**AT THE SENJU CLAN COMPOUND – DUSK**
Rain lashed ancient cedar walls—torchlight flickering against soaked scrolls depicting blooming forests. Elder Imori's cane cracked sharply against Hashirama's spine—a dry thunderclap. "Fool!" Spittle flew—mist mingling with downpour beyond open shoji screens. "You lead our blood against *what*? A demon who shatters mountains like clay?" Hashirama knelt—head bowed—mud-streaked armor dripping onto tatami. Wooden floorboards groaned beneath his tremors. Behind him, wounded shinobi choked on blood-stench—bandages already blooming crimson where dragon-presence had shattered their chakra coils. Imori leaned closer—wrinkled face contorted—knuckles white around cane-grip. "Forty-seven clansmen lost! For what? Uchiha madness?" Hashirama flinched—recalling Madara's whirlwind charge—Sharingan crimson against Kaido's shadow. "He… promised annihilation," Hashirama whispered—sap-green eyes unfocused. "The Iwakura fortress… vaporized banners…" Imori's cane rose again—hovering—a viper poised. "Promises? You chased *smoke*! Saw only Uchiha fire reflected in dragon-scales!" Rain intensified—hammering roof tiles like mocking applause.
Imori straightened—spine cracking—silhouetted against storm-riven dark. "This Kaido is no warlord," he hissed. "He's nature's wrath given teeth. And you? Fed him Senju lives seasoned with ignorance!" Hashirama's fingers dug splinters from tatami—blood slicking rain-wet wood. His silence thickened—suffocating—as poisoned tangles choked his failed wooden defenses. Imori's voice dropped—liquid nitrogen poured onto shame. "Your brother's ghost watches. Tell him—was Butsuma's sacrifice for this? Leading lambs to a dragon's maw?" Torchlight guttered—casting dancing skull-shadows. Hashirama's breath hitched—memory-flash: Tobirama's ice-calm glare before dawn patrol… vaporized now with eastern ridge scouts. Dragon-laughter echoed in his marrow. Imori spat—a globule striking Hashirama's mud-caked cheek. "Beg the ancestors for forgiveness. Then crawl to Uchiha Tajima—swear ceasefire." Cane gestured north—toward Uchiha watchfires glimmering through cypress gloom. "Only united do we survive storms… or dragons."
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**NORTHWEST – CHASM FORGE ENTRANCE**
Obsidian shards screamed beneath Goro's hammer—chain-bound wrists bleeding freely onto Chakra Ore's resonant surface. Each strike released cobalt sparks—blinding in subterranean gloom—etching dragon-scale patterns onto the glowing metal. Kaido watched—crimson eyes reflecting forge-fire—from a throne carved of weeping rock. "Faster," he rumbled—voice vibrating through stone. Goro groaned—muscles tearing—as Kanabō's spine-curve emerged—jagged—hungry—from swirling plasma. Beyond the cavern mouth? Razor-vines thrashed—Hideshi's wind-scythe howled—training fueled by dragon-threat. Kaido sipped vinegar wine. Crucibles burned. Weakness screamed. Tomorrow—Konoha's ghosts would bleed anew… or be reforged.
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**UCHIHA STRONGHOLD – NIGHTMARE-THICK RAIN**
Torrents hammered black-lacquered walls—waterfalling off demon-mask eaves. Elder Tajima's shadow consumed Madara—Sage-of-Six-Paths scrolls looming like tombstones behind him. Rainwater pooled crimson at Madara's boots—diluting blood-stains ripped through scorched armor. Tajima's fist slammed the ancestral blade display—six katana shivered in their mounts. "**Idiot-child!**" Spittle mingled with blood-mist curling from Madara's cracked lip. "Forty-three Uchiha! Forty-three futures—**ashes** beneath some drunken beast's shadow!" Sharingan memories flickered—Senju scouts melting into dragon-breath glare—Hashirama's wooden shield evaporating like paper. Madara straightened—spine screaming fracture—obsidian hair plastered to bleeding scalp. "He threatened—" Tajima's backhand snapped Madara's head sideways—an iron-golem's strike. Bone crunched. "Threats?!" The elder seized Madara's collar—dragging him eye-level with Hyottoko masks leering from rain-slicked pillars. "I taught you—fire burns hotter than boasts!" Madara's Sharingan spun—vision doubling—dragon-scales superimposing Tajima's enraged wrinkles. "His strength—" Tajima's laugh cut frigid—ice shards scraping stone. "Strength? You faced annihilation—not battle! Returned trembling—like a kicked hound!" Rain howled through open screens. Lightning-flash revealed charred clan banners—funerary ink bleeding onto tatami.
