Deep within the recesses of the earth, far from the light of civilization, lay a cavern that seemed to defy nature itself. The massive hollow stretched endlessly into darkness, carved from the living rock of an ancient mountain. No sunlight had touched these depths for millennia, and the oppressive weight of stone and shadow pressed down like a physical presence.
In the heart of this subterranean cathedral, a colossal figure sat in eternal meditation. The Gedo Mazo—the empty husk of the Ten-Tails—loomed above the cavern floor like a monument to forgotten power. Its skeletal frame, humanoid yet alien, remained perfectly still, but there was something alive about its presence. Something waiting.
Four broken figures lay scattered across the stone floor before the statue, their bodies pierced by black receivers that jutted from their flesh like grotesque acupuncture needles. The metal rods varied in length, some as short as kunai, others resembling spears that had been driven deep into bone and muscle. Sealing tags covered their prone forms, the paper rustling softly with each labored breath. These were the Jinchūriki—the living containers of the tailed beasts—reduced to nothing more than vessels to be emptied.
A crimson gourd sat among them, its surface gleaming dully in the cavern's perpetual twilight. The container of Gaara's sand, now separated from its master like everything else precious in this place of death and extraction.
Near the cavern's entrance, two figures stood in tense conversation. The first wore a mask that covered his face.
His presence carried the weight of old secrets and older sins. Beside him, a man with flowing red hair and eyes that held the rippling pattern of legend itself—the Rinnegan, the most feared dōjutsu in the ninja world.
"Are you really going to use this method?" The masked man's voice carried a note of caution, though whether from concern or calculation was impossible to tell.
Nagato's purple eyes, their rippling pattern catching what little light filtered through the cavern, fixed on his companion with cold certainty. "Besides this, is there any other way?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge. Both men knew the answer, but neither wanted to speak it aloud. Their grand design—the plan to reshape the world through pain and understanding—had met its greatest obstacle in the form of one man. Namikaze Minato, the Yellow Flash, the Fourth Hokage who should have been dead but stubbornly refused to remain so.
"Even with the help of the Golem's power," the masked man continued, his visible eye narrowing, "you won't be able to exert the same powerful eye power as you did that day, right?"
The memory of that confrontation still burned in both their minds. Nagato had unleashed everything—the full might of the Rinnegan, techniques that could level mountains and remake the very earth itself. For a moment, it had seemed as though victory was within reach. But Minato had proven once again why he was called the most dangerous man alive, turning the tide with a combination of tactical brilliance and raw power that left even the wielder of the Sage's eyes humbled.
"Even if you can use such powerful eye power again," the masked man pressed, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "what's the use? In the end, you will still be no match for Namikaze Minato."
Nagato's jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck standing out like steel cables. The words struck deep because they held the bitter taste of truth. How many times had he replayed that battle in his mind? How many different strategies had he considered, only to reach the same inevitable conclusion? Minato wasn't just fast—he was unpredictable, adaptable, and possessed of a will that seemed to burn brighter than the sun itself.
"The only way left now," Nagato said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute conviction, "is for me to obtain the power of the five tailed beasts and the golem, so that I can have a chance to defeat that guy."
As he spoke, something shifted in his eyes—a flicker of madness that had been growing stronger with each passing day. The Rinnegan's rippling pattern seemed to pulse with inner fire, reflecting the desperate hunger that had consumed him. Peace through pain, understanding through suffering—these noble ideals had slowly been eaten away by the cancer of obsession. Now, only the need for power remained.
"You will hurt the golem if you do this," the masked man warned, his voice carrying genuine concern for their plans if not for Nagato himself. "And you may not be able to withstand this force."
The extraction process was sacred, a ritual that had been planned for years. The tailed beasts had to be sealed in order, from One-Tail to Nine-Tail, allowing the Gedo Mazo to gradually awaken and accept its former power. To force five beasts into the statue simultaneously would be like trying to channel lightning through a paper scroll—the container might survive, but it would be forever changed.
More terrifying still was the impact such power would have on Nagato himself. The chakra of five tailed beasts flowing through one person, even one with the blood of the Uzumaki clan and the eyes of the Sage himself, would be like trying to contain an ocean in a teacup. The human body, no matter how enhanced, had limits.
"There is no other choice," Nagato replied, his gaze fixed on the masked man with unwavering intensity. "Sunagakure and Kirigakure have already formed an alliance with Konoha, and Takigakure has also attached itself to Konoha. Namikaze Minato has already used the space-time ninjutsu to connect several villages with each other."
