"Begin!"
At Obito's command, Black Zetsu nodded and formed a hand seal. Around them, the White Zetsu operating the devices also pressed their palms together, activating the instruments.
The unique rhythm of chakra spread across the formation. Zetsu slammed both hands onto the cliff's surface and gave a low shout:
"Open!"
Buzz!!
The moment the ritual was triggered, the seals carved into the ground flared with dazzling light. Surging chakra whipped up violent winds, blasting into the heavens and stirring the tides of the vast ocean beneath them into thunderous roars.
Endless natural energy was drawn from the raging sea by the specialized chakra array. The density of it was so overwhelming that the very air on the altar seemed to grow viscous, heavy.
Obito no longer hesitated. His Kamui dimension twisted, and the specially prepared Chimera Buds he had readied burst forth.
His version differed from Hiruko's.
Hiruko's buds were pale violet, but Obito's were stark white, with a faint bluish hue.
The so-called Chimera Buds were in essence the bonding agent of the Chimera Technique Ritual—a medium that allowed one to fuse the power of kekkei genkai into the body and achieve self-transcendence.
Hiruko's buds had been crafted from natural materials mixed with biotechnological refinement—already an apex material of its age. But Obito had gone further, using Hiruko's research as a foundation while incorporating his own experimental data. His custom Chimera Buds were far stronger.
The key lay in the White Zetsu cells.
Their gentle nature and near-universal adaptability made them the perfect fusion medium. By infusing them into the buds, Obito elevated their strength yet again.
"Come forth!"
As countless buds poured from Kamui's dimension, Obito clapped his hands together. The writhing mass split into five, surging forward like Majin Buu's amorphous extensions, latching tightly onto the five chosen targets.
The Chimera Buds pulsed and writhed, draining chakra. Within moments, the genjutsu binding those shinobi shattered—but before they could react or resist, the buds had engulfed them completely.
Obito's eyes narrowed. Under his control, the five cocooned masses convulsed briefly, then were drawn back into him, clinging to his body and merging with his flesh.
From afar, Black Zetsu's expression shifted into satisfaction.
Obito's ritual was proceeding far more steadily, far more rapidly, than Hiruko's ever had. It wasn't merely the superiority of the Chimera Buds themselves—Obito's foundation was incomparably greater.
Hiruko's roots were weak. At his core he was nothing more than an ordinary jōnin, lacking the blood of Hagoromo's line. Obito was different.
Infused with White Zetsu cells, wielder of the Mangekyō Sharingan—within the shinobi world, Obito was among the elite of the elite.
But this was no time to rejoice. The Chimera Technique Ritual had only just begun. What came next would be the true ordeal:
The fusion of bloodlines.
On the altar, Obito urged the five kekkei genkai-bearing shinobi, now devoured by the Chimera Buds, to return into his body. The bluish-white mass clung to his form, then sank into him completely.
In an instant, Obito's body swelled to several times its size, mutating into a grotesque, unevenly pitted and bloated sphere of bluish flesh.
"Condense!!"
The agony of bloodline fusion surged through Obito's body, making his teeth clench as he let out a guttural roar. Without reservation, he unleashed the entirety of his chakra, forcing the Chimera Buds to integrate with him.
In an instant, a vast surge of chakra burst forth—so dense it could be seen with the naked eye. As it erupted, the jagged masses of Chimera Buds across his body began to writhe violently, accelerating their fusion into him.
This chakra was immense. Though it could not yet match Nagato, who had essentially gained a Sage's physique, it faintly touched the level of a true Jinchūriki.
But it still wasn't enough.
As Obito pushed himself to his limits, Black Zetsu simultaneously activated the chakra devices at full power. Natural energy from the raging sea was siphoned without pause, while dark chakra and chakra crystals were channeled together, all flooding into Obito's body.
The force was so overwhelming that the clear skies above dimmed into storm. Thunder boomed, clouds blackened, and lightning tore across the heavens.
At the center of the altar, Obito's fusion accelerated under this torrent of power. A strange aura began to radiate from him—vast, unknowable.
