Chapter Twenty Two
"Are you going to let them go like that?" Konan asked Nagato, her voice low in the damp quiet of the chamber.
"Do you think stopping them is the right answer?"
"No."
"But, letting someone who infiltrated Ame with obvious manipulative goals, and someone who has been deceiving us these last few years, is definitely not right."
"The plan before knowing that Madara is a fake is still the same—it's peace. A world which has not known pain cannot know peace. As long as they do not act against the plan, it is still the same as it was. I have always suspected Madara of having other plans—now the other is here to keep him in check."
"Gather the group. They will need to know that a new member is joining the organization."
"I'm worried, Nagato."
"I understand. But I'll do anything to bring peace to the world… It's what Yahiko would have wanted."
---
"Wow, this is even less atmospheric than Nagato's chamber. Very villain-coded."
Kenshin jumped around the moment he reached Obito's base, a windowless stone room lit only by flickering chakra-lamps that cast long, wavering shadows. He moved to place his hands on Obito's shoulders, but Obito Kamuied, and Kenshin phased through him, leaving him in an awkward, stumbling position.
"Ahh, the Kamui."
"What do you want?" Obito's voice was flat, echoing slightly in the hollow space.
"I told you, I want to join your little circus."
"Why?"
"Nothing."
"Hm."
Obito flared his Sharingan, the red light cutting through the dimness as his three tomoe spun into his Mangekyō.
"Since you won't speak, I'll have to keep you somewhere else. I will not allow disruptions."
He dashed towards Kenshin, a blur of black and orange in the gloom.
"Relax, it's just the Eye of the Moon. Why do you want to fight me too? I also want to make this world a better place."
Obito stopped in his tracks.
"You also know of the Eye of the Moon."
"Of course. I just didn't say anything to Nagato. Because he's a naive pawn—if he knew, God knows how much chaos would ensue. I love chaos, but I love things following my plan better."
"You're not going to trust me until I tell you my end goal." Kenshin sighed dramatically, the sound swallowed by the stone.
"I wish to resurrect Madara Uchiha. I wish to dance with him. I wish to walk with him. He's my idol."
"A teenage fantasy."
"There is no need to resurrect Madara. The plan is going as planned—Nagato is strong enough to gather the tailed beasts. Once it's done, I start the Eye of the Moon plan. I resurrect Madara."
"You see, that's not going to work. I don't care for your trauma, your need to be the one who casts the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Madara Uchiha will be resurrected before the three-year plan kicks off. Do you have any objections?"
"It is useless talking to you. The moment you appeared, I already planned to remove you."
Obito's form began to warp, space distorting around him as Kamui activated fully. The air itself seemed to twist, reality bending at unnatural angles, the temperature dropping as if the room were being pulled into a vacuum.
Kenshin's grin widened, his Rokugan and Mangekyō Sharingan flaring to life simultaneously—dual dōjutsu casting an eerie, overlapping glow across his face, painting the walls in shifting shades of violet and crimson.
"Finally. I was wondering when you'd stop talking and start moving."
---
Obito didn't waste words. He blurred forward, his hand reaching for Kenshin—aiming to send him to the Kamui dimension by touch.
Kenshin's Observation Haki screamed the intent before Obito moved. His body shifted with Soru, vanishing from Obito's path in a burst of displaced air and scattered dust.
Obito's hand closed on empty space.
"Too slow," Kenshin called from twenty meters away, standing casually with hands in his pockets, the shadows clinging to him like a second cloak.
Obito's visible Sharingan narrowed. Precognition? Or did he track my movements with those eyes?
He tested it.
Obito launched a barrage of kunai from his sleeves—standard projectiles, each one angled to cut off escape routes, glinting coldly in the low light.
Kenshin's Protection From Arrows activated instinctively. His body moved in minute, almost imperceptible adjustments—a slight tilt of the head, a rotation of the shoulder, a half-step left. Every kunai missed by centimeters, embedding into the stone walls behind him with sharp, echoing thunks.
He didn't even look at them.
"Projectiles? Really? I thought you'd be more creative, Madara." The mocking emphasis on the false name was deliberate, a needle of provocation.
Obito's chakra spiked, a hot, dense pressure filling the room. He's baiting me. Trying to make me angry, sloppy.
