Moments After Creation
In the depths of the underground laboratory, as the artificial body of Uchiha Madara stood motionless in its cultivation chamber, ripples of information traveled through the hidden networks that connected the darkest corners of the ninja world. The success of Mukade's forbidden experiment did not go unnoticed by those who had been waiting with patient malevolence.
Far from the sterile confines of the laboratory, in a place where earth and shadow merged into eternal twilight, two halves of an ancient consciousness stirred with anticipation. The being known as Zetsu—part plant, part nightmare, part living embodiment of secrets too terrible to speak aloud—received the news through channels that existed beyond normal human perception.
"That guy really made it," White Zetsu announced, his voice carrying a mixture of admiration and dark amusement.
The pale half of the symbiotic entity had been monitoring Mukade's progress through a network of spores and surveillance techniques that would have been impossible for any normal ninja to detect. The medical ninja's descent into forbidden science had been both fascinating and useful, providing Zetsu with valuable intelligence about the resurrection techniques that might prove crucial in the coming conflict.
White Zetsu immediately relayed the information to his darker counterpart, the ancient consciousness that had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, the birth and death of legends. Black Zetsu received the news with the cold satisfaction of a chess master watching his pieces move into their final positions.
"What an amazing talent," Black Zetsu replied, his voice carrying centuries of accumulated malice.
His smile was a thing of pure menace, revealing teeth that seemed to gleam with unnatural light in the perpetual darkness that surrounded him. The successful creation of Madara's artificial body represented more than just a scientific achievement—it was another step toward the ultimate goal that had driven him for a thousand years.
Black Zetsu's gaze shifted, focusing on the distance where chakra light flickered and danced against the barrier that concealed their location. The energy signatures were unmistakable, carrying the weight of power that had once reshaped the world itself. The extraction process was nearing its conclusion, and soon the time for subtle manipulations would be over.
The Cavern of Extraction - Day Ten
Inside the massive cavern where shadows had witnessed horrors beyond imagination, the air itself had become thick with residual chakra and the lingering echoes of screams that would never truly fade. The extraction process had continued without pause for ten consecutive days, each hour marking another step toward either ultimate victory or catastrophic failure.
The Gedo Mazo sat like a monument to hunger itself, its massive form now pulsing with internal energy that made the very stone around it crack and shift. Four of the tailed beasts had been successfully extracted and absorbed—the Two-Tails, Three-Tails, Four-Tails, and Five-Tails—their essence now flowing through the statue's ancient frame like molten metal through carefully crafted channels.
The bodies of the former Jinchūriki lay scattered across the cavern floor like broken dolls, their forms twisted in final moments of agony. Yugito Nii, the proud kunoichi of Kumogakure, had been the first to fall, her blonde hair now matted with blood and her eyes staring sightlessly at the cavern ceiling. The woman who had once contained the Two-Tails was nothing more than an empty shell, her life force completely drained by the extraction process.
Roshi, the elderly jinchūriki of the Four-Tails, lay crumpled against a stone outcropping, his weathered face frozen in an expression of defiance that death itself could not erase. Even in his final moments, the old man had tried to resist, his will burning bright until the very end. But will alone had not been enough to overcome the terrible hunger of the Gedo Mazo.
Han, the Five-Tails' container, had lasted longer than the others, his unique armor and incredible physical conditioning allowing him to endure hours of torture that would have killed lesser men in minutes. But even his legendary endurance had its limits, and now he lay motionless, his steam-powered armor cold and silent.
Buzz!
At this moment, the chakra light that had been emanating steadily from Han's body finally dimmed to its lowest point, flickering like a candle in its final moments before extinction. The Five-Tails' power, accumulated over decades of careful cultivation and battle-tested experience, was being drawn inexorably into the waiting maw of the ancient statue.
Nagato stood at the center of the extraction circle, his body trembling with the effort of maintaining control over forces that threatened to tear him apart from within. He had underestimated the Gedo Mazo's insatiable hunger for the power of the tailed beasts. The speed at which it absorbed chakra was far beyond his most optimistic projections, forcing him to constantly adjust his techniques to prevent the entire process from spiraling into chaos.
On the golem's outstretched hands, the members of the Akatsuki organization maintained their positions despite the obvious toll the prolonged extraction was taking on their bodies and minds. Their faces showed deep fatigue that went beyond mere physical exhaustion—this was the bone-deep weariness that came from channeling power at the very limits of human endurance for days on end.
