White Zetsu dragged the broken body across stone.
Obito Uchiha barely resembled a living thing. Half his body was crushed beyond recognition, ribs shattered inward, organs exposed and slick with blood. His breathing was shallow and erratic. Any ordinary shinobi would have died from the boulder smash long before reaching the Mountain Graveyard.
But fate had a habit of clinging to certain souls who didn't want to die.
Madara watched in silence as the boy was laid at his feet.
For a long moment, he said nothing. His sharingan eye examined the child as a vessel that could wear his name without the world knowing the difference.
So this is him.
The boy who had smiled too easily. The boy who believed in comrades. The boy whose heart was still soft and helped anyone.
Madara had seen countless Uchiha over his long life. Proud ones, Bitter ones, Cruel ones, Ambitious ones. Most awakened their power through hatred sharpened by ego or loss twisted into rage. But this one was different.
This one had loved.
And love, Madara knew, was far more dangerous.
Love, when broken properly, did not burn out. It collapsed until it hollowed a person until only obsession remained. That kind of pain did not fade with time. It demanded meaning for its existence.
That was the kind of Mangekyō Sharingan Madara wanted.
Still… doubt gnawed at him.
Madara's thoughts drifted back to the battlefield reports Black Zetsu had delivered. The Third Raikage, a man strong enough to challenge Hashirama even in an imperfect resurrection. A jinchūriki who had achieved harmony with the Eight-Tails.
The world was changing faster than expected.
Kumogakure was no longer just another great village. It was becoming a nexus of jinchūriki, bloodlines, and military discipline. If left unchecked, it could disrupt the delicate inevitability Madara had spent decades planning.
And then there was Nagato.
Madara's jaw tightened slightly.
Nagato possessed the Rinnegan. His Rinnegan. The true linchpin of the Eye of the Moon Plan. Yet Nagato was not obedient. He was idealistic, empathetic just like his rival... Hashirama. He seems to be apart of a group called Akatsuki, proclaiming themselves as the peacebringer to the ninja world. Laughable.
If Nagato grew too powerful before Obito matured enough to guide him or Kumo grows too powerful and his successor is killed… the plan would fracture.
Once an idea takes root, it does not stay. It multiplies.
The idea that his successor might fail him did not leave his mind once it formed. It gnawed and twisted into contingency after contingency of failure.
That was the curse of an idea. Madara had always seen too far ahead.
"Black Zetsu," Madara said quietly.
The dark mass peeled itself from the cavern wall, reforming beside him. "Yes, Madara-sama."
"Accelerate the search for the Totsuka Blade and the Yata Mirror," Madara ordered. "I will not die until they are accounted for."
Black Zetsu bowed slightly, though his thoughts churned beneath the surface.
This is not ideal. The longer old Madara lived, the longer the Infinite Tsukuyomi was delayed. He need to die and be brought back to life in his youth. Black Zetsu had engineered centuries of conflict, betrayal, and reincarnation to bring a scapegoat, Madara, back at this precise moment. Every delay introduced uncertain variables and risk.
But he could not oppose Madara directly. Not yet. "As you wish," Black Zetsu said. "I will prioritize it."
Madara turned his gaze back to Obito. "White Zetsu," he said. "Leave us."
White Zetsu pouted. "Aww, Madara-sama, I just got here. And the kid's still breathing funny. I wonder how does it take a crap now with half its body gone.."
"Leave."
White Zetsu vanished into the stone with exaggerated disappointment... still imagine the possibilities how it would take a crap.
The cavern fell quiet again, except for the distant hum of the Gedo Statue and the shallow rasp of Obito's breath.
Madara stood.
The movement was slow and deliberate. His old bones creaked as chakra surged through him. The tubes connecting him to the statue strained but held. He approached Obito and placed his hand over the crushed half of the boy's body.
Hashirama cells pulsed alive beneath Madara's palm. He had absorbed them carefully over decades, understanding their nature and compatibility.
"If you cannot endure this," Madara said softly, "then you were never meant to carry my name."
He pressed down.
The Hashirama cells surged forward like roots seeking fertile soil. They invaded shattered muscle, wrapped around splintered bone, threaded through torn organs. Obito's body convulsed violently as foreign life force flooded him.
For a moment, it seemed like too much. Obito's chakra spiked erratically. His heartbeat faltered. His mouth opened in a silent scream as pain tore through what little consciousness remained.
Madara watched without flinching. Then, slowly, obito stabilized and his cells adapted.
Obito's flesh began to knit itself together, not perfectly, but sufficiently. Scar tissue formed where there should have been muscle. White, fibrous matter replaced what could not be restored. His body would never be whole again.
That, too, was intentional.
A reminder that always teach to be careful. Madara withdrew his hand. The boy lay still now, breathing more evenly.
"Good," Madara murmured. "You will do."
He began forming hand seals, slow and precise despite the strain on his body. The chakra he used was dense, layered with forbidden knowledge.
A curse tag took shape.
The Forbidden Individual Curse Tag Juinjutsu.
It sank into Obito's body invisibly, spreading like ink beneath skin. It anchored itself to his chakra network, his nervous system, his very will and his heart.
It would prevent Obito from betraying Madara and control Obito's actions, stopping Obito from committing suicide or interfering with the plan. And, most importantly, prevent Obito from becoming the Ten-Tails' jinchūriki without Madara's explicit design.
Madara completed the final seal and exhaled slowly.
Obito remained unconscious.
That was acceptable.
Madara turned away and returned to his throne. As his body settled, his thoughts continued to churn.
Kumo is dangerous.
The Raikage's willingness to burn his own life force marked him as a true leader. Such men inspired loyalty, not fear. And the Eight-Tails jinchūriki… If that cooperation spread, if tailed beasts began to trust humans… and more were to appear like Eight-Tails jinchūriki.
That would complicate everything.
Madara's plan required despair and isolation. A world desperate enough to accept illusion over reality. Unity was poison to that dream.
Madara closed his eyes briefly. I cannot rely on one pawn alone.
When Obito awakens, he will shape him. But if he proves insufficient... if he cannot control Nagato, cannot reclaim the beasts, cannot stand against monsters like the Raikage... then contingencies would be enacted.
Madara opened his eyes. "Black Zetsu," he called.
The shadow emerged once more.
"In the future," Madara said, voice calm but absolute, "if the successor proves too weak… if he cannot control Nagato or reclaim the bijū from Kumo…"
Black Zetsu inclined his head, already understanding.
"Retrieve the Sharingan he gave to the other child," Madara finished. "Do not hesitate."
"Yes, Madara-sama. But why not take it now?"
"I have a feeling it would greatly benefit if we leave it for now. This peace loving child is not yet ready."
Black Zetsu nodded and withdrew, his thoughts racing. So he doubts the successor now.
Black Zetsu did not fear Obito's strength, No matter how strong this successor grows he can never be at the level of Madara. But, he feared Madara's uncertainty. Because uncertainty bred deviation, and deviation threatened the purity of the plan.
But for now, the pieces were still moving.
Madara continued, "Now go bring the Totsuka blade and Yata Mirror. So, they can aid this successor of mine."
~~
A/N: Upto 20 Advance chapters available @ patreon.com/aizenDuchiha0
Discord Server: https://discord.gg/sAywgMcWXV
Since neither Madara or Black zetsu knows about kamui, they are underestimating Obito. And Madara suspects that Obito won't be strong enough to deal with Kumo. So, he asks zetsu to bring the mighty tools Itachi would possess until then he won't die. [Clinging pathetically to life]