The Land of Rain has rain every day, but today the downpour was unusually fierce. Raindrops slammed into the ground with a constant splattering roar.
Tap tap tap…
Six figures in high-collared cloaks sped across the muddy terrain.
Konan stared ahead, where even her vision was blurred by the curtain of rain, unease rising in her chest.
"Nagato… I have a really bad feeling."
The red-haired boy, his bangs shadowing his eyes, glanced at her and nodded.
"Be careful. I've got the same feeling."
"I think something's going to happen on Yahiko's side…"
Snap!
Nagato suddenly stopped.
The other five companions rushed a few steps forward before skidding to a halt.
"What is it?"
Faced with their questions, Nagato lowered his head in silence. Beneath his fringe, those strange eyes were filled with anxiety.
"Nagato?"
Konan's voice carried confusion.
Nagato snapped back to himself, lifting his head sharply. When he saw their familiar faces, he gasped like a drowning survivor dragged back to shore.
"What's wrong, Nagato?"
Konan hurried over, wanting to check on him.
Nagato raised a hand to stop her.
"I'm fine," He said between heavy breaths. "It's just… when you mentioned Yahiko, I thought of something terrifying too. Maybe this abnormal rain is making people who are already unsettled even more anxious…"
"…Should we go to Yahiko's side?" Another companion asked hesitantly.
"No. We just need to trust Yahiko."
Nagato looked at the four companions besides Konan. They were all veterans who had joined from the very beginning of the Akatsuki… each one someone he could entrust his life to.
"The situation at the southern outpost also concerns everyone's survival. Since Yahiko entrusted us with investigating it, we absolutely cannot let him down."
Seeing Nagato regain his resolve, Konan's heart steadied, a smile appearing.
"In that case… let's keep moving."
"That's right. Let's speed up. The sooner we figure things out, the sooner we can return."
"Yeah!"
…
"No, no, no… this is bad, this is bad, this is bad…"
Deep inside a sealed underground cavern…
A pale, humanoid creature ran around in panicked circles.
Beneath the enormous Outer Path Statue, an emaciated old man with withered white hair, Uchiha Madara, cast him a weak glance before closing his eyes again.
Seeing this, the pale creature grew even more frantic. He rushed up to the old man, shouting:
"Madara-sama! How can you still be this calm?! Nagato's going to look for that killing god from Sunagakure! He's going to get wiped out!"
Madara didn't respond. He only opened his eyes and stared straight at him.
The pale humanoid shut his mouth instinctively, taking several steps back.
Then he felt strange.
Why had he stepped back?
White Zetsu, lacking human instincts and physiology, didn't understand what fear was. He only found the action puzzling.
"White Zetsu…"
Madara spoke his name, voice frail as if he could die at any moment.
White Zetsu didn't care about that. To him, sadness didn't exist… only curiosity about what Madara wanted to say.
"What?"
"This is probably the last day of my life."
"Huh?!"
White Zetsu stared at the old man in shock.
"With the Outer Path Statue's Chakra sustaining you, shouldn't you be able to cling on for decades?"
"That's true. But if I keep living… Nagato will die."
Madara's cloudy left eye turned crimson, becoming a Sharingan.
"If Nagato is to truly awaken the Rinnegan, he must understand the cruelty of this world and abandon naive ideals… This may be an opportunity, but also his crisis. If I don't help him, he won't overcome this trial."
"Then how are you going to help him?" White Zetsu asked like an innocent child. "If you pull out the statue's tubes, you'll drop dead, right? Or are you going to ride the Outer Path Statue to rescue him?"
Madara couldn't help laughing.
"If I still had the Chakra to control the statue, I wouldn't need all these roundabout schemes."
"Then what are you going to do?"
Madara didn't answer. Instead, he looked toward another White Zetsu hanging upside down among the roots.
This one was smaller, its face twisted into a spiral like interlocking fangs.
"Guruguru… That will be your name." (T/N: The RAW is Swirl Zetsu, but I change it to his original name, Guruguru.)
As his words fell, Guruguru dropped naturally like an overripe fruit.
Smack!
He landed face-first, sprawled out like a pile of mud, body twisted unnaturally.
Madara hesitated.
He began to wonder if this decision was far too reckless.
But given the situation, he forced himself onward.
"Guruguru … you will wrap around me and move my body."
Madara took a deep breath, staring hard at him.
"If it's you, even if the Outer Path Statue is severed, you can maintain my life for a short while."
"Ah, sorry, I think I pulled something down there…"
"Down there? Do you even have that?"
"I don't!"
"Wow, you don't! That's amazing!"
"Do you have one?"
"I don't think I do either…"
Madara fell silent, watching the two Zetsu ignore him completely as they calmly chatted about nonsense.
He doubted himself again.
'Handing my body over to this idiot… was it really fine?'
Especially seeing Guruguru, still face-planted in the mud while chatting so casually, made Madara's confidence crumble.
