Years had slipped by since Obito Uchiha and his two followers took down Ōtsutsuki Rokushiki and wiped out the probe squad that came after them.
For normal folk across the stars, that gap was long enough for whole countries to rise and crumble.
For the Ōtsutsuki? Barely a blink.
But right now, even that aloof clan felt something… different.
Way beyond any mortal world lies a blank-white dimension, a place where color itself looks bleached out. Jagged rivers the color of fresh blood cut through the land, pulsing like open veins.
Today, that eerie plain was packed.
Dozens of Ōtsutsuki stood in neat rows, robes fluttering in wind that didn't exist. Every one of them had crossed worlds, ripped up civilizations, and sneered at lesser lives. Even the weakest radiated the calm pride of a thousand-year predator.
Yet beneath the usual arrogance lurked a restless mix of anticipation, wariness—maybe even envy.
Something big was about to start, and not one of them wanted to blink and miss it.
"Looks like the ceremony's finally kicking off today."
An Ōtsutsuki murmured the words, voice low enough to ride the hush that blanketed the crowd.
"I figured we'd be waiting another couple thousand years."
"He was marked from birth," a second replied, calm as still water. "This was always a matter of time."
"A matter of time?" a third scoffed, a faint sneer tugging at his lips. "Do you have any idea how many worlds he flayed bare to get this far?"
"Does that even matter?"
The first speaker met that sneer with a flat, unblinking gaze.
"The reason he was permitted to do this, and the reason he was granted so many worlds, was simple: he had been born special. He possessed the potential to ascend to godhood."
Ascend.
That single word was enough to capture the dream of nearly everyone gathered here, though only a rare few could ever hope to reach it.
For the Ōtsutsuki, consuming chakra fruits and evolving was simply the natural order. They were born to harvest, born to devour, born to rise above lesser worlds and rule over them like gods.
But even among the Ōtsutsuki, true godhood was something else entirely.
It was not just a matter of strength. It was a transformation of existence itself.
To reach that level meant stepping beyond the limits of ordinary life. Flesh, chakra, bloodline, even the physical body—all of it would become secondary.
A being who reached that realm would no longer be just another member of the clan.
He would become something everyone else had no choice but to look up to.
A god.
And today, one Ōtsutsuki stood at the edge of that impossible step.
"Do you think he'll succeed?"
"Who knows?"
"If he fails, everything he has gathered will return to the clan."
At those words, a subtle shift passed through several eyes.
Greed moved through the crowd like a hidden flame.
For most beings, failure meant death.
For the Ōtsutsuki, it also meant opportunity.
A failed ascension would leave behind an unimaginable amount of power. Even a fragment of it could be enough to change the standing of whoever managed to claim it.
After all, during ascension, if the vessel could not withstand the Kāma data required for the final step, it could overload. And if that happened, death was a real possibility.
That was why so many had gathered here.
Some had come to witness history while some had come to offer loyalty and others... driven by greed, had come hoping that the one attempting to ascend would collapse at the very final step.
In one corner of the gathering, an elderly Ōtsutsuki with long horns looked toward the distant center and spoke in a low voice.
"Do not let greed blind you. If he succeeds, those thoughts alone may become your crime."
The younger Ōtsutsuki beside him stiffened. Anger flashed in his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut.
Suddenly, a tear opened in space.
Everyone's attention shifted as a man stepped out from the parted void.
His hair was pure white, falling around his shoulders. His skin was pale, yet black markings spread across it, winding over his arms, neck, chest, and face like ritual patterns carved into living flesh.
If anyone from the Akatsuki had seen him, their first thought would have been Hidan.
Not because their faces were identical, but because the black markings across his body carried the same unsettling aura of fanaticism, blood, and sacrifice.
As he walked forward, two figures within the crowd watched his back from different directions.
One stood near the left side of the gathering, half-hidden among a group of silent Ōtsutsuki. His face was pale, his posture relaxed, and his expression held the same cold indifference as everyone else around him.
The other stood much farther away, near one of the rivers of blood. A white veil hung lightly before his face, hiding most of his expression.
What no one present knew was that, at that very moment, a hidden conversation was taking place beyond their awareness.
And as the Ōtsutsuki named Fujishiki prepared to visit the final world he would devour before attempting his ascension, that conversation reached its most important point.
"Captain," White Zetsu's voice sounded through the hidden connection, cold and steady. "We've confirmed everything."
In another dimension, Obito sat alone within a dark space where countless black particles drifted around him like ash.
"Everything?"
"Yes."
White Zetsu's gaze never left Fujishiki's back.
"His identity, his rank, the world he's about to devour, and the reason this ceremony is being held here—we confirmed all of it. There's no mistake."
His voice lowered slightly.
"Fujishiki Ōtsutsuki is one of the chosen successors under Jashin Ōtsutsuki."
Tobi clicked his tongue under his mask.
"And his ability is every bit as annoying as the records said. Actually, after seeing it in person, I'd say the records were being generous."
