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On the night of the full moon, the entire Shinobi Alliance, eighty thousand strong, stood in formation.
Ranks aligned. Lines unbroken.
Above them, the Five Kage addressed the gathered armies, their words heavy with the weight of the coming war.
After two weeks of coordination and drills, they'd learned how to seal the [Reanimation Army] efficiently and how to expose infiltrators from the White Zetsu Legion.
Every unit had its counter-plans.
Every sensor team had a protocol.
And among those ranks, one soldier stood quietly as a [Phantom Clone] of Neji Hyūga, watching his grand design unfold.
This battle was the stage for the finale he'd orchestrated. When it ended, the wars of the ninja world would finally reach their close.
Well… almost. There was still a certain younger brother on the moon who would need a bit of "moral correction."
But that was for later. For now, this performance had to begin.
---
Meanwhile, the real Neji stood outside the battlefield on a high stone spire.
Below him lay rows upon rows of mummified corpses former legends bound by the [Reanimation Jutsu].
With a flick of his hand and a calm breath, he formed a single seal.
"Release."
The bindings unraveled.
One by one, the dead opened their eyes Akatsuki veterans, former Kage, even lesser lords like Hanzō the Salamander rose again, cloaked in dust and memory.
Neji's mask curved into a faint smile.
"Go," he commanded.
"Show the world its own insignificance. Remind them what war truly means."
The undead surged forward. Chaos followed.
The once-orderly formations of the Alliance dissolved instantly into skirmishes.
The strongest among the resurrected moved like lightning toward designated zones; the weaker trudged behind.
Neji's command was simple: Engage the Alliance. Defeat them if you can. Kill only if necessary.
No slaughter. Only spectacle.
Far away, Kabuto lurked in hiding now under Sasuko's watchful eye, forbidden to tamper or scheme.
---
On the opposite front, Obito Uchiha stood before his own army of one hundred thousand White Zetsu clones.
His order was blunt:
"Capture the Eight-Tails. Break his guard. Bleed the Alliance dry."
And with a distorted grin, he raised his hand. "Move!"
Tens of thousands surged forward like a living tide to hunt Killer Bee, host of the Eight-Tails (and self-proclaimed rap legend).
Reason for target priority: too flashy for his own good.
The moment the three armies clashed, the world fractured into madness.
Reanimated shinobi fought whoever they pleased, ignoring sides.
Obito frowned; this wasn't the precision he'd planned.
Numerically, he held the advantage but quality was another story.
Many "reanimated legends" seemed more interested in acting than annihilating.
Some even accidentally eliminated White Zetsu soldiers mid-scene.
Others let the younger generation "defeat" them for morale points.
The great Edo Tensei army, it turned out, was full of method actors.
Meanwhile, the Alliance's fresh genin and chūnin learned fast sealing one target after another under the guidance of veterans.
Obito's hundred thousand Zetsu were collapsing into chaos, their disguises blown, their tactics crumbling.
He wanted to rage but Black Zetsu's whisper cut through the static:
"Patience. We've found a new collaborator."
---
High above the battlefield, Neji and Izumi hovered on a floating island wrapped in a translucent amber barrier, watching the entire war unfold through dozens of chakra-projection screens.
They pointed and commented like spectators at a play.
"That's the Second Mizukage?" Izumi laughed. "No one even remembers what his ability was!"
Neji chuckled. "It's fine. They're all teaching the next generation to beat them call it 'interactive history.'"
Below, thousands of Naruto clones darted across every front, handing out chakra boosts and morale like candy.
At this point, whether the Alliance won or lost depended almost entirely on how long he could keep channeling power.
If he faltered, the unevenly matched armies would crumble in minutes.
Even with the reanimated soldiers holding back, casualties were inevitable.
And with White Zetsu infiltrators sowing confusion, the field was a mess of betrayals and surprise attacks.
Ambushes, stolen kills, fake orders the perfect recipe for chaos.
Neji watched, impassive. He could only minimize casualties; erasing them completely was impossible.
---
Back in Konoha, deep within the sealed prison, the sound of snapping chains echoed.
Root agents knelt as their leader emerged.
Danzo Shimura, wrapped in fresh bandages, stepped into the light for the first time in years.
The guards above had no idea he was gone his influence still rotted through the village like old roots.
He paused at the gate, squinting into the sun. The warmth on his skin felt foreign, unwelcome.
From the stone wall beside him, Black Zetsu oozed into view.
"Congratulations on your return, Lord Danzo."
"Spare me the courtesy," Danzo hissed, eyes narrowing. "I agreed to this alliance of convenience but you and your master have your own agenda."
Black Zetsu smiled faintly, cursing the old man's paranoia but keeping his tone silk-smooth.
"I trust a visionary like you already knows how the board is set."
Danzo's single eye gleamed. He had been following world events from his cell; nothing surprised him now.
"Are the preparations complete?" he asked.
"Of course," Zetsu replied. "We've only been waiting for you."
"Then let's not waste time."
A disguised White Zetsu stepped from the shadows and led the way.
Danzo's cane tapped once on the stone floor as two Root guards lifted him by the arms and the trio vanished from Konoha.
In a hidden chamber beyond the forests, the ritual began.
Danzo's hands blurred through seals.
[Reanimation Jutsu]!
The sacrificial White Zetsu crumbled, sucked into a waiting coffin that sealed with a heavy thud.
Two more clones carried the coffin away.
Danzo watched them leave, a faint smile curling his lips.
"If this works… they'll get a surprise. After all—he was that man."
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~Support with 200 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter
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