Madara had fought legends and monsters in his lifetime, but never had he felt power like this.
Every clash shook the land itself; his own highest techniques barely kept the pace.
For the first time, he doubted the supremacy of his own godly awakened eyes.
He raised his arm sharply, summoning a field of meteorites from the heavens.
But as they descended, his opponent mirrored the gesture, and a storm of celestial bodies answered from the opposite direction.
The two forces met in midair, in the present time, colliding with such magnitude that the sky ignited and the world below tore apart.
The blast wiped out not only Amegakure but also the surrounding valleys, forests, and villages for dozens of miles this time at least.
The earth cracked open, and what remained of the horizon glowed red with fire.
Madara's gaze narrowed, disbelief flickering behind the calm.
'Another eye technique… one that can also call down the celestial bodies themselves?'
For a man who had believed his Rinnegan to be the pinnacle, the ultimate fusion of Senju and Uchiha, from the Stone Table, the sight was heresy.
Those and that person had some faint traces of the Hyuga, yet far beyond it, carrying a divine pressure that unsettled even him. "What are you?" he muttered under his breath.
Meanwhile, Obito and White Zetsu kept flickering in and out of the Kamui dimension, each time escaping the shockwaves of the ongoing destruction, while looking at how well did Madara's underground Susanoo clones shield the Gedo Statue from all the chaotic energy.
Obito was ready to use his strongest Kamui possible, using both eye powers at the same time, to try and move it away safely if need be, even at the cost of his health and chakra.
Yet, seemingly, both of them understood the importance of it, so they consciously avoided sending too much power that way, and fighting around there, to perhaps avoid damaging it.
Obito's composure cracked; even he couldn't process the scale of what he was seeing. White Zetsu, for once, had no sarcasm left, just silent awe.
Obito clenched his fists, realizing how naïve he had been to think he could ever complete the Eye of the Moon Plan alone.
Compared to Madara, he had always been a shadow; compared to this being, even Madara looked a bit more human.
Even with both eyes restored, Obito still knew the truth now; he could only successfully run, perhaps, not ever fight, beings like them.
Black Zetsu, still attached to Madara's side, shared his astonishment.
Even he, who had seen the power of Kaguya and her sons, in their primes, in their final clash, was somewhat unsettled by this.
Madara's focus sharpened. His sensory perception, enhanced by Hashirama's cells, reached deep into the flow of chakra around his foe.
Then he felt it, a current not of this world.
Something vast, descending from above.
'The Moon…?' The thought struck him instantly.
That chakra was flowing from it, drawn down like a river of divine light into this man's body.
"So that's it," Madara muttered, his lips curling into a grim smile. "You're also being fed by something even greater."
Even with his regeneration and vitality, stolen from Hashirama himself, he could feel the strain of the battle wearing on him.
He knew this couldn't continue forever.
His eyes glowed, and the air around him bent with renewed resolve as he recalled his Susanoo and stepped forward under Black Zetsu's repeated warnings, who was eventually forced to shut up by him.
However, the enemy reciprocated the gesture and soon, somewhere across the shattered wasteland that had once been Amegakure, the two figures finally faced one another on foot.
The wind carried the remnants of dust and heat between them, their steps slow and deliberate, neither rushing the next move.
For the first time, there was no chaos, no blinding light, only silent acknowledgment.
They studied each other with a mutual, unspoken respect born of survival.
Madara's sharp eyes traced every detail of his opponent.
The man stood tall, his frame solid and composed, radiating something akin to the raw vitality of a Senju, and yet his eyes unmistakably reflected the Hyūga's lineage, as if the Byakugan evolved into something far beyond it.
His chakra signature pulsed like a second sun, ancient and unrestrained.
On the other side, Akira studied the much older Uchiha warlord intently.
He knew the name and his legend.
From his years of distant observation and research, he had pieced together fragments of Madara's past: how this man had likely been the first to awaken the Rinnegan and, in doing so, had stolen the Gedo Statue from the Moon.
He had taken what once belonged to Hamura's bloodline and kept it on Earth ever since, while Akira's own clan, bound by hesitation and decline, had never dared to reclaim it.
And now, impossibly, that same thief stood before him, alive again, stronger than ever.
Revived first by the forbidden arts of this world, and then by his Rinnegan itself, a power that blurred the very boundary between life and death.
Akira could sense the difference immediately: this was no hollow Edo body anymore.
Madara's aura pulsed with living vitality, and his appearance was that of a powerful young man. "So, he even conquered death," Akira thought quietly.
For a fleeting moment, he recalled the red-haired teen who had wielded the Rinnegan earlier, the one he had nearly killed before the chaos began. "Where did he go?" the thought passed through his mind. Then realization struck. Those eyes had been Madara's all along, left behind before his death, a fragment of his power planted deliberately for his eventual return.
Then he reasoned that the boy had likely been consumed by his power and destroyed in the chaos that followed.
His full attention returned to Madara. He had underestimated Earth's current generation.
This man was no ordinary mortal.
That strength, that resolve, it was not inferior to his own.
"Very well," he thought. "If the humans of this world have reached this level… then I'll treat this one as a true and worthy opponent."
The silence between them stretched for several heartbeats before Madara finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.