Obito did not respond immediately.
Under his orders, they had changed identities several times over the years.
Guards, servants, minor clan members—they had killed, replaced, observed, and erased every trace of themselves again and again.
This was the closest they had ever managed to get.
Any closer, and even the slightest mistake could expose them.
Obito raised a hand and lightly tapped his forehead with one finger.
"So it really was Jashin."
Jashin Ōtsutsuki.
One of the four main gods who stood at the peak of the Ōtsutsuki Clan.
When Obito first discovered that name hidden within the data he had stolen from the clan, he had been surprised, but not completely shocked.
Not after everything he had already learned.
The so-called gods of the shinobi world had always left strange shadows behind. Jashin, the Shinigami, the legends of forbidden rituals, the names whispered by cults and madmen—many of them seemed separate at first glance, but the deeper Obito dug, the more he found traces leading beyond the ninja world.
As though those distant beings had brushed against that world again and again, leaving behind scraps of their existence like stains that could never be washed away.
Hidan had once worshiped Jashin as a god.
Now, it seemed that worship had not been entirely meaningless.
The fool simply never understood what kind of existence he had been praying to.
Obito's eyes narrowed.
"Fujishiki's ability," he said. "Tell me everything. And don't leave out a single detail."
White Zetsu answered without the slightest hesitation.
"Understood, Captain."
Obito stood in silence, feeling the strange feedback ripple through him. His eyes slowly closed.
And when they opened again…
A cold, dreadful light flickered deep within them.
So that was why White Zetsu and Tobi had spoken so highly of that ability. Anyone who faced it without understanding what it truly was… would be dragged straight into hell.
Obito's gaze sharpened.
The plan he had been preparing was finally ready to be set in motion.
When he spoke again, his voice was low.
But the command behind it was absolute.
"Erase everyone here."
Neither White Zetsu nor Tobi reacted. They had both known this moment was coming. They simply remained still, waiting for the rest of Obito's orders.
Obito's eyes narrowed.
"You may force Fujishiki to reveal his hand, but once he stops playing around, do not hesitate—pull back immediately. From that point on, he is mine."
He understood the danger better than anyone. If White Zetsu or Tobi rushed into battle against Fujishiki without caution, everything could fall apart in an instant.
Against ordinary Ōtsutsuki, their current power was more than enough.
But Fujishiki…
Fujishiki was different.
White Zetsu's expression remained unchanged.
"Understood."
Beneath the veil, Tobi slowly lifted his head.
"Hehehe… finally."
A second later, the white world shifted.
Without warning, Tobi disappeared from beside the river of blood.
The closest Ōtsutsuki didn't even have time to turn his head.
A single, razor-thin line flashed across his body.
Then his upper half slid cleanly away from his lower half, blood splattering across the pure white ground.
And in that same instant
Several more Ōtsutsuki were sliced apart from different directions.
Tobi's Sure Hit had locked onto them the moment he moved.
Over the years, his ability had evolved far beyond what it was when Obito first granted it to him. Now, even his most ordinary slashes could tear through space itself.
Several Ōtsutsuki tried to escape through spatial portals.
But it was useless.
The slashes chased them through the cracks in space, cutting through their bodies before the portals could even close.
Screams erupted from every direction.
"What just happened?!"
"Enemy attack!"
"Who dares—!"
Before the last word could leave his mouth, another thin line flashed across the speaker's throat.
His head flew into the air.
On the other side, White Zetsu still stood exactly where he had been from the beginning, hands buried casually in his pockets.
Yet…the Ōtsutsuki who charged toward him were the ones falling.
One appeared behind him, his palm glowing with condensed chakra.
But before the strike could reach White Zetsu's back, the attacker's chest suddenly caved inward, as if an invisible force had smashed straight through him.
Another Ōtsutsuki thrust a black rod toward him.
But in the next moment, that same Ōtsutsuki was the one pierced instead.
He collapsed, clutching his throat as life drained from his body.
Panic spread across the battlefield.
"What kind of ability is this?!"
The surrounding Ōtsutsuki quickly realized something was wrong.
Their eyes widened.
"Don't attack him directly!"
"Keep your distance! Use long-range techniques!"
Several of them immediately changed tactics.
Some tore open spatial portals. Others unleashed space-cutting techniques, mental attacks, chakra blasts, and physical strikes from every direction.
But no matter what they used…
The result was the same.
The ones who were injured were still themselves.
None of their attacks worked.
Everything they sent toward White Zetsu was reflected back upon them as if the laws of battle themselves had turned against them.
But that was only the beginning.
Tobi suddenly reached into his dimension and pulled out a black box.
The moment he activated his ability, the box vanished.
Then...
One after another, figures appeared across the battlefield.
Black cloaks.
White masks.
Cold, silent killing intent.
There were hundreds of them.
Over the years, Obito had secretly created them using the data of the strongest Ōtsutsuki he had ever encountered, shaping them into a special combat unit.
