On an inland lake that was never meant for human habitation, a shinobi village stood nonetheless.
Tall, tower-like buildings rose from the water, their surfaces laced with exposed drainage pipes and canals. The design was functional rather than beautiful, clearly built to endure constant rainfall. Compared to other villages, its architecture felt foreign, almost hostile.
Rain fell endlessly here.
A fine drizzle soaked the air day and night, as if the sun had never learned this place existed. Perhaps that unending rain was the reason the lake itself had formed in the first place.
This was Amegakure.
A village famed for assassination and covert warfare. Most of its shinobi wore gas masks as they moved through the flooded streets, long accustomed to poison, rain, and shadow.
At the highest point of the village, a man with short orange hair sat quietly, gazing down at the towers below.
Pain. The Deva Path.
Beside him stood a woman in the black cloak patterned with red clouds. Her pale blue-violet hair was styled into a neat bun, a light-blue paper flower pinned to the right side of her head. Soft orange eyes, accented with faint lavender shadow, lingered on Pain with visible concern. Her lips, pierced with metal studs, parted slightly, as if she wanted to speak.
In the end, she remained silent, her expression freezing once more.
Because someone had appeared behind them.
A man wearing a mask carved with a spiraling pattern.
"You're here," Pain said calmly, without turning around.
"Yes," the masked man replied. "I came to inform you. The power of the One-Tail through the Seven-Tails has already been secured. The remaining target is the Eight-Tails and the Nine-Tails. The rest of the organization is already heading for Kumogakure. The Eight-Tails shouldn't pose much of a problem."
He paused.
"And that leaves only the Nine-Tails," Pain said.
"Correct," the masked man replied, dissatisfaction creeping into his tone. "Because of your restraint, Konoha has grown stronger than ever. They have the Nine-Tails, the Sixth Hokage, and possibly even an Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan."
It was clear he blamed Nagato for allowing Uchiha Itachi to die.
Pain snorted softly. "I will retrieve the Nine-Tails myself. As for the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan… before divine power, it is meaningless."
"Let's hope so," the masked man said.
With that, he vanished.
Only Pain and Konan remained.
"Nagato," Konan said quietly, worry finally breaking through her calm. "What do we do next?"
In the past, she had never doubted Nagato's strength. Never questioned the power of the Rinnegan.
But that certainty had cracked.
Four Akatsuki members had once ambushed Fujimoto Tōma. They returned defeated. Two of them barely alive.
Since then, Konan had begun to understand something she never wanted to admit.
Nagato was not invincible.
There existed power in this world capable of directly confronting the Rinnegan.
And now, Nagato intended to go to Konoha to capture the Nine-Tails.
Which meant he would inevitably face Fujimoto Tōma.
Even if Nagato won, it would be a brutal victory. And with Nagato's current physical condition…
The unease she hadn't felt in years resurfaced.
"Nagato," she said again, softer this time.
Pain seemed to hear the worry beneath her words.
"Konan," he replied calmly. "Divine power is absolute. This time, the battlefield will be Konoha. As the Sixth Hokage, he will not abandon his village and flee. And I will not need to maintain a containment barrier."
He finally turned his gaze skyward.
"This time, he will witness the true power of a god."
Konan opened her mouth, then closed it.
Nagato had already decided.
When that happened, there was nothing she could say.
She shifted the topic, glancing toward the space where the masked man had stood.
"Nagato… do you really think he's Uchiha Madara?"
Pain fell silent.
For a long time.
"…I don't know," he said at last.
From the very beginning, Nagato had doubted the claim. Just because someone said they were Uchiha Madara didn't make it true.
And yet, the power the masked man displayed was undeniably real. Powerful enough to make the possibility unsettlingly plausible.
Still, doubts remained.
But in the end, his identity didn't matter.
What mattered was the plan.
A plan that could realize Yahiko's dream.
Even if the method was different from what Yahiko had once envisioned, Nagato had learned a painful truth after Yahiko's death.
This world was cursed.
True understanding between people was a fantasy. Peace could not exist without first experiencing pain.
Only by forcing the world to fear war could war be prevented.
To achieve that, absolute power was necessary.
A weapon forged from the combined might of the nine tailed beasts.
Nagato was certain such power existed.
Even with only a few tailed beasts collected, he could already feel the immense chakra they contained. And those were the weaker ones.
The Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails were in a league of their own.
"…So it doesn't matter," Nagato concluded.
Konan nodded slowly.
She had never truly believed the masked man's words either. And now, his clear wariness toward Konoha only reinforced her doubts.
If he were truly the legendary Madara, would he fear Konoha as it stood now?
The historical records didn't support that idea.
If anything, it made more sense that the man was an impostor. Even if Madara had survived, he would be ancient by now. A shadow of his former self.
Konan hadn't asked out of simple curiosity.
She wanted to stop Nagato.
Between Konoha's overwhelming strength and the presence of their former teacher, Jiraiya, she had no desire to stand on the opposite side.
But Nagato's resolve was ironclad.
She couldn't change it.
Konan sighed quietly.
If Yahiko's dream was peace, and Nagato was carrying that dream forward, then Konan's own wish was far simpler.
To walk alongside them.
To protect their ideals as her own.
So if the day came when Nagato stood against Jiraiya…
Even if it broke her heart, Konan already knew what choice she would make.
Still…
Was there truly no ending where everyone could be saved?