Black Zetsu's firm tone took White Zetsu by surprise.
"What the heck! We were moving together — so how come you noticed something, but I didn't?"
"Tch!"
Black Zetsu shot his other half a glare, clearly unwilling to entertain such foolishness.
"You're the one who's slacking off, aren't you?!"
At the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Earth, in the Kannabi Bridge region —
this was one of Iwagakure's most critical supply routes.
Yet, hidden beneath this land was a secret capable of shaking the entire ninja world.
The figures of Black and White Zetsu slowly emerged from the ground,
their bodies sliding through the earth using the unique Mayfly Technique,
which allowed them to travel freely through soil, trees, and stone alike.
Beneath the dark underground chamber, White Zetsu glanced at the frail old man seated atop a high platform and mumbled,
"Lord Madara… isn't dead, right?"
"Shut up!"
Before Uchiha Madara could even respond, Black Zetsu barked sharply.
"Are you kidding me? After I've planned for so long — now that there's finally hope — how could I let Uchiha Madara die at this point?!"
"Uh…"
White Zetsu was just about to argue when the old man slowly opened his eyes.
From his high seat, Uchiha Madara regarded them silently.
His body was emaciated and frail — only sustained by the Gedo Statue's power.
He was alive, but only barely.
"Enough," Madara rasped.
He had no patience for their bickering.
What mattered now was whether his grand design was proceeding as planned.
"Have you found the proxy I asked you to locate?"
He knew his time was short.
Even with the Gedo Statue sustaining him, death crept closer with every passing day.
Madara needed a successor — someone to act in his stead and complete the Eye of the Moon Plan after his death.
White Zetsu fell silent immediately, while Madara turned his attention toward Black Zetsu.
He'd never expected competence from White Zetsu anyway.
"There's already a suitable candidate," Black Zetsu replied, producing a scroll and tossing it to Madara.
"Good."
Madara's lips curled into a faint smile. He admired Black Zetsu's calm, efficient demeanor.
Poor fool — he never realized the one truly pulling the strings had always been Black Zetsu himself.
Madara unrolled the scroll and read the contents.
Moments later, he broke into a low, satisfied laugh.
"Hahahaha! Excellent! This one fits perfectly!"
As expected, Black Zetsu's choice aligned seamlessly with Madara's ideals.
White Zetsu, curious, leaned over and took the scroll once Madara had finished reading it.
But after skimming through the information, he frowned in confusion.
"Wait a second… are we seeing the same thing?
Because what I see looks like a total failure!"
He scratched his head in genuine bewilderment.
"Idiot — this is the failure!" Black Zetsu snapped, rolling his eyes.
The scroll contained information about Uchiha Obito — records of his background and life up to this point.
"Huh?! We're really choosing him? A failure? That sounds unreliable!"
"..."
"You're the unreliable one!" Black Zetsu growled.
Both he and Madara gave White Zetsu an exasperated look.
"Why do you have no self-awareness at all? And you still have the nerve to call others unreliable?"
Still, they were used to his idiocy by now.
Madara simply waved a hand dismissively, his voice filled with quiet conviction.
"For a ninja of the Uchiha clan, love is the purest source of power."
Uchiha Obito possessed that love — that unwavering affection for Nohara Rin.
"When that love is shattered," Madara continued,
"talent means nothing.
A ninja's heart becomes the source of their true strength."
The Sharingan's evolution wasn't born solely from talent —
but from pain, from loss, from an obsession that refused to die.
And Obito's obsession was Rin.
Having made up his mind, Madara's voice grew firm.
"Observe this Uchiha Obito.
When the opportunity presents itself, bring him to me."
"Understood," Black and White Zetsu replied in unison.
White Zetsu immediately prepared to leave, but Black Zetsu remained motionless.
"Huh? What's wrong with you? Do you need to take a dump?"
White Zetsu blinked in confusion. Since the two were linked, he couldn't move on his own.
"Idiot!"
Black Zetsu glared at him sharply.
"Could you be any dumber?"
Then, turning to Madara, he continued,
"Lord Madara, today I encountered someone interesting — someone who saw through my and White Zetsu's concealment."
"Oh?"
Madara's eyes narrowed. He understood better than anyone how perfect their stealth was.
To be detected was no small feat.
"Which clan is he from? Uchiha? Senju? Uzumaki?"
"Uh… none of those, but—"
Before Black Zetsu could elaborate, Madara waved a frail hand dismissively.
"If he lacks a special bloodline, then no matter how powerful he is, his potential has limits.
Don't concern yourself with him."
"Uh…"
Though Madara dismissed it, Black Zetsu's instincts urged caution.
He had been scheming for nearly a thousand years; the last thing he wanted was some unforeseen variable disrupting everything.
Sensing his unease, Madara looked at him calmly.
"I don't have much time left, Zetsu."
"...I understand."
After a brief silence, Black and White Zetsu sank back into the earth, vanishing into the shadows.
If Madara had still been in his prime, he might have taken an interest in Aoyama Ryuyun.
But now, his body was failing. His time was nearly over.
The plan had to move forward — at any cost.
And Black Zetsu knew that better than anyone.
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