Tajima released him—shoving Madara onto knees slick with rainwater and warrior-blood. "Your father died carving Uchiha honor from Senju bone," he hissed—knuckles white around Izanami's hilt. "You? Drag it through mud!" Madara's breath hitched—acid-sharp—as Kaido's Conqueror's Haki phantom-crushed his ribs anew. Tajima's boot pressed his shoulder—forcing spine toward fractured floorboards. "Beg the Senju for ceasefire?" The elder's voice dripped venom. "**Never.**" Finality echoed—thunder-riven. Shadow draped Madara—dragon-sized—as Tajima turned toward storm. "Hashirama's weakness birthed this calamity." Rain lashed ancestral portraits—Uchiha Kagami's stern gaze judging from beyond ash. Tajima's silhouette sharpened—dagger-cold against lightning. "Prove your blood flows hotter than his sentimental sap…" Sharingan ignited—triple-tomoe bleeding into the downpour. "...or join your father in disgrace." Madara's fist clenched—knuckles splitting on jagged wood. Dragon-laughter vibrated in his marrow. Failure tasted like ozone and spit.
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**STONE CRAGS COURTYARD – FALSE DAWN**
Kenji's fingers froze—midway through knotting Beast Pirate banner ropes—as Conqueror's Haki tremors shivered northeast. Rainwater sluiced off Kaido's plum-cape—puddling around scaled boots sunk deep in ash-mud. Crimson gaze tracked Uchiha watchfires guttering through cypress gloom—he tasted Tajima's ice-fury… Senju Imori's poisoned desperation… Madara's fractured pride fermenting into vengeance-wine. Dragon-nostrils flared—ozone and blood-metal. Kanabō's obsidian teeth hummed—low—yearning. Goro's hammer-strikes echoed—rhythmic—distant. Kaido's grin split the downpour—ice-fangs drinking storm-light. Crucibles awaited. Broken boys crawled toward his mountain. Let them bring their rage… or burn alive as kindling. War's adolescence smelled of wet charcoal and snapped ambition. Perfection.
Crimson eyes narrowed—slitted—piercing northwest toward unborn Konoha's cradle. Dragon-sight flickered—visions overlaying rain-slicked rubble: **obsidian valley splitting earth like a wound… Hashirama's colossal wooden dragon disintegrating under violet fire… Madara's mangled armor fused to bleeding ribs with Rinnegan iris blazing cosmic-battle madness.** Kaido's scaled knuckles cracked—dry thunder echoing mortal fragility. That battle? Cosmic spark against true oblivion. Neither Senju sap nor Uchiha fire scorched soul-deep—not yet. They fought history's ghosts… not dragons forged beyond dimension-flesh. Fragile puppets dancing for Otsutsuki shadows. Kanabō vibrated—hungering—against hybrid shoulder-plate. Soon.
Superheated vapor hissed—incinerating airborne droplets—as Kaido strode toward Goro's plasma-lit cavern. Scales scraped weeping granite. Hybrid form towered—twelve feet of coiled contempt. Hashirama's forest-heart wept trees… Madara's wrath carved clan-pyres… yet neither shattered infinity's chains. **Their final clash?** Kaido snorted—steam-vortex shredding mist. **Stage-lit tragedy written by celestial parasites.** Obsidian teeth gleamed—thirsty. When *he* faced them—broken-backed atop stone-crags—their borrowed power would crumble like petrified wood beneath dragon-heel. Weakness—even martyred—remained weakness. Only raw god-killing truth endured. Kanabō pulsed—resonating with Chakra Ore's cobalt scream. Lessons needed blood-teaching. Soon.