Except for Sasori, whose transformation into a human puppet had freed him from many of the limitations of flesh and blood, every member of the organization showed signs of severe strain. Even Hidan, whose immortal body should have been immune to such concerns, found himself struggling against the relentless demands of the sealing process.
"This is taking everything we have," Deidara muttered through gritted teeth, his artistic sensibilities offended by the crude brutality of the extraction process.
His usually immaculate appearance was disheveled, his blonde hair hanging limp with sweat and his clothes stained with the residue of ten days spent channeling toxic levels of chakra. The explosive clay he normally carried had long since been depleted, his body too exhausted to maintain the careful balance needed for his signature techniques.
Kakuzu's multiple hearts were working overtime, pumping blood and chakra through his patchwork body at a pace that would have killed any normal person. The ancient bounty hunter's vast experience with dangerous missions had prepared him for many things, but nothing quite like this sustained assault on his physical and spiritual resources.
When the golem finally absorbed the last traces of Han's chakra, swallowing the Five-Tails' essence in one massive gulp, it seemed to emit a low sound of satisfaction that reverberated through the cavern like distant thunder. The noise was deeply unsettling, carrying with it the suggestion of intelligence and hunger that went far beyond mere animal instinct.
The giant dragon that had been hanging from the statue's mouth, its ethereal form serving as a conduit for the massive transfer of energy, gradually began to dissipate. The creature's translucent body became more and more transparent until it finally faded away entirely, leaving only the memory of its terrible purpose.
"Hurry up and adjust your chakra," Nagato commanded, his voice carrying the authority of absolute leadership despite the obvious strain he was under.
He settled into a meditation position, closing his eyes and beginning the careful process of restoring his depleted energy reserves. The Rinnegan's power came at a tremendous cost, and maintaining the extraction process for ten consecutive days had pushed even his legendary endurance to its breaking point.
"It's really exhausting," Hidan mumbled, his usual boisterous personality subdued by the overwhelming fatigue that had settled over him like a suffocating blanket.
The immortal cultist reached into his equipment pouch and retrieved a soldier pill, the concentrated nutrients providing a small boost to his flagging energy levels. The bitter taste was almost welcome—a reminder that he was still alive, still capable of sensation despite the numbing exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him.
The same pattern was repeated throughout the organization, each member taking whatever measures they could to restore their strength for the final phase of the extraction. Only Sasori remained unaffected, his puppet body requiring neither rest nor sustenance in the conventional sense.
The artificial nature of his existence, which had once seemed like a limitation, now proved to be a significant advantage. While his human companions struggled with the basic needs of flesh and blood, he remained at peak efficiency, ready to continue the process whenever Nagato gave the command.
The entire cavern fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the sound of labored breathing and the occasional shift of stone as the mountain itself seemed to settle under the weight of the power that had been unleashed within its depths.
Time passed with agonizing slowness in the depths of the cavern, each minute stretching into an eternity of anticipation and dread. The members of the Akatsuki used every technique at their disposal to restore their strength—meditation, breathing exercises, supplemental pills, and in some cases, forbidden techniques that traded future health for immediate vitality.
As the hours crawled by, the atmosphere in the cavern grew increasingly tense. Everyone present understood that they were approaching the culmination of years of planning and preparation. The final extraction would determine whether their grand design succeeded or failed catastrophically, taking them all down in the process.
During this period of forced rest, each member of the organization dealt with their exhaustion in their own way. Some meditated in silence, others muttered prayers to whatever dark gods they served, and a few simply stared into the shadows while their minds processed the magnitude of what they were attempting.
The weight of their actions pressed down on them like a physical force. They had already crossed lines that could never be uncrossed, committed acts that would forever mark them as enemies of all that was good and decent in the world. But there was no turning back now—they could only move forward toward whatever destiny awaited them.
"Damn it, I can't even move my body, you idiot bastards!"
The voice that echoed through the cavern carried a defiance that ten days of captivity had failed to break. Killer Bee, the Eight-Tails' jinchūriki and one of Kumogakure's most powerful warriors, remained unbroken despite the special seals that bound him and the black receivers that pierced his flesh like poisonous thorns.