With Tobi and White Zetsu already tearing through the enemy ranks, the sudden arrival of this force shattered what little order the Ōtsutsuki had left.
Many of them tried to escape using space-time techniques.
But the moment they attempted to open a portal, their faces changed.
Space had been locked.
There was nowhere to run.
"What?!"
"The space is sealed!"
"Impossible!"
Above the battlefield, Fujishiki Ōtsutsuki remained completely still.
From the beginning until now, he had not moved a single step.
He simply watched everything unfold from above, his cold eyes overlooking the slaughter below.
No one knew what he was thinking.
Before long, the entire white world was stained with blood.
Flames scorched the ground.
Dust filled the air.
Massive wounds stretched across the land, as if entire continents had been ripped apart by force.
The planet itself trembled under the chaos.
It was already standing at the edge of destruction.
White Zetsu looked up at Fujishiki, his expression unreadable.
"You're awfully calm for someone standing in the middle of a massacre."
Fujishiki tilted his head, and as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke in the universe, a soft laugh slipped from his lips before spreading across the place like thunder.
"Calm?" Fujishiki repeated, looking down at them with cold eyes. "You really think I didn't know you rats would crawl out today?"
White Zetsu's eyes narrowed.
But before he could answer, Fujishiki raised one hand and pointed it toward the battlefield.
In that heartbeat...
The remaining fifty members of Obito's unit were crushed in an instant.
Their bodies burst apart, turning into a mass of blood that gathered in the air like a crimson storm. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, it rushed toward Fujishiki.
The blood flowed into his palm but he did not absorb it.
Instead, he stared at it with interest, his smile deepening.
"What a cunning mind."
There was something mixed within the blood.
Fujishiki slowly lifted his gaze back to White Zetsu.
"So it really is you." His voice became colder. "I must admit, I'm surprised. I thought you insects would be scared to show yourselves."
"But no matter."
A devious smile appeared across his face.
"Tell me… how does it feel watching your companions die?"
White Zetsu didn't answer, only glancing silently across the battlefield where even Tobi had been reduced to blood with the others, yet he showed no fear, no shock, and not even anger, because he had already expected this; then his eyes returned to Fujishiki, and he spoke calmly, "Are you sure you succeeded?"
Fujishiki's eyes narrowed.
"Hm?"
White Zetsu's smile slowly appeared.
"Check again."
For the first time, Fujishiki's expression shifted.
"What are you—"
His words stopped mid sentence.
From within the ruined battlefield, a figure stood once more.
Tobi.
But this time, the disguise was gone, revealing his true form beneath it.
Four arms.
A monstrous presence.
And a face twisted into a half-spiral pattern, staring forward with a smile that did not belong to anything human.
White Zetsu also reached up and removed his disguise.
His face appeared beneath it, calm and smiling, as if none of this had ever been a threat.
Fujishiki stared at them for a moment.
Then, slowly, the smile returned to his face.
"Oh… interesting."
There was a trace of genuine amusement in his voice now.
"One of you reflected my attack."
His gaze shifted toward White Zetsu.
"And the other simply came back to life."
Then his eyes moved to Tobi.
A quiet laugh escaped Fujishiki's lips.
"As expected… it really is you."
He raised one hand and slowly covered part of his face, his fingers resting over his eyes.
"You stubborn little flies…"
His smile widened beneath his hand.
"You keep buzzing around the universe, trying to overturn the natural order itself."
"How amusing."
"Dismantle."
The spatial slash struck Fujishiki the instant the word left Tobi's lips, yet it left no trace.
"Hmm… an impressive technique," Fujishiki remarked in an easy tone. Despite the fearsome attack, not a scratch marked him.
"Tch, he's really starting to grate on me," Tobi growled, irritated that his blow had been dismissed so casually.
He and White Zetsu exchanged a brief nod, then surged forward together, launching a coordinated assault on Fujishiki.
Tobi's four arms spreading out at once like the limbs of a demon. The moment he entered Fujishiki's range, his upper right arm snapped forward with a straight punch aimed at the face.
Fujishiki tilted his head.
The fist missed by a hair.
Tobi's lower left arm followed immediately, a sharp body blow driving toward Fujishiki's ribs, while his upper left arm came around in a vicious hook meant to crush his jaw.
Fujishiki stepped in instead of stepping back.
The body blow struck nothing but air.
The hook passed behind his head.
Then Fujishiki raised one knee.
Bang!
Tobi's stomach folded around the strike, his body lifting off the ground for an instant.
White Zetsu appeared at Fujishiki's side at the same time, palm cutting toward his neck. His timing was perfect. The moment Fujishiki's knee landed, White Zetsu attacked from the blind spot, his fingers coated with condensed chakra.
Fujishiki did not even look at him.
His elbow moved.
It struck White Zetsu's wrist from below, knocking the attack off course, then his fingers caught White Zetsu by the face and slammed him downward.
The white ground cracked.
Before White Zetsu's head could fully deform against the surface, Tobi had already recovered.
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