Moke drifted higher and closed his eyes. Within his Grand-World, he first called back the rain of fire and the killing frost, then reached down to the earth and spoke to the soil itself.
Twenty kilometers was a lot to mend. It took him a minute.
He opened his eyes, spread his palm toward the wasteland, and slowly curled his fingers into a fist.
"Rise, earth."
Those who had remained at the edge of the Death Forest felt the ground shiver beneath their boots. Panic pricked for a heartbeat, then faded when they saw it was Moke working.
The tremor swelled. Cracked plates split open across the scarred forest floor, and from those wounds welled fresh brown loam, pushing the charred layer downward. It was as if an invisible engine had plowed the land again and again.
In moments the inferno's battlefield became clean tilth, alive with promise. Even the bottomless pit gouged by Nova filled as neighboring soil flowed in.
"Close enough," he thought, a shade rueful. "If I already commanded life I could lay a Tree Realm here myself."
No matter. Konoha still had a civil engineer in shinobi's clothing. Someone named Yamato was going to be very, very tired soon.
Grinning to himself, Moke dropped Bankai and glided toward the main gate of the training ground, descending in front of the Third and his retinue.
Kakashi stood behind Hiruzen, eyes burning as he watched the red figure approach.
What a force. The masked man's hundred-meter wooden avatar had already broken Kakashi's faith. He had sifted through every technique he knew and found only one ending against such a foe. Perhaps he could weave forty-four signs to call a Water Dragon, leave proof he existed, then sprint in with Raikiri, scratch the varnish on that wooden giant and die like a man.
The teacher he had just chosen made even that nightmare turn and run, and then lopped its legs off on the way out.
"If I had power like that," he thought, breath quivering beneath his mask, "everything would be different."
He tightened his posture and hid the tremor. The whole wall of jonin behind Hiruzen shook the same way. No one noticed.
Moke touched down and walked in. Hiruzen met Danzo's gaze, gave the smallest shake of his head. Not now. Then he stepped forward wearing an easy smile.
"Hahaha. As expected of Lord Moke. You routed the intruder as if it were nothing. I suspect no one in the world could last a single exchange with you now."
Moke's mouth tilted. "You flatter me, greatest Hokage of all time. And someone is still itching to try."
His eyes slid to Danzo and lingered. The fox-bone mask still framed pupils that burned with bloodthirst. One look and cold sweat drenched Danzo's spine. He did not move a finger.
"Haha… how could that be. Lord Moke is a comrade of Konoha…"
Moke waved the line away, crushed the mask in one hand, leaned to Hiruzen's ear, and spoke plainly.
"Drop the playacting, Third. I do not care whether that fake Uchiha Madara is your enemy. I came to collect a little interest for Kushina, and because I felt like stretching. That is all."
"If you find other enemies, do not imagine I will help Konoha. With the people you have, why would I. Even if your village burns, what does that change for me. I can take Naruto and pick any other town to live in. You see my point."
He did not wait for the answer. A thread of spirit pressure carried a few private words to Kakashi, and Moke lifted off into the air.
Hiruzen glared sideways at Danzo. In his mind he had smiled so kindly. If Moke was this prickly, surely it was Danzo's fault again. Danzo's face was the shade of an iron pot. Beside him, Uchiha Fugaku and Hyuga Hiashi were thoughtful and tight-lipped.
Many jonin had wanted to crowd Moke, to thank him, to bask in the heat. Watching him leave, they could only swallow their questions and turn to the Hokage. Hiruzen's smile was starting to crack as the swarm pressed in, but he kept soothing them, played the pillar once more.
Above it all Moke's lips curled. The warning was on purpose. He needed Hiruzen to stop fantasizing about a Red Savior standing behind Konoha. That way, when the Cloud incident came, Hiruzen would still make the same stroke-of-genius move and order Hiashi to kill himself for peace.
Hiruzen would not dare ignore Moke's words. Good. He could not very well tell the jonin that the man they were cheering might also be an enemy of the village leadership.
When the time came, Moke would step out beside the Hyuga and say, with exquisite disappointment, that Konoha would murder its own to flatter a foreign village while he lived and breathed. That would be fun.
—
The Land of Rain sat where Fire, Wind, and Earth met, a famous anvil for other nations' wars. Though inland, rain never ended there, and lowlands filled like seas. On the surface of one such sheet of water a spiral vortex opened and spat out a body.
Obito fell from the swirl and splashed down, legless.
Blood spread in a wide red halo. He rolled with a wince and floated on his back, eyes vacant beneath the overcast. He could not make himself accept it. Three years ago he had lost to the Yellow Flash and told himself it was a matter of experience. Minato's nose for battle had been one of the keenest in the world.
Now some nameless boy had taken him apart and sent him away without his legs.
"Ah, Obito-san, this is a disaster. I lost a leg too. You are absolutely taking me to the toilet from now on or I refuse to help."
White Zetsu's prattle broke his stare. "Shut up," Obito snapped. "Stop the bleeding."
"So mean," White Zetsu sniffed, already working. He puckered around the gory stumps, sealing the flow before their future bathroom saga became a moot point for both of them.
A curious plant broke the surface nearby, petals parting like shoulder plates to reveal the half-black, half-white figure hidden within. Black Zetsu stepped from the cradle without preamble. He had watched everything.
"What now, Obito. Konoha's strength slipped its leash."
"We accelerate," Obito said through clenched teeth. "Draft a list of missing-nin worth recruiting to Akatsuki. As soon as my legs regrow, I will visit Nagato. Akatsuki is still too thin."
"There is also a prowler along the Rock border," Black Zetsu added. "I tracked him. Orochimaru. The disgusting one. Shall we make contact."
"Do it. Whatever he plots, he cannot stir a storm in Nagato's eyes. As one of the Sannin he has the pedigree."
He paused, thinking again of the red-haired hurricane in Konoha. "I am asking myself whether Nagato, as he is now, can beat that boy. If not, I will use White Zetsu and transplant new legs into Nagato."
"Risky. If Nagato's strength returns in full, we might not be able to rein him in."
"Use a regular White Zetsu body. Nothing exotic. You watch Konoha. I want every scrap on the red-haired kid."
He let the rain drum a few more breaths on his face. "And watch Kakashi. If he leaves the village on mission, tell me immediately."
Black Zetsu blinked. He had nagged Obito a dozen times to repossess Kakashi's eye and been waved off. Hearing this now surprised him.
"So you are ready to cut that thread. Good. Once the Eye of the Moon rises, Kakashi and Rin will both smile again in the world we make."
Obito did not answer. He kept staring at the sullen sky, and thought of bonds that did not help you stand.
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