His dark skin glistened with sweat and blood, testament to the constant pain he had endured while watching his fellow jinchūriki die one by one. The sunglasses that were his trademark lay shattered nearby, but his eyes burned with undiminished fury and determination.
The seals that covered his body were works of art in their own right, complex patterns of chakra suppression that would have been impossible for any normal fuinjutsu master to create. They pressed against his skin like living things, constantly adapting and adjusting to counter any attempt at resistance or escape.
The black receivers that had been driven into his body at precise points were connected to Nagato's power, serving as both anchors and drains that prevented him from accessing the full might of the Eight-Tails. Each one was a masterwork of pain and control, designed to cause maximum suffering while maintaining perfect restraint.
Bee's face was a mask of grim determination mixed with righteous anger. He had witnessed the deaths of three jinchūriki, had heard their final screams and felt their life forces fade into nothingness. He knew with crystal clarity that his fate would be the same unless something changed dramatically in the next few minutes.
"Ha! Even tied up like this, you're still talking big!" one of the Akatsuki members called out, but there was a note of respect in the taunt.
Killer Bee's reputation was well-earned. Even the most hardened criminals in the organization had to acknowledge the incredible will and strength that allowed him to maintain his defiance in the face of certain death.
Just as Killer Bee was formulating another creative insult to hurl at his captors, the members of the Akatsuki began to stir on the golem's fingers. One by one, they opened their eyes and resumed their positions, their chakra levels restored enough to attempt the final extraction.
"Let's get started. This is the last one," Nagato announced, his voice carrying the weight of ultimate authority.
His purple eyes, ringed with the pattern of the Rinnegan, fixed on Killer Bee with an expression that mixed anticipation with cold calculation. Soon, very soon, he would become the jinchūriki of the golem and five tailed beasts, wielding power that would make him the equal of any force in the ninja world.
The hunger in his gaze was almost palpable, a burning need that had consumed him completely. All thoughts of peace through pain, of noble goals and righteous suffering, had been burned away by the cancer of obsession. Now only the need for power remained, the desperate hunger to prove himself against the one man who had humiliated him.
Enough power to defeat that man!
"What an impatient guy," Deidara observed, curling his lips in a mixture of amusement and exhaustion.
Despite his casual comment, his hands were already moving through the familiar sequence of seals, muscle memory taking over where conscious thought had become too difficult. The extraction process had become as natural as breathing, each gesture flowing into the next with practiced precision.
The other members followed suit, their movements synchronized despite their individual exhaustion. This was the moment they had all been working toward, the culmination of everything they had sacrificed in service of their twisted vision of justice.
ROAR!
The Gedo Mazo's massive mouth opened once again, revealing the void within that seemed to hunger for more than just chakra—it seemed to hunger for the very essence of life itself. The giant dragon emerged from the depths of that abyss, its ethereal form more solid and more terrifying than ever before.
The creature's body pulsed with accumulated power, fed by the essence of four tailed beasts and grown strong on suffering and death. Its eyes were points of brilliant malevolence, ancient beyond human comprehension and utterly without mercy or compassion.
The dragon descended like a falling star, its trajectory perfectly calculated to engulf Killer Bee's form. Konan's origami papers lifted the jinchūriki into the optimal position, her white creations moving with the grace of falling snow despite the terrible purpose they served.
The moment the Phantom Dragon made contact with Killer Bee's body, the extraction began with a violence that dwarfed all previous attempts. The Eight-Tails' chakra was vast beyond imagination, accumulated over centuries of existence and refined through decades of perfect synchronization with its human host.
The massive amount of substantial chakra that surrounded Killer Bee was immediately seized by the golem's irresistible suction force. But this was no ordinary tailed beast—the Eight-Tails was one of the most powerful entities in existence, its strength rivaled only by the Nine-Tails itself.
As the extraction process intensified, the very air around Killer Bee began to shimmer and distort. The Eight-Tails' chakra was so dense, so concentrated, that it took on physical properties that defied normal understanding. What should have been invisible energy became visible as streams of dark power that writhed and twisted like living serpents.
Gradually, as more and more chakra was drawn from Killer Bee's body, something extraordinary began to manifest in the space above him. The extracted energy didn't simply flow into the golem's mouth—instead, it began to coalesce into a form that made everyone present step back in instinctive fear.