He didn't doubt Guruguru would obey.
He only feared what bizarre things this creature might do with his body.
Like striking an unbearably humiliating pose.
If that happened, his lifelong reputation would be ruined.
'No… I need insurance.'
Madara's expression hardened. From his body, a pitch-black figure split off.
"Huh? What's that?"
The two White Zetsu stared at the dark silhouette in shock.
"This is the manifestation of my will."
Madara glanced at White Zetsu, then fixed his gaze on the black figure.
"Black Zetsu. From this day onward, you will carry out my plan in my place."
"I am you. Your pursuit is my pursuit."
"Then… it's settled."
…
Southern Outpost.
Ryuji looked at the troops fully prepared to depart and asked:
"The equipment I gave you… have you all mastered it?"
"We have."
"Then move out. Reach the enemy camp within three hours, and use my weapons to kill them all. We will reverse the village's current decline with absolute victory."
"Yes!"
"Depart!"
Ryuji led the charge, sprinting ahead.
Aka followed half a step behind.
The rest of the Shinobi formed a wedge formation behind them.
After a full day and night of rest, everyone was in high spirits. Their steps were swift, more than a hundred pairs of sandals pounding through the mud, splashing water everywhere.
Tap tap tap…
After about half an hour, several figures appeared ahead.
The heavy rain made it impossible to see clearly who they were.
But on the battlefield, anyone who wasn't an ally was an enemy.
Before Ryuji even gave an order, three teams accelerated forward.
"Nagato… it's the enemy!"
The newcomers halted immediately, looking toward the red-haired boy in the center.
"What do we do?" One companion asked anxiously. "If this is happening… the southern outpost is probably already doomed."
"Retreat!"
Nagato gritted his teeth and gave the command.
He desperately wanted to know what had happened, but the enemy outnumbered them. This was no time to hesitate.
Hearing the order, everyone breathed in relief and turned to flee.
Three puppeteer teams chased relentlessly.
Two of them pulled out scrolls while running. With a puff of white smoke, a strange device appeared in their hands.
A six-in-one bamboo dragonfly launcher.
Shuriken were fitted onto steel spiral rods, six of them mounted together inside an abacus-like frame. Gears meshed horizontally and vertically, locked onto a steel shaft, connected below to another spiral rod wrapped tightly with string.
Running at full speed, they gripped the handle with their left hand and yanked the cord with their right.
Bzzz!
The string snapped taut, and all six 'dragonflies' spun at once.
Six shuriken shot out at speeds no human could ever throw.
Hundreds of meters vanished in an instant.
The fleeing Shinobi didn't even have time to react before being pierced through the chest.
The weapon was powerful, but its accuracy was awful… from twelve shuriken, only two hits.
One of those barely grazed a leg.
But the rotation speed was so insane it sliced away half the limb.
The Shinobi, still sprinting, instantly collapsed, leg snapping. He rolled several times before finally stopping.
The sudden disaster made the remaining four freeze.
"Don't worry about me… run!" The fallen man roared at Nagato.
But that only made it harder for Nagato to abandon him.
If he were already dead, it would be one thing.
But he was still alive.
How could people devoted to peace ever discard a comrade?
"We're leaving together."
Two companions lifted the injured man between them and continued running.
But carrying his weight slowed them drastically.
And dodging attacks cost precious time.
With every second, the pursuers drew closer.
"You go first."
Nagato stopped, turning to face the enemy.
The others jolted.
"If we go, we go together!"
"If we stay together, none of us will escape."
"I'll stay and cover you," Konan insisted.
Nagato stared at her face, momentarily dazed… until the enemy footsteps snapped him back.
"You need to go," He said firmly. "If I'm alone, I can escape anytime. You'll only drag me down."
No one was angry at his harsh words.
Instead, they looked moved.
Konan gazed deeply at him, about to speak…
But Nagato cut her off first.
"Yahiko is still waiting for us to report back."
Konan hesitated, conflicted.
"Go!" Nagato urged as the enemy closed in.
Konan stared at him one last time.
"Nagato… don't die."
"I won't," Nagato smiled softly. "I haven't seen the peace Yahiko talks about yet. How could I die?"
"You have to live!"
With one last warning, Konan left with the other two.
As their footsteps faded, Nagato exhaled, then lifted his head toward the pursuers.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh…
Four landed in front of him.
The other eight rushed past, chasing the remaining escapees from both sides.
"Come back!"
Nagato's face tightened. He turned, reaching out through the air.
An overwhelming pulling force erupted from his palm.
The puppeteers, already seven or eight meters away, were dragged off the ground, flying backward.
"Ah!"
The four in front panicked, instantly drawing kunai and hurling them.
Nagato clenched his right hand and slammed it downward.
He didn't even glance at the eight puppeteers smashed into the earth.
Instead, he raised his free left hand.
An invisible repulsive force exploded outward.
All the incoming kunai were blasted away—
Along with the four puppeteers themselves, sent flying back.