But the anger was already there, simmering beneath the surface.
--
Obito vanished—with Kamui, his body slipping into the dimensional void with a faint, sucking sound. He reappeared behind Kenshin, hand reaching out to grab his head and warp it into the Kamui dimension.
Kenshin's Rokugan saw the spatial distortion forming before Obito fully materialized—chakra folding in on itself, creating a pocket of compressed, hungry space.
He clapped once.
Boogie Woogie.
In an instant, Kenshin swapped places with a loose chunk of rubble on the far side of the chamber. Obito's hand closed around cold, rough stone instead of flesh.
The rock warped, disappearing into the Kamui dimension with a faint, hollow pop.
Kenshin stood where the rubble had been, grinning through the settling dust.
"Kamui's broken, I'll give you that. But it has a tell. Your Sharingan focuses on the target for a split second before the warp activates. And that eye..."
He pointed at Obito's visible Mangekyō, his own glowing ominously in the half-light.
"...can't attack while you're intangible. You have to solidify to touch me. Which means there's always a window."
Obito's eye widened fractionally. He analyzed Kamui in seconds. Just from watching.
"Impressive observation," Obito admitted, his voice cold as buried steel. "But it won't save you."
He activated Kamui again, but this time differently—warping himself partially, keeping his upper body intangible while his legs remained solid. He dashed forward at full speed, phasing through Kenshin's defensive strikes while his solid leg swept low, aiming to trip him.
Kenshin's Light Steps activated—he stepped upward, treating air as solid ground, vaulting gracefully over the sweep.
But Obito had predicted that.
His intangible hand shot upward mid-sweep, solidifying at the last instant to grab Kenshin's ankle.
Got him.
Obito activated Kamui, intending to warp Kenshin's leg into the dimensional void—
—but Kenshin's free leg lashed out, a Chakra-Enhanced Kick slamming into Obito's wrist with bone-cracking force.
The grip broke. Obito staggered back, his wrist fracturing audibly from the impact—white Zetsu cells immediately flooding the injury, knitting bone and flesh back together in wet, squelching seconds.
Kenshin landed lightly, shaking out his ankle.
"Close. But not quite."
Obito's remaining hand wove seals—fast, practiced, fingers blurring.
Wood Release: Cutting Sprigs Technique.
Dozens of sharp wooden spikes erupted from his arm, shooting toward Kenshin in a deadly, whistling spread. Each spike was hardened with chakra, gleaming like polished daggers, capable of piercing steel.
Kenshin's hands blurred in response.
Earth Release: Mud Wall.
A thick barrier of compacted earth rose between them with a deep rumble, the wooden spikes embedding deep with dull thuds but not breaking through.
Obito didn't stop. More seals, chakra flaring green at his fingertips.
Wood Release: Great Forest Technique.
His arm transformed, wood sprouting and extending like living, grasping tendrils, wrapping around the mud wall and crushing it to powder. The tendrils continued forward, seeking to ensnare Kenshin, creaking with unnatural life.
Kenshin's Rokugan tracked every tendril's chakra pathway, the flows bright as glowing veins in his sight.
Fire Release: Intelligent Hard Work.
A concentrated, white-hot fireball erupted from his palm, incinerating the wooden tendrils mid-approach. Ash and embers filled the air, the smell of charred wood thick and acrid, catching in the throat.
Through the smoke, Kenshin's voice rang out, amused.
"Wood Style has always been overhyped just because the First Hokage used it. The God of Shinobi was different in his own right."
"I should know—I fought him and won."
Although he was nerfed by a low-tier caster.
Obito pulled out his signature weapon—the large chain with a sickle at one end and a weighted kunai at the other. He swung it in a wide, whistling arc, the sickle gleaming dully.
"Kakuzu fought him as well."
This bastard.
Kenshin dodged with Soru, but Obito had anticipated—
He let go of the weighted end, using Kamui to warp it mid-flight, repositioning it behind Kenshin with a ripple of distorted space.
The kunai shot toward Kenshin's back, silent and deadly.
Kenshin's Observation Haki pinged the spatial distortion. He spun, catching the chain mid-air with his bare hand—Immunity System preventing any poison on the metal from affecting him.
He yanked, hard.
