"Wait, hold on. Edo Tensei? Seriously?"
"Is that even feasible?"
"It feels…wrong, doesn't it? Disturbing the rest of the dead like this."
The command tent erupted into a cacophony of overlapping voices, every leader and advisor throwing in their opinion. The scene descended into chaos.
Then, the Second Tsuchikage, Mū, cut through the noise with a dry, almost bored tone.
"You do all realize that technically, we are the dead ones here, right?"
That single statement silenced the room. An assortment of awkward glances were exchanged. Well, when he put it that way…
"If it wins us this war, I have no objection in principle," said Tobirama, his voice flat and ruthlessly practical as ever. "But the pertinent question is, how will resurrecting a legion of deceased shinobi impact our offensive against the Land of Waves? Specifically, against the Espada?"
"Ugh, you are impossibly dense," Madara groaned, rolling his eyes as if Tobirama were a particularly slow child. He crossed his arms. "It's a simple matter of overwhelming the enemy with numbers. We swarm them."
"Swarm them?" Tobirama's face contorted as if he'd just bitten into something sour. "You really believe numbers are a relevant factor against the kind of power we saw?"
"Why not?" Madara shot back. "With enough ants, you can take down an elephant."
"Oh, spare me the folk wisdom! You remember your battles with my brother! No one else could even get close! What delusion makes you think sheer numbers will prevail now?"
"Because back then," Madara said, his voice dripping with contempt, "you weren't even strong enough to qualify as the ants. At least ants are a nuisance. You were just… dust."
Tobirama's face flushed a brilliant crimson. "What did you say, you bastard?!"
"Can you not understand plain speech? I said you weren't even qualified to be called an ant."
"But, Lord Madara," Mū interjected smoothly, sidestepping the feud between the two ancient rivals, "the strength of those ressurected by Edo Tensei is limited to the level they possessed in their life. Do they even have the 'qualification to be ants' you speak of?"
"They don't. Not yet," Madara stated with a shrug that was far too casual for the gravity of the discussion. "But I'll fix that."
That declaration seized the room's attention. Every eye was fixed on him, brimming with skepticism.
"You?" someone muttered under their breath.
"You doubt me?" Madara challenged, a smug smirk twisting his lips.
"It is not a matter of doubt, Lord Madara," Hiruzen said, choosing his words with diplomatic care as he rubbed his temples. "It is simply… a great deal to process. Perhaps you could provide us with a brief overview of your plan, so we might understand what we are committing to."
A proud, arrogant grin spread across Madara's face. "It's simple. The Hollowfication Factor."
The announcement detonated in the silence.
"What?!"
"The Hollowfication Factor?"
"But that's…that's their technology! That comes from the Land of Waves!"
"Madara, you didn't…"
Even Tobirama looked taken aback.
"Precisely," Madara confirmed. "And it is not their 'thing.' It is merely a substance extracted from high-level Arrancar. They do not hold absolute control it."
"But you required their specific technology and materials to synthesize it, did you not?" Tobirama couldn't resist adding, ever the nitpicker.
"Will you shut your mouth?!" Madara snapped, shooting him a venomous glare. He turned to Orochimaru. "We're done debating. Begin the ritual."
Without a word of protest, Orochimaru nodded and led the procession to the center of the camp. His hands flew through a rapid, intricate series of hand signs.
The commotion began to draw a crowd. Shinobi from every corner of the allied forces peeked out from their tents and gathered around the perimeter, their curiosity piqued by the gathering of leaders and the palpable tension.
"Stand easy, everyone!" Hiruzen announced, his voice projecting authority across the assembly. "We are performing the Edo Tensei jutsu! We shall call upon the great shinobi of the past to stand with us against our enemy!"
A wave of astonished murmurs rippled through the ranks.
"Edo Tensei? Is that even possible?"
"Incredible."
"Look at those hand signs…he's preparing it on a massive scale."
On the raised platform, Orochimaru completed his preparations. He took a sharp breath and slammed his palm onto the ground. "Edo Tensei no Jutsu!"
