As Second Tsuchikage

Beneath the towering mountains and under the roar of a massive waterfall, Madara Uchiha stood alone. Cold mountain winds howled through the canyon, battering his long cloak and lashing at the rocks below.

He looked like a lone pine tree rooted against the storm, a monument of quiet strength. His obsidian-black hair was tied back, though a few rogue strands danced freely in the wind. His face was still handsome in its own way, but the years of bloodshed and betrayal had left a weariness in his eyes that no rest could ease.

Having stripped down to bathe beneath the waterfall, Madara embraced the solitude. He could've found a bathhouse in one of the nearby towns, but he never bothered. He preferred isolation. It kept things simple. No gossip. No flattery. No distractions.

Then, a strange feeling washed over him.

"...Am I being watched?"

His brows pulled together in a thoughtful frown, eyes scanning the edges of the forest. Yet he saw nothing. The unease remained, like a splinter just beneath the skin. But after a pause, he shook his head and dismissed it.

There's no one left in this world who can threaten me. Not anymore. Only Hashirama remains. Everyone else? They're insects, crushed beneath the heel of Susanoo.

What he didn't know was that far beyond his range of perception, a coalition of nations had formed. And they were coming for him.

…

Inside a secluded temple nestled deep in the mountains, tension crackled in the air like a drawn bowstring. The room was quiet but brimming with purpose.

"Iwagakure has sent thirty elite shinobi."

"Kirigakure, thirty as well."

"Kumogakure brought twenty-five elites."

"Sunagakure sent thirty of their best."

"Uzushio dispatched ten elite seal masters."

"Konoha brought thirty Senju shinobi."

Each report fell into place like a stone in a wall. Within the temple stood the second-generation leaders of the Five Great Shinobi Villages, along with the sealing experts of Uzushiogakure. Though most hadn't yet taken official titles as Kage, their presence marked something unprecedented, a gathering that mirrored what would one day become the Five Kage Summit.

Mū stood at the front, clearing his throat. "Cough, cough. Everyone, let's begin our strategy meeting."

Tobirama Senju stepped forward, his voice cold and clinical as he laid out everything he knew about Madara's strengths, fighting style, and psychological weaknesses. Mū followed up with his own firsthand experiences. Gengetsu Hōzuki gave insight on how to counter Sharingan illusions with mist. The future Second Raikage detailed how to disrupt chakra flow with lightning-enhanced grapples. Shamon of Sunagakure offered sealing formations that could slow Madara's movements.

Each piece of the puzzle clicked into place. They were different men from different lands, but on this day, their minds worked as one.

The plan was simple and ruthless: Strike before Madara could activate Susanoo. No hesitation. No delay. Overwhelm him with a coordinated assault and force him into a sealed state before he could unleash his full power.

"Alright then. That's the plan," Mū concluded as he glanced across the room. "Let's give it everything, for the peace of the shinobi world."

"For the peace of the shinobi world!"

The chant echoed throughout the temple, firm and resolute. Yet behind each voice, other thoughts stirred. Revenge. Ambition. Old grudges. No one truly believed in peace, not yet. But for now, eliminating Madara aligned with all their goals.

…

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Madara walked calmly down a shaded forest path, the steel of his sandals clicking softly against the dirt and stone. His war fan and scythe were strapped across his back, swaying lightly with each step. His eyes remained forward, unbothered.

But then, a figure leaning against a tree in the distance caught his attention.

Madara's pace slowed.

His eyes narrowed.

Recognition struck him like a thunderclap, and with it came a surge of pure fury.

"You!? You damn bastard, you're still alive?!" His voice cut through the air, low and sharp like a drawn blade.

"Well, well. Long time no see, old pal Madara. Gotten rich lately?" Mū grinned, his tone full of mockery.

"This will now be your end!!" Madara's smile turned horrendous.

"You never answer when I call!"

"Fire Style: Majestic Destroyer Flame!"

Madara's roar cracked the sky as he spewed a massive inferno from his mouth. The fire surged forward, devouring everything in its path. Trees exploded into ash as the blaze tore through the forest like a living beast. But that wasn't enough. With a casual flick of his war fan, Madara twisted the flames into a swirling tornado of fire, an angry vortex that scorched the earth as it danced.