The strategic situation had deteriorated beyond their worst projections. What should have been a series of isolated targets had become a unified front, bound together by the Yellow Flash's mastery of space-time techniques. Flying Thunder God seals now marked key locations across the ninja world, allowing Minato to appear anywhere his allies needed him within seconds.
"It is almost impossible to capture the One-Tail Jinchūriki first," Nagato continued, his voice carrying the bitter edge of frustration. "You should know this better than me."
The masked man did know. He had seen the defensive measures Konoha had implemented, the way they had turned each allied village into a fortress connected by instantaneous travel. Gaara, the One-Tail's container, was now surrounded by layers of protection that would make extraction nearly impossible. Even if they could reach him, Minato would arrive before they could complete the sealing.
"As long as we can get rid of Namikaze Minato," Nagato said, his voice rising with the fervor of absolute belief, "Konoha will be no problem, and the other ninja countries will not pose any threat at all."
It was the truth, and they both knew it. Remove Minato from the equation, and the entire alliance structure would collapse like a house of cards. Without the Yellow Flash binding them together, the villages would retreat into isolation, each focused on protecting their own interests. The tailed beasts would become accessible again, and the plan could proceed as originally intended.
"As you wish," the masked man said finally, his shoulders sagging with the weight of acceptance.
He understood the logic, even if he questioned the wisdom. On his own, he no longer possessed the strength to challenge Minato directly. The last encounter had stripped away his illusions about his own power, leaving him with the bitter knowledge that even the forbidden techniques of the Uchiha clan were not enough to overcome the Fourth Hokage's combination of skill and determination.
The battle had left more than physical scars. It had planted seeds of doubt that grew stronger with each passing day, whispering questions about whether their cause was truly just or merely the product of wounded pride and desperate ambition.
"It would take about half a month to seal all five tailed beasts in a row," Nagato continued, his tone shifting to pure tactical calculation, "even if all members of the Akatsuki organization were present."
The process would be grueling, requiring every ounce of chakra and concentration the organization could muster. Each tailed beast would fight the sealing with every fiber of their being, their rage and desperation creating psychic storms that could shatter lesser minds. The members would have to maintain perfect synchronization for days at a time, their bodies pushed to the absolute limit of endurance.
"I'll leave everything that happened during this period to you," Nagato said, his eyes meeting the masked man's with implicit trust.
Both the Rock Ninja and the Cloud Ninja had already discovered that their Jinchūriki had been taken. Soon, they would realize that the Akatsuki was responsible, and the manhunt would begin in earnest. During the sealing process, powerful chakra fluctuations would erupt from the cavern like a beacon, drawing every sensor in the ninja world straight to their location.
The masked man nodded grimly. He would maintain the perception barriers, deflect the search parties, and buy them the time they needed. It was a task that would require every trick he had learned in his years of shadows and deception.
The space before his eyes began to twist and warp, reality bending around the focal point of his Sharingan. The familiar spiral of his Kamui technique opened like a doorway to another dimension, and he stepped through without looking back. The portal collapsed behind him with a sound like tearing silk, leaving Nagato alone with his terrible purpose.
Nagato turned slowly, his movements deliberate and measured. Each step echoed in the vast cavern as he walked deeper into the darkness, toward the waiting statue and the prone forms of his victims. The weight of what he was about to do pressed down on him like a physical force, but he pushed it aside with the iron discipline that had carried him through years of war and loss.
"Let's get started," he said, his voice carrying clearly through the cavern's depths.
As soon as the words left his lips, the shadows came alive. Footsteps echoed from every corner of the cavern as the members of the Akatsuki organization emerged from their hiding places. They moved with the fluid grace of predators, their dark cloaks seeming to absorb what little light remained in the chamber.
Each member bore the weight of their own sins, their own reasons for joining this crusade against the established order. Some sought power, others redemption, and a few simply wanted to watch the world burn. But all of them understood that this moment would define not just their mission, but the fate of the ninja world itself.
"Let's get started," Nagato repeated, his voice carrying the finality of judgment.
The organization moved as one, their footsteps creating a rhythm like distant thunder as they approached the unconscious Jinchūriki. The air itself seemed to thicken with anticipation, charged with the promise of power and the threat of catastrophe.
Boom!