It was the taste of Shinra Banshō—the power of all creation itself.
The first step toward transcending mortality… toward ascension into a higher lifeform.
"Obito. Focus that Shinra Banshō into your eyes," Black Zetsu's voice cut sharply across the storm, halting Obito as he prepared to accelerate further.
At once, the overwhelming aura blanketing his body receded, instead funneling toward his eyes. A chilling, sinister energy spread from his gaze.
Black Zetsu's words weren't meant to halt the ritual—they were a reminder.
Though both of Obito's eyes were Mangekyō Sharingan, one of them was not his own. It had been taken from Uchiha Itachi's corpse.
Obito's body, strengthened by Hashirama cells and his natural compatibility, had nearly perfected its adaptation to this eye. But in the end, what wasn't his could never truly be his.
It was like with Kakashi. Obito had given him a Sharingan, yet even then, the chakra origin of that eye still belonged to Obito. That was why, after Minato slew Rin before Obito's eyes, his grief had awakened the Mangekyō—and Kakashi's eye had awakened in tandem.
Because the root chakra of both Sharingan had always been Uchiha Obito's.
This new Mangekyō was no different.
The Chimera Technique Ritual was about gathering all power into oneself—fusing bloodlines, refining chakra, and transcending the limits of shinobi to become an ultimate existence. But before absorbing other bloodlines, Obito first had to stabilize his foundation.
The White Zetsu cells had long since perfectly harmonized with his body. But this eye—this Mangekyō taken from Itachi—remained an alien element.
If he were to complete his evolution while one eye still carried another's essence, who knew what kind of strange, uncontrollable mutation might emerge?
A low hum rang out.
Understanding this, Obito focused the Shinra Banshō into his right eye. The great pinwheel of the Mangekyō spun violently under the torrent of chakra.
Blood seeped from his eyelids in crimson streams as the scarlet eye twisted further, spinning until its tomoe blurred into a ring of inky black.
"By doing this… will he truly make that Mangekyō his own?" White Zetsu asked with curiosity.
"The Sharingan's origin is always one," Black Zetsu explained darkly. "Though Obito's right eye once belonged to Uchiha Itachi, if he uses the power of all creation to erase Itachi's lingering essence, the eye will become ownerless. And in that moment… it will be Obito's Eternal Eye."
Black Zetsu spoke as he observed, carefully sensing the changes within Obito's chakra.
Just as a Shinigami's essence and strength derived from spiritual energy, all of a shinobi's foundation came from chakra. At Black Zetsu's level, reading chakra's fluctuations was far more precise than any sensory technique.
As expected—when Obito channeled the Shinra Banshō's power, the residual "information" of Uchiha Itachi within that Mangekyō began to be erased. What remained was the simple need to inscribe a new "imprint," after which the eye would fully belong to a new master.
And the way to imprint it…
"The Shinra Banshō will guide Obito's evolution step by step—and his eyes will undergo transformation as well," Black Zetsu murmured.
As blood tears streamed from Obito's right eye, his left—his original Kamui Mangekyō—began to spin violently in resonance.
Both eyes turned, faster and faster, until they blurred into whirling rings of pure black. The aura leaking from his sockets grew more chilling, more oppressive, until finally, at a singular point, the rotation ceased.
What appeared now were no longer the distinct Mangekyō patterns of Obito and Itachi. The great windmill and shuriken motifs had fused, their forms merging into one.
The new design's three blades were sharper than ever, layered with an additional triple edge within, as if two Mangekyō had united into a single entity.
The Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
Under the power of Shinra Banshō, Obito's Mangekyō had transcended, erasing Itachi's mark completely. From this moment, the eyes were his, branded by his essence—entirely Obito's possession.
But with this ocular evolution came the next phase of the ritual.
The massive bluish-white sphere that had been his mutated form compressed back into humanoid size. Yet across its surface, warped visages began to emerge—faces twisted and grotesque, expressions ranging from terror, to fury, to blank lifelessness.