Obito was pulled forward by the chain, his intangibility flickering as he tried to phase—
—but Kenshin had already moved. Universal Pull activated, dragging Obito even faster toward him.
Obito had no choice but to solidify to brace against the pull—
—and Kenshin's Chakra-Enhanced Punch met his jaw.
CRACK.
Obito's head snapped back, his mask cracking down the center with a sound like breaking pottery. He flew backward, crashing into the wall with enough force to crater the stone, dust and fragments raining down around him.
He slumped, dazed, the broken mask falling away in pieces, revealing the scarred, grim set of his mouth.
Kenshin dropped the chain, dusting off his hands.
"Get up. I've yet to place a Rasengan on your back."
Obito pushed himself up, blood trickling from his split lip. His Sharingan spun faster, the pain sharpening his focus, the red light intensifying.
He's stronger than I anticipated. Faster.
Obito's hands wove seals, chakra surging through him like a rising tide.
Wood Release: Nativity of a World of Trees.
The ground erupted. Massive trees burst from the stone floor, growing at unnatural, terrifying speed, filling the chamber with a dense, twisting forest. Roots wrapped around pillars with crushing force, branches crashed through the ceiling, leaves and splinters raining down, blocking out the faint light.
Within seconds, the chamber was transformed into a shadowy wooden labyrinth, the air thick with the scent of sap and damp soil.
Kenshin stood amidst the chaos, trees growing around him, roots reaching for his legs like skeletal hands.
His Rokugan analyzed the technique in real-time.
Hashirama's signature jutsu. Obito's version is weaker—lacks the chakra suppression and life-draining properties. But the scale is still impressive.
He raised one hand.
Almighty Push.
The repulsive force detonated outward in a perfect, silent sphere, snapping trees, shattering roots, clearing a fifty-meter radius around him. Wood fragments exploded outward like shrapnel, peppering the remaining walls.
When the dust settled, Kenshin stood in a perfectly circular clearing, surrounded by splintered wood and drifting pollen.
But Obito wasn't in the clearing.
Kenshin's Observation Haki flared—where is he?
Then he felt it. The trees around the clearing—all of them—began to glow faintly with chakra.
Explosive tags. Hidden in the wood.
Oh.
The tags detonated.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM—
A chain reaction of explosions ripped through the chamber, each blast triggering the next. Fire and force consumed the wooden labyrinth, the shockwaves overlapping, creating a hellish, roaring inferno. Heat washed outward, scorching the stone, the sound deafening.
The entire base shook. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling in a gritty torrent.
When the explosions finally ceased, the chamber was a smoking ruin—charred wood, shattered stone, and lingering flames licking at the rubble. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of burned earth.
Obito stood at the edge of the destruction, Sharingan scanning the wreckage for Kenshin's body.
Did that—
A voice, calm and amused, came from directly behind him.
"That actually stung a bit."
Obito spun—
Kenshin stood there, cloak singed at the edges, a thin, bleeding cut on his cheek, but otherwise unharmed. He'd used Instant Transmission to teleport to Obito's chakra signature the moment the explosions started.
"Good trap. Creative. But you forgot something."
Obito's eye widened, the Sharingan spinning wildly.
"I can teleport too."
Kenshin's palm shot forward—Chakra-Enhanced Strike aimed at Obito's chest.
Obito activated Kamui, phasing—
—but Kenshin had predicted that. His other hand clapped mid-strike.
Boogie Woogie.
Obito's body swapped places with a piece of burning wood while he was intangible.
The dimensional anchor disrupted. Obito's Kamui flickered, destabilizing in a visible warp of misfiring space—
—and Kenshin's strike landed, solid and brutal, against Obito's ribs.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
Three ribs shattered. Obito coughed blood, a spray of crimson in the smoky air, his body ragdolling into the rubble with a heavy, final impact.
As Obito struggled to push himself up, Kenshin flickered, appearing behind him in a blur of motion.
A Rasengan formed in his palm, blue-white and screaming with condensed chakra, and he rammed it into Obito's back, slamming him down into the stone with a grinding, devastating impact.
"Scratch that off my bucket list."
He smiled, a cold, satisfied curve of his lips, then turned to face the shadows where Black Zetsu lingered.
"Take me to Madara's corpse, unfilial child."
The light in his dōjutsu gleamed.