Deep underground in the Land of Grass, the aged Uchiha Madara sat upon a stone throne.
The chamber was steeped in darkness, so dim that not a single ray of sunlight could penetrate it. It looked more like a tomb than a room.
But to Madara, it was just right.
He needed silence—and now, he himself existed in a state between life and death.
"So… I've finally gained something?"
Madara murmured softly as he lifted his head, his gaze turning toward the cavern's ceiling.
His scarlet Sharingan slowly rotated, as though it could peer through the earth itself and observe the outside world.
Behind his head, pale, grotesque tubes extended outward, connecting into his body.
These were the life-support conduits sustaining him—proof that he had truly reached the limits of his lifespan.
Moments later, a white figure slowly descended from the ceiling.
Its bizarre appearance was unsettling to behold.
Then, as it landed before Madara, its body split open—revealing Uchiha Obito inside.
"Ah~ la la~ Madara-sama, I brought him back. Hopefully he didn't poop inside my belly."
The moment it spoke, all of that eerie, horrifying atmosphere vanished completely.
This thing looked—like an idiot.
"He won't," Madara replied calmly.
Already accustomed to White Zetsu's nonsense, Madara ignored the remark and instead carefully examined Obito within Zetsu's body.
From the moment Obito entered the battlefield, Madara had been watching him closely.
Or rather—
He had been watching every Uchiha fighting in the Land of Grass.
Although he had already entrusted the Rinnegan to Nagato, he still needed someone to keep an eye on him.
Naturally, Madara preferred someone he understood deeply—
someone emotional, impulsive—
An Uchiha.
Madara's understanding of the Uchiha clan ran bone-deep. Even Senju Tobirama, standing before him, would be laughably insignificant in comparison.
"Madara-sama, this kid's kind of dumb, and he's basically dying. Is saving him really meaningful?"
White Zetsu tilted its head, curiosity written all over its face as it stared at Obito inside its body.
"The power of the Uchiha requires talent," Madara said calmly.
"But sometimes, something is even more important than talent."
He knew White Zetsu was an idiot—but also absolutely loyal—so there was no harm in explaining.
"What's talent? And what's more important than talent?" White Zetsu asked innocently, blinking.
"The heart," Madara replied quietly.
"The purer an Uchiha's heart, the greater their potential to awaken their eyes—especially those who are purely kind.
The kinder a person is, the more utterly pure their evil becomes when their beliefs finally collapse.
Such people may act on impulse and become difficult to control, but—"
As long as one understands their deepest desire, and prepares in advance,
they will never escape one's control.
"Madara-sama… I don't really get it."
"It doesn't matter. Stop asking."
Madara waved the questions away.
"Treat him. Then go to Konoha and investigate his background.
This brat… may be a good choice."
As he said, Obito was only one candidate. Madara still had others to observe.
But based on Obito's performance so far—especially on the battlefield—Madara was quite satisfied.
Breaking rules.
Refusing to abandon teammates.
Willing to sacrifice his own life to save a comrade.
Even gifting his eye to another at death's door.
All of this was born from Obito's pure kindness.
And within that kindness, Madara saw something else—
Selfishness.
That selfishness was hidden beneath Obito's sunny, optimistic exterior, but Madara—who had been watching closely—had noticed something interesting.
The night before, during Obito's conversation with Nohara Rin, one name had come up.
And that name had stirred Obito's emotions violently.
Madara had no interest in romance or love—
But that subtle, buried possessiveness was crystal clear to him.
"As long as I seize this key… he'll be the perfect tool."
With that thought, Madara grew increasingly satisfied with Obito.
He closed his eyes again, turning his attention to other Uchiha—but his mind was already working on how to make Obito awaken his eyes.
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, Madara noticed something unexpected.
At the place where Obito had been buried—
The battle was still ongoing.
More importantly—
Another Uchiha he had been watching had arrived.
"Uchiha Haori… the one who made Obito feel resentment?"
Madara was surprised.
He hadn't expected to focus on this brat so soon.
As for Haori, Madara's feelings were… complicated.
This kid could get along with anyone.
He was intelligent.
And he had already awakened the Sharingan back in the Land of Whirlpools.
By all accounts—
He looked like the perfect candidate.
Good relationships meant a wide range of emotional triggers—more chances for loss, and thus awakening.
High intelligence meant smoother execution of plans, fewer accidents, fewer mistakes.
Awakening the Sharingan so early meant extraordinary talent.
And yet—
Because he was too perfect, Madara hesitated.
Getting along with everyone might also mean being close to no one at all—perhaps just the hidden arrogance of an Uchiha, treating everyone equally because none truly mattered.
Being too smart meant he might see through the flaws in Madara's plan.
And once Madara died, such a person would be impossible to control.
Awakening early meant talent, yes—but also mental resilience.
A firm will.
Personal convictions.
Sometimes Madara wondered if he was overthinking it.
But he couldn't help himself.
"Let's observe him first… and have Zetsu investigate this brat's background."
Madara steadied his emotions—then smiled faintly.
To him, in truth, any Uchiha would do.
As long as their heart was pure, he was confident he could mold them into a qualified pawn.
It was merely a question of how useful they would be.
"They're only at two tomoe for now. Their paths are still long ahead… though Obito's eyes are a bit special."
Madara recalled how stones had passed straight through Obito's body without killing him.
Otherwise, he would never have had the chance to retrieve him.
But before his thoughts could continue—
He froze.
Through White Zetsu's vision, he clearly saw Haori's eyes—
They had already transformed into three tomoe.
Madara distinctly remembered that when this kid attacked the Iwa camp last night, he'd only had two tomoe.
How had he advanced to three in the blink of an eye?
"And he's faster now… his methods sharper… and especially—"
Especially when Madara saw Haori suddenly change tactics while under encirclement.
Weaving through the Iwa-nin's attacks like a butterfly through flowers, he slipped past them all—
And appeared directly in front of the Iwa squad leader.
In the next instant, Haori used his newly evolved Sharingan to force eye contact.
The Iwa captain froze on the spot—
And Haori killed him outright.
"He just evolved… and he's already this proficient?"
There was no need to watch what followed.
The brat who had inherited Senju Tobirama's most insidious technique—
the Flying Thunder God—
had already arrived.
The battle was decided.
Madara fell silent, deep in thought.
After a long while, his gaze drifted back to Obito, now lying on the bed.
For the first time—
A thought surfaced in his mind.
Did I… choose the wrong person?
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