Feather-cape flared—indigo storm swallowing false dawn—as Kaido vanished into forge-smog. Dragon-will hammered Stone Crags: **Survive my crucible… bleed strength from my teachings… become blades worthy of shattering moons.** Or feed his ambition as screaming kindling. Either outcome tasted sweet. Northeast—Hideshi's wind-scythe howled—cutting poison-thorns. Chains rattled—Goro screamed—metal fusing with dragon-command. Kenji trembled beneath skull-flags. Crucibles burned. Boys crawled toward apocalypse. Kaido laughed—subsonic—tectonic plates trembling miles beneath fractured earth. Tomorrow… dawn promised screaming.
Rain wept charcoal-gray upon shattered flagstones—dawn bled pale through storm-wrack. Kenji scrambled across rubble—bones jutting beneath fevered skin—breath whistling past cracked ribs. **"Master!"** Voice cracked—rotted timber splintering. Kaido turned—hybrid form towering—crimson gaze carving Kenji's terror into trembling meat. Kenji collapsed—forehead grinding ash-mud—hands clutching obsidian shard etched with Beast Pirate fangs. **"Scouts… northwest gorge…"** Blood-flecked spit sprayed Kaido's scaled boot. **"Nine-Tails… sighted near Akatsuchi Pass!"** Words hung—smoke-thin—in vinegar-stenched air. Kaido's nostrils flared—deep—inhaling ozone… sulfur… beneath downpour's chill? **Primordial fire.** Dragon-scalps prickled. Memory-flash: Kurama's molten eyes glaring through Konoha's ruin… obliterating mountains with tail-sweeps… swallowing nations whole. Kenji whimpered—bladder releasing warm stench onto rain-slick stone. **"Red fur… eyes like hell-lakes…"**
Silence—thicker than chasm-forge slag—settled. Kaido's grin split storm-light—glacier-fangs drinking dawn's weak gold. Not smile. Predator's rictus—bone-deep and bleeding joy. Plum-cape billowed sudden gale—snapping Beast Pirate banners taut as hanged men's necks. **"Finally,"** Kaido rumbled—voice grinding boulders to glitter-dust beneath Kenji's cowering form. Rain hissed vapor against obsidian scales. Crimson pupils narrowed—slitted—piercing northwest mists where Kurama's chakra simmered like a newborn supernova. Dragon-blood sang—boiling through veins purified by centuries of shattered challengers. Nine-Tails? Worthy whetstone. Not Konoha's shackled beast… but Warring States' untamed calamity—raw fury unchained by jinchūriki weakness. Muscle-fiber screamed anticipation—coiled tighter than ballista springs. Tomorrow's war-drum pounded in hybrid skull: **Shatter its bones. Drink its fire. Claim its roar.** Kenji retched—acrid bile joining rain-puddles. Kaido inhaled—deep—savoring terror's perfume laced with demon-fox ozone. Perfection incarnate.
Kanabō lifted—slicing rain-curtains—obsidian teeth humming crimson. **"Plant the banner there,"** Kaido boomed—pointing northwest—each syllable cracking flagstones like eggshells. **"Where the fox pisses molten rock."** Kenji shuddered—whole body seizing—as dragon-will crushed spinal cord to jelly. **"Hang it…"** Kaido leaned closer—shadow swallowing Kenji's whimpers— **"...from its smoldering skull."** Twin geysers of superheated steam erupted—scorching Kenji's cheek raw—blurring Kaido's silhouette into indigo storm-wraith. **"Or become fertilizer beneath its claws."** Choice etched in acid rain and dragon-spit. Kaido pivoted—boots pulverizing granite—striding toward Akatsuchi's promise. Behind him? Not screams—only silence thick with shattered futures. Ahead? Volcano-breath scented wind. War's adolescence tasted of sulfur and salvation.