"You're not of this world," Madara said, his tone low and measured. "And not fully human either. Your chakra… It's cold. Ancient. Like something that's been watching us for a very long time."
He took a slow step forward, gaze steady, and lifted a hand toward the sky. "Tell me, are you one of those who dwell above? And why show yourself now, after all this time?"
Akira didn't answer at first. His gaze stayed fixed on Madara's Rinnegan. "And you're the one who dragged the husk of the Ten Tails from where it was sealed."
Madara's expression didn't change. "You know of it, then. So that's what you came for."
"I came to take it back," Akira replied evenly. "It doesn't belong to you, or this world anymore."
Madara's smirk was faint but confident. "Then you'll have to take it from me."
Akira's eyes glowed brighter, the air around him humming with pressure. "I intend to."
For a moment, neither moved. The ruined landscape groaned beneath the weight of their chakra.
Madara finally broke the silence. "Those eyes of yours… they belong to no shinobi clan I know of. They carry the essence of the Hyūga, yet the weight of my own. A strange combination."
"You don't need to understand them," Akira replied calmly. "You only need to survive them next."
Madara's lips curved into a thin, dangerous smile. "Then let's see if they live up to their arrogance."
Akira nodded because he, too, obviously sought to close the distance now, so he came like this.
Both of them knew that in a battle of demigods, proximity meant death, but also victory.
Cyan light flared intensely behind Akira as fragments of his Truth-Seeking Orbs, gray masses of condensed chakra, the last he could summon, took shape and began to spin in a vast, rapid orbit around him, driven by the power of his Tenseigan.
At such close range, his overwhelming energy pressure made evasion nearly impossible.
Each radiated with lethal purity, the condensed essence of all chakra natures fused into one form.
In his hands, they weren't weapons; they were judgment itself.
Guided by the Tenseigan's kinetic control, the orbs accelerated around him in perfect synchronization before darting toward Madara from every direction like a storm of light.
Madara's eyes narrowed as he felt the pressure closing in. "So those are your trump cards…" he murmured.
Their chakra didn't resemble any element he knew, no fire, wind, or lightning, but something higher, refined beyond the five natures themselves.
Even as the orbs converged, Madara's plan was already set. "Perfect," he thought, forming seals in an instant.
A towering Perfect Susanoo erupted around him once more, a giant of dark blue armor rising from the ruins to block the cyan storm.
The colossal Susanoo roared to life, exhaling a massive Fire Release: Great Fire Destruction from its mouth.
The torrent of flame worked seamlessly with the Wood Release: Wood Dragon Technique, a power still his thanks to the perfect essence of Hashirama within him.
The dragon coiled around the Susanoo's free arm like a living extension of its master's will.
With his other hand, Madara unleashed a storm of Yasaka Magatama, blazing chakra discs that carved through the sky with pinpoint fury.
As the last one flew, he drew the energy back into his palm, shaping it into a blade of pure, condensed chakra, the most potent sword his Susanoo could manifest.
The impact was cataclysmic. Akira's orbs sliced through each attack, burning through flame, wood, and Susanoo's chakra constructs, offensive and defensive alike.
"So, they nullify all chakra somehow… then evasion is my only option," Madara murmured, his voice calm despite the chaos.
He remained composed within the Susanoo's core, his Sharingan tracking every subtle movement within the deadly storm.
Each orb's path was deciphered an instant before impact, his movements precise and fluid as he maneuvered from within, evading the piercing projectiles with flawless timing and without much panic despite the breaches.
Because he also wasn't only defending.
He was waiting for something decisive as well.
His own ultimate trump card.
So, unseen to anyone else, four silhouettes stood in another plane, his Limbo clones, birthed from the Rinnegan's deepest power, unique to him.
They had already previously moved without sound, invisible to the living world, waiting for their master's command.
"Now, kill him," Madara whispered, as they finally closed in and positioned near his enemy in the distance.
A moment later, Akira's body jerked violently.
Pain erupted through his Tenseigan Chakra Mode armour, unseen blows ripping through him from every angle.
His aura cracked, blood scattering into the air.
"What…?" Akira gasped, his senses straining, yet he felt nothing, no chakra signature, no presence.
But the attacks were real.
His body screamed in warning.
He reacted instantly, flooding his body with power as a cyan explosion ripped through the battlefield.
In the next moment, he propelled himself skyward with the full force of his Tenseigan's telekinetic energy, leaving a blazing trail of light in his wake.
Madara's eyes followed him calmly through the dissipating dust.
Akira coughed blood mid-ascent, his regeneration already sealing the torn flesh, when a sudden force tried to seize him again, the unmistakable pull of the Rinnegan's Banshō Ten'in.
Yet as he looked down, his opponent was nowhere near the point from which the pull had originated, the same spot where he'd been struck moments earlier.
Realization flickered through him; it had to be some hidden technique of his the entire time.
"Tch… Rinnegan," he muttered, forcing more even chakra into his ascent.
The air around him distorted as he wrenched free successfully, escaping ever higher into the clouds, before swerving off.
Below, Madara stood amid the devastation, his Susanoo's form flickering back as the Limbo shadows he used for the first time in real battle just now, returned to him.
A faint smile crossed his lips.
"So… even he bleeds."