Half a month passed.
In that short span of time, the ninja world had undergone a transformation no one would have believed possible. Order had returned—at least on the surface. The world was unified. Not just in declaration, but in recognition.
The old divisions between nations and hidden villages had faded into irrelevance.
During the process, resistance had risen—rogue groups, bandits, stubborn nobles, and even daimyo who refused to relinquish power. But they were crushed swiftly, almost effortlessly.
For the first time in history, the Five Great Nations and their villages acted as one.
Against that unity, no opposition could stand.
Even the most ambitious schemers had no choice but to bow their heads, suppress their desires, and accept the new order.
The ninja world had truly unified.
And it had happened at a speed that bordered on the unbelievable.
---
On the rocky plains, leaders from across the world gathered once more.
For half a month, they had been discussing governance—arguing, refining, debating endlessly. The initial framework had grown more detailed, more complete, evolving into something that could actually sustain the future.
Meanwhile, across the world, both civilians and shinobi began to imagine life under this new system.
There were all kinds of opinions.
Some strange.
Some naive.
Some wildly unrealistic.
But one thing was certain—
The idea of unity had taken root.
Hope spread quietly, like fresh sprouts breaking through hardened soil.
People who once lived in despair began to smile again, even if only faintly.
They saw something ahead.
A future.
A possibility of peace.
Even if they remained cautious—
Hope was still hope.
---
"Hashirama… look."
Madara stood with his arms crossed, gazing toward the rising sun.
"This is what people truly wanted," he said quietly. "This is real peace."
His voice softened slightly.
"We could have done this back then… if we had truly worked together."
Hashirama shook his head slowly.
"No… we couldn't have."
Madara frowned.
"You're still saying that?"
"It's not about willingness," Hashirama replied calmly. "It's fate."
"Ashura and Indra… their chakra reincarnates endlessly."
"We were destined to clash."
Madara scoffed, clearly unconvinced.
"I don't believe in fate. If we had trusted each other—"
"Madara," Hashirama interrupted gently, "you wanted peace… yet you still tried to destroy Konoha."
Madara froze.
Because there was no denying it.
Looking back now—
His actions didn't make sense.
---
Tobirama stepped forward, his expression thoughtful.
"The old ninja world…" he said slowly, "was like a scripted story."
"Everyone played their assigned role. Everything followed a fixed path."
He paused briefly.
"Until Naruto appeared."
"Only an external variable could break that cycle. Only then could people truly control their own destiny."
His gaze shifted to Hashirama.
"Brother… with your vitality, you should have lived far longer."
"Yet you died early."
"At the time, it seemed natural."
"But now… it's absurd."
Madara's eyes narrowed.
He had never questioned it before.
But now—
It truly didn't add up.
Hashirama scratched his head awkwardly.
"Well… speaking of that, Tobirama, you're no better."
"You had the Flying Thunder God technique. You could have escaped."
"Yet you died against Kinkaku and Ginkaku."
Tobirama let out a quiet breath.
"…Yeah. Looking back, that was pretty ridiculous."
---
The Third Raikage stepped forward, his arms crossed.
"I'm no different," he said. "I fought for three days and nights to cover my comrades' escape… and died from exhaustion."
He paused.
"But honestly? One day would have been enough."
"I could have escaped too."
"But I didn't."
Ōnoki sighed heavily.
"And when I faced Madara… I just stood there and watched my people die."
"For three whole days."
"I could have acted sooner."
"But I didn't."
The Third Mizukage spoke next, his voice low.
"Our village was already falling into chaos before Obito even interfered."
"Bloody purges. Brutality. Madness."
"And I… allowed it to happen."
Rasa lowered his head.
"Gaara… my own son."
"I made him a Jinchūriki."
"I should have nurtured him."
"Instead… I isolated him. Hurt him."
"I turned him into something unstable."
Around them, others nodded in agreement.
"Every village treated their Jinchūriki like monsters."
"When we should have treated them like heroes."
"Built bonds. Earned their trust."
"It's like we all chose the worst possible decisions…"
"Every single time."
"And somehow…"
"Everything still held together."
A quiet voice murmured:
"It's almost like… fate forced it."
---
The gathering slowly turned into something unexpected.
A massive "roast session."
They mocked their own past.
Laughed at their mistakes.
Pointed out the absurdity of it all.
For the first time—
They were honest.
---
"Stupid?" Fugaku let out a low chuckle.
"The Uchiha were no different."
Sasuke turned toward him, confused.
"Father?"
Fugaku sighed deeply.
"Sasuke… you've always hated your brother."
"But think about it."
"He was thirteen."
"How could he possibly wipe out the entire Uchiha clan alone?"
Sasuke froze.
"The truth is…" Fugaku continued, his voice heavy, "we all lost our will that night."
"Like puppets."
"If the clan had truly resisted…"
"Even Itachi and Obito together couldn't have done it."
"That night…"
"The real Uchiha disappeared."
Sasuke's world trembled.
Everything he believed in—
Felt unstable.
---
Not far away, Obito crouched alone, listening.
For the first time—
He understood.
His entire life…
Had followed a script.
Rin's death.
His hatred.
Every decision he made.
None of it fully made sense anymore.
Why hadn't he sought revenge on Kakashi?
Why had he turned against Minato without hesitation?
"…Because I was meant to," he whispered.
"I was just… a piece on the board."
Tears streamed down his face.
"I was never free."
---
After that emotional unraveling, the meeting resumed.
And this time—
It flowed.
Smoothly.
Old grudges softened.
Hostility faded.
Even former enemies began to cooperate.
Because now, everyone understood something fundamental.
The old ninja world—
Had been broken.
And the new one—
Was filled with possibility.
For the first time—
They were no longer bound by fate.
No longer puppets.
No longer tools.
No longer pieces on a board.
They were—
Finally—
Free.
Masters of their own destiny.
-------------------------
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