The Fourth Great Ninja War raged on.
Freed from Edo Tensei's shackles, Gengetsu Hozuki sidestepped a whirling Fūma Shuriken and barked at the Allied Shinobi Forces, "Hold it!"
"You think we'll stop just because you say so, little mustache?!" came the rowdy reply from the ranks.
Instantly, Gengetsu's veinless brow twitched, his eyes narrowing to slits.
"Killing intent!"
The warning shot sent the crowd recoiling in perfect unison.
Seeing them shrink back, Gengetsu's anger faded. Sure, he hated being called "little mustache," but picking fights with kids was beneath a Kage's dignity. He sighed, letting it go.
"Look, a long time ago, someone summoned me with Edo Tensei. I learned the hand seals to break the jutsu. Now I'm free—no one's pulling my strings."
Some shinobi cheered, relieved they wouldn't have to go toe-to-toe with the infamous Second Mizukage. Others eyed him warily.
"So what are you planning to do now?" someone called out.
Gengetsu snorted, "None of your damn business! Go find your commander—I've got things to handle!"
He turned and strode away, determined to uncover the mastermind behind Edo Tensei. If he could, he'd even help the Allied Forces take the bastard down.
...
On the main battlefield, Gaara led the ninja alliance against the Third Kazekage and his father, the Fourth Kazekage.
Iron sand, gold sand, and ordinary sand collided head-on.
For a moment, the sky itself split into three:
Iron sand billowed like storm clouds, blotting out the sun.
Gold sand surged like a tsunami, mountains crumbling in its wake.
Gaara's ordinary sand, everywhere and endless, formed a desperate barrier for the alliance.
One-on-one, Gaara might have stood a chance. One-on-two? Not likely—especially with the legendary Third Kazekage, the strongest in Sand history, in the mix.
But in this era, ordinary sand was king. Gold and iron sand struggled against Gaara's infinite supply—he could churn out sand by the ton, while his opponents had to work for every grain of gold or iron. Gaara exploited this, constantly mixing his sand into their attacks, blunting their force.
If Rasa didn't purify his gold sand, it was weak and hard to control. If he did, it drained his chakra. Meanwhile, Gaara's sand was everywhere—he could burn through it without a second thought.
Still, even with this edge, Gaara was pushed to his limits.
As the fight stalemated, Mu—Kabuto's puppet—struck from the shadows.
"Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!"
A blinding, cylindrical beam of white-hot energy shot for Gaara.
Onoki, arriving just in time, didn't hesitate.
"Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!"
His own cone-shaped beam tore through the battlefield.
Cylinder met cone—needle against wheat—the collision detonated in a flash of light and a thunderous boom that shook the earth.
...
Elsewhere, Obito led a squad of jinchūriki, each sporting Rinnegan, against Naruto and Killer B.
The Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails were still free, but the Two-Tails was missing—no matter. Obito had a backup: the Wind-Thunder Chains that once trapped Matatabi were packed with Two-Tails chakra.
Not as good as the real thing, but it would do. Obito planned to personally stall the alliance's top fighters, leaving Madara to hunt down the Two-Tails.
...
At the Hidden Rain Village gate—
Rinjin, off duty, lingered at the guard post. With war raging everywhere, there was no safer place than the front gate.
Rain fell in endless curtains, the village a rare pocket of peace.
Rinjin and Kagami were chatting idly when, on the Wakkanai Bridge to the Land of Fire, two figures—one tall, one short—emerged from the mist.
"Rinjin, someone's coming," Kagami murmured.
"I see them," Rinjin replied, sighing as a stiff smile crept onto his face.
Madara and Nagato. They really did think highly of him.
The figures came closer, faces becoming clear through the drizzle.
"Yo~
Madara old man, long time no see!" Rinjin waved, cheerful as ever.
Edo Tensei Madara's lips curled in a cold smile, his eyes scanning Rinjin up and down. He was sizing him up—measuring power, intent, and history.
Anyone else, Madara wouldn't give a second thought. But this guy? He'd tangled with Rinjin for years, eaten more than his share of losses. Mist Village plans ruined, his lair exposed, the Gedo Statue fondled by this damned rogue, even a Rinnegan snatched away...
Anyone else would've been dead a hundred times.
"Sakuho Rinjin, you've gotten old, kid."
"Look who's talking—who was it, back in the day, clutching the big comforter I gave him for dear life?"
"Heh. Sharp-tongued brat."
"Heh. Grumpy old fossil who's been gambling with fate his whole life."
As the two traded barbs, Kagami's face drained of color. From the moment Rinjin called him "Madara old man," Kagami had started to suspect.
Red armor, long hair over one eye, that arrogant gaze—he'd seen this face in the clan's portraits.
After a moment of frantic memory, Kagami blurted, "Ancestor Uchiha Madara!"
Shisui, beside him, looked at his grandfather like he'd seen a ghost, his gaze darting between Kagami and the legendary figure.
Madara's eyes flicked to Kagami, noting the Uchiha crest on his arm and the Rain symbol on the other.
"So the Uchiha clan has fallen so far they're guarding gates in a tiny village like Hidden Rain?"
Kagami bristled, lips pressed tight.
Rinjin, ever the instigator, leaned in, "Brother, you sure you've got the right guy? Pretty sure this is Senju Madara—since when was he your ancestor?"
Kagami caught Rinjin's wink, immediately playing along.
"Ah, right, right~
Guess I'm getting old—eyes aren't what they used to be. Sorry, sorry~"
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