Nagato's hands came together in a series of complex seals, each gesture precise and deliberate. The chakra that flowed through him was like liquid fire, burning away doubt and hesitation until only pure will remained. The Gedo Mazo responded to his call, its massive form shuddering as though awakening from eons of slumber.
The statue's clenched hands, each finger the size of a grown man, slowly opened with a sound like grinding stone. Dust and debris rained down from the cavern ceiling as the ancient construct stirred, its movements sending vibrations through the earth itself.
Swish!
As one, Nagato and the other members of the Akatsuki leaped upward, their bodies moving with inhuman grace. They landed on different fingers of the Gedo Mazo, each taking their assigned position around the statue's massive hands. From this height, the Jinchūriki below looked like broken dolls, their suffering reduced to mere components in a greater design.
"First is the Two-Tails," Nagato said, his voice carrying clearly despite the distance. His purple eyes, now glowing with inner fire, fixed on the unconscious form of Yugito Nii, the kunoichi from the Hidden Cloud Village.
She had been beautiful once, with flowing blonde hair and eyes that sparkled with determination. Now she lay motionless, her body pierced by black receivers that disrupted her chakra flow and kept her trapped in unconsciousness. The sealing tags that covered her skin pulsed with suppressive energy, ensuring that neither she nor the beast within her could resist what was to come.
Nagato raised his hand toward her prone form, and immediately her body began to rise. She floated upward as though lifted by invisible strings, her limbs hanging limp and lifeless. White origami papers fluttered around her like snow, each one infused with chakra that supported her weight and held her in the perfect position for the extraction.
The papers were Konan's work, a manifestation of her unique abilities and her unwavering loyalty to their cause. Each sheet was a small masterpiece of chakra manipulation, capable of supporting massive weights or exploding with devastating force. Now they served as a gentle cradle for the woman who was about to lose everything.
"Do it," Nagato commanded, his voice echoing through the cavern with the authority of a god.
The other members of the Akatsuki began their preparations, their hands moving through seals with practiced precision. Each one was a master of their craft, skilled in techniques that could reshape the very fabric of reality. Together, they formed a circle of power around the floating Jinchūriki, their combined chakra creating a field of energy that made the air itself shimmer.
The seals were complex, requiring perfect synchronization between all participants. One mistake, one moment of hesitation, and the entire process could collapse in catastrophic failure. But these were not ordinary ninja—they were the elite of the elite, chosen for their power and their absolute dedication to the cause.
As the seals continued to change, the Gedo Mazo's mouth began to open. The movement was gradual, like a flower blooming in reverse, revealing the void within. A soft buzzing filled the air, growing louder with each passing second until it became a low, thrumming vibration that seemed to resonate in the very bones of those present.
Buzz!
Lavender light began to emanate from the statue's throat, beautiful and terrible in its alien radiance. The glow pulsed with a rhythm like a heartbeat, each pulse drawing more energy from the surrounding air. The light was hypnotic, seeming to reach into the minds of those who gazed upon it and whisper of power beyond mortal comprehension.
When the seals in their hands finally stabilized, Nagato stepped forward, his chakra surging beyond anything his companions could match. The Rinnegan's pattern spun faster, each ripple containing enough power to level a small mountain. A sound emerged from deep in his throat, primal and commanding, the voice of one who had transcended ordinary human limitations.
"Phantom Dragon Nine Seals!" he roared, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority.
ROAR!
The response was immediate and overwhelming. The Gedo Mazo's mouth opened wide, revealing the abyss within, and from that void emerged something that defied description. It was a dragon made of pure chakra, its form shifting and flowing like liquid lightning. The creature's body was translucent, allowing glimpses of the power that flowed through it like molten metal.
The dragon's eyes were points of brilliant light, ancient and knowing, holding the wisdom of ages and the hunger of eternity. It moved with fluid grace, its serpentine form coiling through the air as it descended toward the floating Jinchūriki. Each movement left trails of energy that lingered in the air like glowing scars across reality itself.
Swoosh!
The dragon struck with the force of a thunderbolt, its ethereal form passing through Yugito's body as though she were made of mist. But the impact was anything but gentle. The moment the creature made contact, her eyes snapped open, revealing orbs of pure agony.
"AHHHH!" The scream that tore from her throat was barely human, a sound of suffering so profound that it seemed to shake the very foundations of the cavern.
