Far away in the Land of Grass, Menma Uzumaki remained completely unaware that fate itself was subtly rearranging the timing of his inevitable collision with a certain masked Uchiha.
When Menma had forcefully seized Kakashi Hatake's Sharingan, he had already prepared himself for the consequences that decision would invite. The risks were not only acknowledged they had been carefully weighed. After all, the space–time ninjutsu Kamui possessed by Uchiha Obito was not merely troublesome; it was a fundamentally abnormal ability capable of overturning conventional combat logic.
It was not that Kamui could not be countered. Every technique had a weakness.
However, in Menma's current strategic assessment, the most effective method was painfully obvious: obtain the second Mangekyō Sharingan.
The two eyes were linked.
They opened into the same dimensional void.
If that singular truth could be fully exploited, then Obito's famed intangibility his ability to phase his body through attacks by shifting parts of himself into Kamui space would lose much of its mystique. What appeared to be invincibility would instead become a calculable mechanism.
Strip away the blessing of Kamui, and what remained of Obito?
At most, he could be evaluated as an elite jōnin approaching Kage level a terrifying shinobi by normal standards, but far from insurmountable.
Without both eyes synchronized in battle and without the capability to manifest Susanoo, Obito's direct combat performance had never been overwhelmingly dominant. Even the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, had been able to critically wound him after deducing the operational rhythm of Kamui during their brief but decisive encounter.
The later confrontation with Konan provided another telling example.
Obito had ultimately survived only by resorting to Izanagi, sacrificing a Sharingan in exchange for reality manipulation. That fact alone proved that he was not invincible. If his power truly allowed him to suppress top-tier opponents effortlessly, such desperate measures would never have been necessary.
Even his most infamous achievement subjugating the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura Karatachi, a Perfect Jinchūriki contained hidden variables. Intelligence suggested that the influence of Nagato and the Akatsuki's broader strategic operations had played a significant role in weakening Yagura's resistance before Obito imposed genjutsu control.
Otherwise, the disparity in displayed combat capability would be difficult to reconcile.
If Obito alone could easily dominate a Perfect Jinchūriki who stood firmly within Kage-class combat parameters, then his struggle against Konan would make little sense. Nor would there have been any need for elaborate traps or time-limit exploitation.
These inconsistencies formed the basis of Menma's conclusion.
At his current stage capable of drawing upon the Nine-Tails' chakra cloak up to the fourth and even fifth tail manifestation Menma himself had already stepped into the threshold of Kage-level destructive potential. His raw power, regeneration, and battlefield pressure were no longer comparable to ordinary shinobi.
Under such circumstances, the difference between himself and Obito was not one of absolute superiority, but of tactical advantage.
And intelligence was the deciding factor.
Menma possessed knowledge.
He held one of Obito's eyes.
If utilized with precision, an ambush or carefully orchestrated confrontation could realistically end in Obito's defeat perhaps even his death.
In the world of shinobi warfare, when the gap in strength was not overwhelming, information superiority was often enough to determine victory.
For now, Menma walked within the shadows.
Ironically, the man who believed himself to be manipulating history from the darkness Uchiha Obito stood exposed in comparison.
From this perspective, Menma was not afraid of a premature clash. Risks existed, certainly, but the potential rewards were far too great to ignore. Ultimately, success or failure would depend upon instantaneous judgment in battle.
Of course, these remained hypotheses.
It was entirely possible that Obito's true strength had yet to be revealed, and that past shortcomings were merely the result of carelessness.
But hesitation was a far greater enemy.
Blind recklessness led to death yet excessive caution strangled opportunity.
Menma's philosophy was simple: choose the path with the greatest overall gain.
Now that the second Mangekyō Sharingan lay somewhere within reach, turning away would be equivalent to surrendering destiny itself.
Decisiveness could still lead to failure.
Indecision guaranteed it.
He had already abandoned the so-called "stable" future that Konohagakure had prepared for him. The path of a protected successor no longer held meaning. When the moment arrived, he would not look back.
Force would carve his future.
That was Menma Uzumaki's answer.
While maintaining vigilance for a possible attack from Obito at any time, Menma continued conducting experimental training within the hidden base.
Three days passed swiftly.
The appointed time approached.
"Is the meeting location really there? I assumed you would arrange it closer to one of your strongholds, Orochimaru-san."
After stepping out into the open terrain, Menma cast a mildly surprised glance toward his companion.
The surprise did not stem solely from logistical considerations. The designated meeting point lay dangerously close to the ruins of Kannabi Bridge a battlefield etched deeply into shinobi history.
It was the place where Uchiha Obito had supposedly "died."
It was also where Kakashi Hatake had inherited the Sharingan.
"Heh… the Third Tsuchikage has shown sincerity by traveling personally," Orochimaru replied in his hoarse, serpentine tone, a familiar smile curling across his pale face. "Should we not reciprocate? Of course, if Menma-kun feels uncomfortable, the location can still be changed. I imagine that old man would readily agree."
Menma raised an eyebrow.
"That won't be necessary. I was merely commenting."
He studied Orochimaru briefly.
Despite undergoing numerous body transfers, the Sannin still preferred to maintain an appearance reminiscent of his original self. Whether it was vanity or psychological fixation remained unclear.
"Very well," Orochimaru said lightly. "Then let us depart. We must not keep our guests waiting."
He deliberately emphasized the final word.
Menma only laughed softly, as though failing to grasp the deeper implications.
"Indeed. Let's go, Orochimaru-san."
He moved first.
Orochimaru paused for a fleeting moment before shaking his head with quiet amusement and following.
At their speed, the journey would require less than half a day.
Far beyond them, another figure had already taken to the skies.
Ōnoki, the Third Tsuchikage, had departed at nearly the same time.
The reason was simple.
He could fly.
Using the Light-Weight Rock Technique, he reduced his own mass and traveled in a direct aerial trajectory. Even at his advanced age, the veteran Kage possessed chakra reserves far surpassing ordinary shinobi.
Although he could not compare to Jinchūriki or monstrous prodigies, maintaining flight over such a distance posed little difficulty.
Within a few hours, Ōnoki and his son Kitsuchi crossed the borders of the Land of Earth and entered the territory of the Land of Grass.
As they approached the rendezvous point, two distant silhouettes gradually came into view.
Ōnoki's sharp gaze narrowed.
So… that one must be Uzumaki Menma.
His eyes fixed upon the slender red-haired youth standing calmly beside the taller figure of Orochimaru.
The air itself seemed to grow heavier.
A historic meeting was about to begin.