[FOR EVERY 100 POWERSTONES = 1 EXTRA CHAPTER]
The silence in Indra's roofless room was a heavy, living thing, broken only by the ragged, mechanical rhythm of his breathing. The five most powerful shinobi of their generation stood around his still form, the euphoria of their victory and the miracle of healing utterly extinguished by the chilling reality before them. The god who had reshaped the continent was now a prisoner in his own body, a vessel running on the barest embers of life.
It was Tobirama who broke the silence, his analytical mind, freed from the agony of his injuries, now coldly dissecting the cause of their current nightmare. His crimson eyes were fixed on Indra's pale, motionless hand, where the kunai had drawn the five drops of concentrated life.
"The energy we felt… it wasn't just chakra," Tobirama stated, his voice low and precise. "It was vitality itself. Pure life force. I theorize he didn't just 'give' us his blood. He performed a metaphysical transference. He somehow severed a portion of his own quintessential lifespan and encoded it into those orbs. He didn't heal us with a technique… he replaced what was lost within us with what he took from himself."
The clinical explanation made the act seem even more horrifying. It wasn't medicine; it was a sacrifice.
Izuna, his newly restored Mangekyo wide with dawning horror, grabbed the front of his brother's armor. "Madara! Tobirama is saying he… he carved years out of his own life for us! If a person draws out too much vitality… they die! Is… is Elder Brother dying?!"
The word 'die' hung in the air, a final, terrifying verdict.
Toka's face, already pale from exhaustion, lost all remaining color. The strong, unflappable kunoichi seemed to shrink. The thought of a world without Indra, without her John, was an abyss that opened up beneath her feet. The treacherous world she had navigated with such strength now seemed a vast, empty, and meaningless place without him in it. A small, broken sound escaped her lips, a sob she quickly stifled by biting her knuckle.
Madara's face was a mask of stormy darkness, his fists clenched so tightly his nails drew blood from his palms. Hashirama's usual vibrant energy was gone, replaced by a profound, soul-crushing guilt. They had fought him, pushed him to this, and now he was paying the price for their salvation.
It was then that a voice, smooth as warm honey and ancient as the stars, flowed into their minds. It was Agni, still perched on the bedpost, her fiery eyes holding a deep, timeless calm.
"Do not be afraid, little flames. Your fear is a disservice to his sacrifice. Yes, he has severed a significant portion of his vitality. Five centuries' worth, to be precise."
A collective gasp echoed in the room. Five hundred years.
"But do not despair," Agni continued, her mental voice a soothing balm. "He is not dying. His body is merely entering a state of profound stasis to recover. Did you not hear his final words? He requires solar energy. His body, in this hibernation, is a conduit for the sun's very essence. He will absorb its light and use it to reconstruct his depleted life force. It will take time—six months, perhaps—but he will return to you, whole."
The relief was so potent it was physically dizzying. Toka slumped against the wall, tears of sheer relief now streaming down her face. Izuna let out a shaky breath, and Madara's shoulders loosened their rigid stance.
"However," Agni's tone became sharp, commanding, "we have work to do. The Uchiha and Senju are now one. The other clans, major and minor, will not sit idly by. They will either come seeking an alliance, fearing his power, or they will try to shatter this new union. You must move forward. And you must do so with the utmost secrecy."
She floated from the bedpost to hover over Indra's chest, a small, fiery guardian.
"No one outside this room can know of his condition. The legend of Indra Uchiha, the god who controls time and reality, is the only thing holding the wolves at bay. If word spreads that he is vulnerable, in a coma… every clan with a grudge, every power-hungry daimyo, will send their best assassins to ensure he never wakes up. Our first and only priority is to safeguard his body until he recovers."
The directive was clear. The battle was over, but the war for security had just begun.
Hashirama, ever the first to look towards the future, even in a crisis, straightened up. The grief and guilt in his eyes were now subsumed by a fierce, determined light. "Then we must hide him. Somewhere no one would think to look. And we must begin building the foundation he fought for. Why don't we… why don't we build a village? A true village, where all clans can live together under one banner! We can propose it to the Land of Fire's Daimyo! A one kingdom, one village policy!"
The idealism of the statement was so pure, so utterly Hashirama, that for a moment, no one could speak.
Then, Toka moved. She didn't shout. She simply stepped forward and delivered a sharp, forceful thwack to the back of Hashirama's head with her knuckles, a move perfected over a lifetime of dealing with his naivete.
"You absolute, blithering idiot!" she hissed, her voice trembling with a mixture of fury and fear. "You want to build a relationship with those hypocrites? The Daimyo and his court are the main reason the clan wars started! They pit us against each other, they fund our conflicts, they ensure we ninja are always fighting amongst ourselves so we never set our sights on their thrones! And now, in the middle of a crisis, you want to go and ask their permission? To tie our future to their whims?"
Hashirama, rubbing the back of his head, did not wilt under her tirade. For the first time, the gullible, emotional boy was gone, replaced by the man who would become the God of Shinobi. His gaze was steady, his voice low and filled with a iron-clad resolve that stunned his sister into silence.
"I know, Sister."
The simple statement held a world of understanding. "I know exactly what they are. I am not proposing we go as supplicants. I am not proposing we trust them. But I have a plan. A long-term plan. It will take decades to fully realize. But the first step is securing Indra. The second step is building the village with their support, because fighting them and every other clan simultaneously is suicide. We will use their recognition, their funding, their legitimacy, to build our power base. And then, in two or three decades, when we are strong enough, unified enough… we will be in a position where the Daimyo's 'permission' is a courtesy, not a requirement."