Her voice broke halfway through the cry, her throat unable to sustain the intensity of her pain. Blood vessels burst in her eyes, turning the whites crimson as her body convulsed with the force of what was being torn from her soul. Her beautiful features contorted into a mask of agony, every muscle in her face standing out in stark relief.
The chakra emanating from her body was like a physical force, wild and untamed, lashing out in all directions as the beast within her fought against the extraction. The air around her shimmered with heat, and the stone beneath began to crack and splinter from the pressure of her unleashed power.
Boom!
Blue flames erupted from Yugito's body, but these were not ordinary flames. They burned with the cold fire of the netherworld, consuming nothing while somehow seeming to devour everything. The flames danced and writhed, taking on shapes that hurt to look at directly, forming patterns that spoke of ancient power and primal rage.
As the flames grew stronger, they began to coalesce into something more substantial. The fire gathered and compressed, forming the outline of a massive creature that seemed to exist in the space between dimensions. Its form was feline but wrong, too large and too perfect to be natural.
The Two-Tails materialized in all its terrible glory, a creature of living flame and boundless fury. Its body was that of a gigantic cat, but its proportions were subtly wrong in ways that made the mind recoil. The creature's fur was made of blue fire that never consumed, and its eyes were pits of molten gold that held the accumulated rage of centuries.
Matatabi!
The beast's true name echoed through the cavern like a curse, carrying with it the weight of myth and legend. This was one of the nine beings of ultimate power, a fragment of the Ten-Tails that had once threatened to unmake the world itself. Now it was being torn from its host, its essence flowing into the waiting maw of its progenitor.
The Two-Tails' entire body trembled with the effort of resistance, its flames flickering and dancing as it fought against the inexorable pull of the Phantom Dragon. But the creature was weakened by years of imprisonment within a human host, and the combined power of the Akatsuki was too much for it to overcome.
"Just let me in," Nagato said, his voice carrying the cold certainty of fate itself.
His eyes had grown darker, the purple irises now shot through with veins of black that pulsed with each heartbeat. The Rinnegan's pattern spun faster, each revolution drawing more power from the depths of his being. The technique was pushing him to his limits, but he embraced the pain with the fervor of a zealot.
The Gedo Mazo's mouth seemed to expand, growing wider and wider until it resembled a portal to another dimension. The suction that emerged from within was beyond physical force—it was the pull of gravity itself, the attraction of mass calling to mass across the void of space.
The Two-Tails fought with everything it had, its claws extended and its fangs bared in a futile display of defiance. But the battle was already lost. The creature's form began to stretch and distort, its essence being drawn inexorably toward the waiting statue.
Gulp!
The sound of the Gedo Mazo swallowing the Two-Tails was like the collapse of a mountain, a deep rumble that seemed to come from the very heart of the earth. The creature's form compressed and folded in on itself, its flames dimming as it disappeared into the statue's waiting maw.
After consuming the Two-Tails' chakra, the Gedo Mazo seemed to come more fully alive. Its previously inert form now pulsed with internal energy, and the suction from its mouth grew stronger, more insistent. The ancient hunger that had driven it to consume the world was awakening, fed by the first taste of its former power.
Blue flames continued to flow from Yugito's body, but now they were weaker, more diffuse. The chakra that had once burned with the intensity of a star was being steadily drained away, feeding the growing appetite of the statue. Her body convulsed with each pulse of energy that was torn from her, but her screams had faded to barely audible whimpers.
Nagato's eyes lifted to regard the Gedo Mazo's head, where nine eyes remained tightly closed. He knew the truth that others did not—sealing the tailed beasts in this manner, forcing them into the statue simultaneously rather than in sequence, would not unlock the creature's true power. The Ten-Tails would not be reborn, not yet.
But even this incomplete awakening would grant him strength beyond mortal comprehension. He could feel it already, the power flowing through the statue and into his own body through the connection forged by the Rinnegan. It was like drinking liquid lightning, each drop burning away a little more of his humanity while replacing it with something greater and more terrible.
The chakra of the Two-Tails was vast, accumulated over centuries of existence and refined through decades of imprisonment. As it flowed into the Gedo Mazo, Nagato could feel his own reserves expanding, his techniques growing stronger, his very presence becoming more imposing.
This was just the beginning. Four more tailed beasts awaited extraction, and with each one, his power would grow exponentially. Soon, he would possess the strength to challenge even the Yellow Flash himself, to bring his vision of peace through pain to its ultimate conclusion.
The ninja world would tremble before the might of a god, and from that trembling, true understanding would finally be born.