberry cake. It was small, pink, and perfectly decorated with a fresh strawberry on top.
In his era, sweets were a luxury. A rarity reserved for daimyos.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Madara reached out. His gloved hand—a hand that had crushed armies—picked up the small, delicate cake.
He brought it to his mouth and swallowed it in one bite, expressionless.
The sweet, rich cream melted on his tongue. The tartness of the strawberry burst in his mouth.
For a second, the grim reality of war faded. This body—restored to its youth by the summoning—could taste the deliciousness of the real world with a clarity he hadn't felt in decades. It was the taste of life.
He didn't frown. He didn't smile. He simply swallowed.
Not bad.
The next second, the cheerful atmosphere in the dining room abruptly ceased.
THOOM.
Madara uncrossed his arms. His armor clanked loudly.
The air pressure in the room dropped. The plates rattled on the table. Nami froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Akame stopped chewing, her hand instantly going to her sword hilt under the table.
"You've eaten," Madara said.
His voice, hard as iron and cold as the grave, broke the warmth of the breakfast.
"And your stomachs should be full."
He stepped away from the wall, walking into the center of the room. His Chakra flared, visible as a faint blue aura.
Every eye in the room turned to him. Ulquiorra looked up. Albedo's smile vanished, replaced by a cold glare.
"Now," Madara said, his eyes burning with the anticipation of battle. He looked directly at Suzaku.
"Isn't it time for me to witness your strength?"
He gestured to the door leading to the deck.
"Don't disappoint me, brat. Or I will tear this ship apart just to alleviate my boredom."
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