The phantom that emerged was unlike anything they had seen before. It wasn't merely a shadow or echo of the tailed beast—it was the Eight-Tails itself, manifesting in all its terrible glory despite the extraction process that should have prevented such a thing.
The creature's upper body resembled that of a massive bull, its horns gleaming with inner fire and its eyes burning with ancient rage. But its lower body was that of an octopus, eight enormous tentacles writhing and lashing with enough force to shatter stone and steel. Each tentacle was thicker than a tree trunk and covered with suckers that pulsed with their own internal light.
This isn't a phantom!
"As expected of the Eight-Tails," Nagato commented, his voice carrying grudging respect for the beast's incredible power.
His purple eyes showed no emotional fluctuation despite the unprecedented nature of what was occurring. If anything, the Eight-Tails' resistance only served to fuel his determination. The hand seals he was forming began to change, adapting to counter the beast's defiance.
Buzz!
The light emanating from the giant dragon in the golem's mouth began to concentrate and intensify, compressing into a focused beam of extraction force that was far more powerful than anything used in the previous extractions. The suction that burst forth was beyond anything they had experienced—it was like the pull of a black hole, irresistible and absolute.
The Eight-Tails roared in pain and fury as the chakra it had gathered to resist the golem's pull was forcibly torn away and drawn into the waiting maw. But even as its power was being stolen, the beast continued to fight with every fiber of its being.
The battle between the Eight-Tails and the Gedo Mazo was a clash of titans that shook the very foundations of the mountain. Each moment of resistance sent tremors through the stone, and the sound of their struggle was like the roar of a hurricane contained within the confines of the cavern.
After absorbing the chakra of four tailed beasts in succession, the power of the golem had been greatly restored. It was no longer the weakened husk that had begun the extraction process—it was becoming something closer to its original, terrifying nature.
"Bee, it looks like we really have to say goodbye this time," the Eight-Tails said, its mental voice carrying a sadness that cut through Killer Bee's consciousness like a blade.
For decades, the two had been partners in the truest sense of the word. Unlike most jinchūriki, who struggled against their tailed beasts or lived in uneasy coexistence, Bee and the Eight-Tails had achieved perfect harmony. They were friends, allies, and family all at once.
"Gyuki..." Killer Bee whispered, his voice barely audible beneath his dark sunglasses.
Even now, facing death itself, he refused to let his emotions show openly. But the Eight-Tails could feel the pain in his heart, the grief of losing not just his life but his oldest and dearest friend.
Whoosh!
The extraction continued relentlessly, the Eight-Tails' chakra being pulled into the golem in a steady stream that grew stronger with each passing moment. For more than thirty hours, the process had continued without pause, the statue's appetite seeming to grow with each taste of the beast's power.
Finally, with the golem's absorption speed having nearly doubled from its enhanced power, the chakra of the Eight-Tails in Killer Bee's body was almost completely exhausted. The jinchūriki was moments away from losing his tailed beast entirely, and his consciousness was beginning to fade into the darkness that preceded death.
At this critical moment, when all seemed lost and death was reaching out with skeletal fingers to claim another victim, the Eight-Tails made its final decision.
"Bee, this is the last thing I can do for you," the beast said, its mental voice filled with the weight of absolute determination.
ROAR!
The sound that erupted from Killer Bee's body was unlike anything that had been heard in the cavern before. It was the Eight-Tails' death cry, its final defiant roar in the face of extinction, but it was also something more. It was the sound of love—the love of a creature willing to sacrifice everything for the human who had shown it friendship when the rest of the world offered only fear and hatred.
"It actually has such strong power remaining!" several members of the Akatsuki exclaimed in unison, their voices carrying genuine amazement.
Inside Killer Bee's body, the Eight-Tails was gathering every remaining trace of its chakra, compressing it into a concentrated burst of pure power. The light that emanated from this final effort was blinding, illuminating the cavern with radiance that seemed to banish shadows that had existed since the mountain's birth.
In that brilliant flash, a crack appeared on the body of the extraction dragon that towered above them. The damage was minor but significant—proof that even at the end, even facing certain death, the Eight-Tails possessed enough strength to wound the ancient mechanism that was destroying it.
"It saves a lot of trouble," Nagato observed, his voice carrying cold satisfaction rather than concern.