The room was utterly silent. Madara looked at Hashirama with a new, grudging respect. This was not the dreamer; this was a strategist.
Toka, Izuna, and Tobirama—the leader and the two master strategists of their respective clans—stared at Hashirama as if he had grown a second head. The plan was audacious, revolutionary, and riddled with more loopholes than a Nara fishing net.
"You… you want to systematically outgrow and neuter the feudal authority?" Tobirama finally said, his mind already racing through the implications, the potential pitfalls, the necessary economic, military, and political maneuvers.
"It's the only way to ensure true, lasting autonomy," Hashirama said, his voice firm. "But first, we save my brother-in-law. After he wakes up, we will present the full plan to him. For now, his safety is all that matters."
The shift in focus was unanimous. With a new, grim purpose, Madara gently lifted Indra's unconscious form, cradling him with a care that belied his fierce exterior. They moved like ghosts through the night, heading not for the clan compounds, but for the distant mountain range that would one day bear the faces of Hokage.
They chose a secluded cliff face, its surface rugged and unassuming. Working in perfect, silent coordination, they became a machine of creation and concealment.
Hashirama and Madara began. With a touch of their hands to the stone, they used Earth Style to hollow out a vast, single chamber deep within the mountain's heart. They left the ceiling open to the sky, as Indra required. Then, they set to work on the perimeter. Hashirama's Wood Style created a labyrinth of thorned vines that secreted a paralytic toxin. Madara layered the area with explosive tags linked to hair-trigger wire traps and genjutsu-activated pits filled with sharpened stakes.
Next, Izuna and Tobirama combined their arts. Izuna's Mangekyo spun, weaving a colossal, area-of-effect genjutsu that bent light and perception. To any observer, the entire mountainside would appear as a continuous, unbroken rock face. Tobirama's masterful Transformation Jutsu then layered over it, adding mundane details like weathering, bird nests, and shifting shadows that made the illusion utterly convincing. The very air seemed to shimmer with misdirection.
Finally, Toka approached. With a brush of her own blood, she inked complex Uzumaki-style fuinjutsu seals around the entire hidden chamber. These seals did not block; they enforced a law of reality. The principle was intangibility. Anyone searching for the chamber would simply pass through the mountain rock as if it were mist, never finding purchase, unless they found the one, single point of tangibility: the invisible door.
She created a door, seamless and undetectable, and on it, a single, perfectly ordinary-looking door knob. This knob was the key. The first time a person of authorized chakra signature—pre-set to only the six of them and Agni—touched it, the entire chamber would become tangible and accessible. Anyone else, or any subsequent attempt without the key, would result in their hand passing through the knob as if it were an illusion.
For six hours they worked, their combined genius creating a vault that was less a room and more a conceptual trap. It was a fortress of illusions, seals, and deadly mechanics, designed not to be broken, but to be fundamentally unfindable.
As the first rays of the morning sun touched the open ceiling of the hidden chamber, illuminating Indra's still form on a simple stone slab, they finally stepped back. Agni settled on his chest, a small, eternal flame standing watch.
Their immediate duty was done.
Returning to the combined clan office—a large hall that still smelled of fresh wood and tense diplomacy—Hashirama laid out the skeleton of his grand plan. He spoke of a hidden village, of centralizing shinobi power, of playing the Daimyo's game while building a piece on the board so powerful it could eventually checkmate the king.
Toka, Izuna, and Tobirama listened, their minds already a whirlwind of analysis. They saw the loopholes immediately: economic dependence, political infiltration, internal dissent, the Daimyo's own military, the reaction of other clans, the logistics of unification…
Toka rubbed her temples, a monumental headache forming. Izuna and Tobirama exchanged a look of shared, exhausted realization. They had just survived a battle with a god. Now, they were faced with a task that might be even more daunting: untangling the knotted, centuries-old web of feudal politics. They had no idea how many days, months, or years they would have to spend solving the endless stream of problems this "simple" plan would create. The path to peace, it seemed, was paved with paperwork and political landmines.
[FOR EVERY 100 POWERSTONES = 1 EXTRA CHAPTER]
[NOTICE:
A sincere notice to all my valued readers. I must apologize for a significant error in my recent story. I made the protagonist far too powerful for the initial setting of the Warring States period. While such immense strength might have been suitable for a later era, it was a major narrative mistake for this specific timeline, disrupting the story's balance.
My elder sister, who is formally educated in literature, reviewed the work and pointed out this critical flaw in the narrative's progression. She has kindly offered her expertise to help salvage and progress the existing story, ensuring it follows a more logical and compelling path. The revised chapters, guided by her, will be posted on this very account for you to read.
Consequently, I have decided to start a brand new fanfiction. To involve you all in this fresh start, I will present three story options in a follow-up post. Please comment on which one you prefer. The concept with the most feedback will be the one I write. Please be aware that all my future main characters will possess a core power, such as the Adaptable Body, Gojo's Six Eyes, or Superman's abilities. However, each power will be intentionally nerfed at the story's beginning to allow for organic growth and development, with their full potential unlocked as the narrative and their strength naturally progress. I humbly ask for your continued support.]
[Marvel X Harry potter crossover fanfic]
[I can summon heroes and villain's from Anime's and Movies]
[In marvel I create an Powerful Hero Organization With Mod game]
[THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT PLEASE SUPPORT MY FANFIC WITH YOUR POWER STONE'S AND REVIEW'S]