"Come forth! Come forth! None shall stop me from reaching the summit!"
Obito's voice rang with madness, his expression fevered—until suddenly, his fierce determination froze. His face slackened into a vacant stupor. His eyes dulled, empty.
The soul conflict had begun.
"Now… let me see how unbreakable your will truly is, Obito…" Black Zetsu whispered coldly.
Unlike Nagato, they possessed no Rinnegan—no weapon specialized in suppressing souls. Though Black Zetsu himself wielded fragments of the Six Paths' power and could intervene, he would not. To reveal such strength would risk exposure.
Besides, soul conflict was itself a necessary trial of the ritual. Only by seizing dominance in this inner battlefield could one truly complete the ascension. If aided by outside force, the result would always be lesser.
Obito's gaze swam with confusion. His control over his chakra wavered.
Sensing this weakness, the Chimera Buds—nearly stabilized within him—seized their chance. They writhed violently, rebelling. The humanoid form collapsed, swelling once again into the grotesque bluish-white sphere.
Yet the White Zetsu around the altar did not panic. They had anticipated this.
As Obito's body ballooned, the Zetsu began forming seals. Dozens worked in unison, suppressing the rampaging Chimera Buds. Under their combined pressure, the violent expansion slowed, stabilizing at a massive, monstrous size instead of reverting fully.
The Chimera Buds contained vast quantities of White Zetsu cells—so naturally, the Zetsu could restrain them to some extent. But only to a point.
To succeed, Obito would need to reassert his own will.
And in this moment, he did not look like the confident, unstoppable figure he had proclaimed himself to be. His body convulsed violently. Veins bulged grotesquely across the faces that marred his form, and foaming saliva dripped from his slack mouth.
"…Is he collapsing?"
A faint trace of disappointment flickered in Black Zetsu's eyes, though it was hardly unexpected.
Such was the nature of soul battles. Without chakra's interference, both sides stood on equal ground—except for rare anomalies like Yuki Yoru, whose mastery over souls bordered on the absurd. For Obito, initiating this ritual meant facing five souls at once. His odds of victory were pitifully slim.
"To have come this far, I can't allow you to fall apart here…" Black Zetsu murmured inwardly, already preparing to intervene.
But at that very instant, Obito's trembling, collapsing body suddenly vanished like a mirage—dispersing as though it had been nothing but a bubble.
Moments later, his figure reappeared. His breath was ragged, his forehead beaded with cold sweat. His form remained swollen and monstrous, yet Black Zetsu noticed that the five twisted faces embedded in his flesh had already begun to blur and fade.
"…Interesting."
The corners of Black Zetsu's mouth curved upward. The power he had been gathering ebbed away once more.
This foolish boy who once helped old ladies cross the street had not disappointed him after all. Against the crushing weight of five souls, Obito had forced reality itself to bend, activating Izanagi—saving himself from the abyss.
Izanagi: the technique that rewrites fate, turning every disadvantage—including death itself—into illusion. Though the soul was intangible, even its battlefield could be distorted under Izanagi's law.
For this ritual, Obito had gone so far as to sacrifice nearly half the Uchiha clan to replenish his stock of Sharingan. White Zetsu had long since implanted several of those eyes into his body. Now, they revealed their true worth.
"Rin… Kakashi…"
"I will not fall here. I will never fall!"
From the bloated mass of his flesh, Obito roared his defiance. With his monstrous visage twisted into a grimace of determination, he once more plunged into the battlefield of his own soul.
The stalled ritual lurched back into motion. Torrents of surrounding chakra surged into him again, fueling the violent clash of wills within and driving his body toward ultimate evolution.
...
Meanwhile…
In the distant Land of Snow.
Amid an endless world of white, a silver-clad wilderness, Jigen stood in monk's robes, his expression calm as he gazed upon the open ground before him.
The storm of chakra churned through the blizzard. Within it, two silhouettes swelled endlessly under the force of the Chimera Buds, their presence raging, oppressive—threatening to shake the heavens themselves.