He had immediately understood the Eight-Tails' true purpose. The beast wasn't trying to break free from the extraction or damage the golem significantly. It was using its final burst of strength as a distraction, a way to hide something that Nagato's Rinnegan might otherwise have detected.
The seal formations in Nagato's hands began to change once again, adapting to counter this new development. His technique was a masterwork of adaptation and control, capable of adjusting to virtually any resistance the tailed beasts might offer.
ROAR!
The Gedo Mazo responded to its master's command with a sound that seemed to come from the depths of the earth itself. The extraction dragon opened its mouth impossibly wide and sucked with force that seemed to bend reality around it.
At that moment, there was a faint sound that might have been a dragon's roar—or perhaps it was the Eight-Tails' final cry of defiance. All the light surrounding Killer Bee's body was drawn into the dragon's maw in a single, devastating gulp.
The dragon coiled its serpentine body and retreated into the golem's mouth, carrying with it the accumulated power of five tailed beasts. The statue swallowed this final offering with an expression that might have been satisfaction on its ancient features.
The vibration that followed seemed to shake the very foundations of the world. The Gedo Mazo was no longer an empty husk—it was something approaching its original, terrible power.
"It's finally over!" Deidara exclaimed, his voice carrying the relief of a man who had just survived the impossible.
The other members of the Akatsuki shared his sentiment, their faces showing the exhaustion and satisfaction of a job completed beyond all reasonable expectations. Sealing the Eight-Tails had indeed been much more laborious than sealing the other tailed beasts, but they had succeeded where others would have failed.
"No," Nagato said quietly, his voice cutting through their celebrations like a knife through silk.
His eyes, which had originally assumed that the seal was complete, now narrowed as his gaze fell on Killer Bee's motionless form. The jinchūriki had collapsed to the cavern floor, his body looking more dead than alive, but something about him had caught the Rinnegan's attention.
"Did you do that on purpose to protect the jinchūriki?" Nagato asked, though he already knew the answer.
His legendary eyes had detected what the Eight-Tails had tried so desperately to hide. There was still a faint trace of the beast's chakra remaining in Killer Bee's body—not enough to grant power or consciousness, but just enough to maintain the tiny spark of life that separated the living from the dead.
The final resistance had been a deception of the highest order. The Eight-Tails had deliberately used all its remaining strength in a display of futile defiance, drawing attention away from the tiny portion of its essence that it was hiding deep within its host's body.
As long as even the smallest trace of a tailed beast's chakra remained within a jinchūriki, that person would not die completely. They would exist in a state between life and death, their body maintaining its most basic functions while their consciousness faded into darkness.
As a jinchūriki who could perfectly control the power of the Eight-Tails, Killer Bee possessed an unusually strong constitution and an incredible will to live. Even in his current state, with his life hanging by the thinnest of threads, he was still fighting for survival.
"It's a pointless practice," Nagato declared, though his voice carried a note of grudging respect for the Eight-Tails' final sacrifice.
He was genuinely impressed by the lengths to which the beast had gone to protect its human partner. The planning, the timing, the sheer force of will required to pull off such a deception while facing extinction—it spoke to a bond between jinchūriki and tailed beast that transcended normal understanding.
But impressive or not, it would not be allowed to stand. Nagato's hands came together in preparation for another sealing technique, this one designed to extract even the smallest traces of tailed beast chakra from a host's body.
ROAR!
However, when he attempted to cast the extraction seal, something went terribly wrong. The Gedo Mazo did not respond to his commands as it had before. Instead, it let out a growl of pain and covered its massive hands with gestures that spoke of agony and loss of control.
Swish!
The members of the Akatsuki organization reacted with the lightning reflexes of experienced killers, immediately abandoning their positions on the golem's fingers and retreating to safe distances. They had all felt the change in the statue's chakra, the sudden shift from controlled hunger to chaotic rage.
Nagato himself appeared in front of the golem in a burst of speed that left afterimages in the air. His hands moved through sealing techniques with desperate urgency, trying to regain control over the ancient construct before it could destroy everything they had worked to achieve.
His expression, usually a mask of cold control, suddenly turned dark with understanding and fury.
"Damn it," he snarled, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had just realized that victory might be snatched away at the last possible moment.
"The tailed beasts' chakra is running wild!"