"DIE! YOU PIECE OF FILTH!"

This wasn't a duel to Madara anymore. No honor, no patience, no mercy. He wanted Mū dead, fast and without restraint.

And then, calm, collected, and maddeningly casual, a voice floated down from above.

"Jeez, Madara. When did you get so hotheaded?"

Mū hovered in the air, suspended mid-sky. His long bandages flapped in the wind like ghostly tails as he gazed down at the flaming wreckage with no visible concern.

Whoosh!

In a flash, Madara flickered and reappeared beside him, foot already arcing into a vicious kick.

Boom!

The air rippled as a shockwave burst out, dust and smoke exploding around them.

"Earth Style: Strong Subjugation Technique!"

The ground trembled. A massive stone golem surged upward, towering with brute strength. Without pause, it slammed its heavy fist toward Madara.

But Madara's Susanoo arm burst forth just as quickly, meeting the punch with monstrous force.

CRACK!

The golem's arm shattered into crumbling rubble, fragments pelting the landscape like shrapnel.

"Die!"

Madara flickered again, now right in front of Mū, his blade flashing downward in a deadly arc.

Splurt!

The blade hit, but instead of flesh, it tore through feathers. Mū dissolved into a flurry of black crows, each scattering in different directions before vanishing into the wind.

Madara's Mangekyō spun like a storm.

"Behind you."

The real Mū reappeared, with a kunai aimed at Madara's back in a deadly strike. But Madara didn't flinch. A cold smirk crossed his lips. He had seen this coming.

"Then why not look behind you?"

Whoosh!

Mū's eyes widened. The Madara in front of him vanished in a blink.

No, the real one was behind him now.

Mū reacted instantly, whipping a kunai backward in a sharp arc without turning his head. Madara tilted just enough to avoid the blade, his frown tightening slightly.

Why such a predictable move?

Then his gaze locked on the kunai as it spun. His Eternal Mangekyō focused and froze it. Etched into the blade was a seal. Intricate. Familiar.

"This... Flying Thunder God?"

Madara's eyes narrowed, flaring with sudden intensity.

This formula was burned into his memory. He could never forget it, not after what it had cost him. His own brother had died to that jutsu. Flying Thunder God. There was no mistaking it.

But how? How the hell was Mū using it? That technique belonged to Tobirama Senju. Had he…?

Madara's eyes flared as the realization struck like lightning. In a blur, he launched an attack in the direction of the kunai, just as,

Flash!

Tobirama appeared right in front of him, eyes locked on target.

"Flying Thunder God Slash!"

Splurt!

Madara's hair fluttered in the air, one clean strand, severed mid-swing. But the retaliation was instant. Madara's scythe crashed against Tobirama's chestplate, shattering it in a burst of metal.

Both men sprang apart, instinctively creating space.

Tobirama landed beside Mū, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with a casual flick of his wrist.

Mū raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, Tobirama, are you holding back or what...?"

Tobirama snapped, irritated. "Idiot! Do you think the Mangekyō has weak vision? He tracks everything. If it were that easy, I'd have taken his head off already!"

Across from them, Madara stood seething. His face had darkened completely.

"Tobirama… you filthy traitor! Siding with outsiders just to set a trap for me?!" His voice hissed with venom, eyes glowing with cold rage.

"If it weren't for Hashirama, you'd be a corpse already!" But Tobirama didn't flinch. His tone was even, words sharp and unrelenting.

"Madara, this was my brother's order." Tobirama narrowed his eyes, "You're too dangerous. You threaten the village. For Konoha's sake, I have no choice."

Mū's mouth curled into a quiet smirk.

Nice hit.

Tobirama had struck the softest part of Madara's armor, his heart.

And it showed. For a split second, the warlord's composure cracked. His Mangekyō lost that murderous glint, the light behind them dimming.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

His chest clenched painfully, something breaking inside him.

Hashirama… sent someone to kill me?

The thought echoed through his mind like poison, tightening around his heart. His blood ran cold.

If that really was the truth... If Hashirama had truly given that order...

Then maybe, even Madara Uchiha, the infamous demon of the battlefield, might just curl up at night, alone, and cry quietly into his pillow.