The earth trembled with a low, ominous rumble. A massive cloud of dust and debris exploded upward, swirling and coalescing into a towering pillar. It was a terrifying and spectacular display of power.
"Damn. That's… impressive," Mū whispered, a rare note of respect in his voice.
The Fourth Raikage, ever the pragmatist, scowled. "Where did you even procure the necessary sacrifices for a ritual of this scale?"
"Don't you worry about that," the White Zetsu chirped, popping up from the ground with a creepy, stretched grin. "They were all grown from my cells. I had to make some pretty significant sacrifices to have a chance at taking down Hayashi Yuto, you know?"
"The shinobi world will not forget your service," Hiruzen said, his tone formal and grave.
"Meh, don't mention it. We're all on the same side here," White Zetsu replied with a dismissive wave.
As he spoke, the swirling dust began to solidify, shaping itself into hundreds—no, thousands—of human figures. As one, they opened their eyes, blinking and looking around in confusion.
It worked.
—
One of the newly arrived was a man named Nakajima Yosuke. In his day, during the Second Great Shinobi War, he was known in other villages as "Black Yosuke."
A Kirigakure jōnin whose mastery of the sword and Water Release jutsu was so formidable, some said he could rival the legendary Seven Swordsmen of the Mist.
The first thing he felt was… disorientation. The last thing he remembered was the cold seep of blood leaving his body on some forgotten battlefield. So why was he here, whole and breathing?
"What the…? I'm dead. Aren't I?"
"Y-Yosuke? Big brother, is that really you?"
Yosuke turned. Standing there was an old man, his face a roadmap of wrinkles but still hauntingly familiar. "Kanzawa? Little Kanzawa?"
"It's me!" the old man said, his voice cracking with emotion as he rushed forward. "I never thought… I never thought I'd see you again."
"Look at you," Yosuke said, a lopsided grin breaking out on his face. "You got old. Really old. What happened? Did I miss a few decades?"
Kanzawa let out a wet, choked laugh and began to explain.
It was a wild tale—an alliance of the great villages, a hidden enemy in the Land of Waves wielding impossible power. The entire world was teetering on the brink.
"So you need us old-timers to come back and clean up your mess, is that it?" Yosuke sighed, the weight of the situation settling on him. "These Espada… they must be real monsters."
"You have no idea," Kanzawa said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Hey, chin up. We're here now. We'll handle it." Yosuke clapped a hand on his old friend's shoulder. Then his expression softened, a hint of vulnerability showing through. "So… how's Hanako? Is she doing okay? It couldn't have been easy for her, raising our child all on her own."
Kanzawa froze. His eyes widened in sheer panic. "Uh. About Hanako… she, um…"
"Dad! Hey, Dad!"
A young kunoichi, probably in her early twenties, came jogging up, her movements full of youthful energy.
"Mom says to stop gossiping and come home. Dinner's almost ready."
Kanzawa looked as if he wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole. "Ahem. Not now, sweetie."
Yosuke's eyes were locked on the girl.
"Hanako?" he whispered, the name falling from his lips like a forgotten prayer.
The girl tilted her head, confused. "Huh? You know my mom?"
The pieces clicked together in Yosuke's mind with an almost audible snap. His head slowly turned back to Kanzawa. His expression morphed from confusion, to dawning horror, and finally settled into pure murderous rage.
"I asked you to look after her," Yosuke said, his voice dropping dangerously low. "My dying wish was, 'Look after my wife, Kanzawa.' And this is how you looked after her?"
"Yosuke, listen, it's not what you—!"
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
Yosuke's hands flew up, already forming the first seal for a Water Dragon jutsu.
And that was just one pocket of chaos in the vast camp.
All across the massive field, similar scenes were playing out—awkward reunions, shocked explanations, and more than a few ancient grievances that were suddenly, and very violently, back on the table.
The Allied Shinobi Forces camp had instantly transformed into the world's most bizarre and perilous family reunion.
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