"Yahiko, watch out" engulphed by a torrent of roaring flames, it seemed as though the spider had indefinitely killed it's prey. Eyes manifested ripples around his iris as his oculars faded a light grey. An abrupt lash of seals conjured "Suiton: Suiryudan no Jutsu" rising from the bank of water began forming a dragon that hurled towards the foe with formidable might. Upon contact it burst, scattering cerulean debris amongst the crowd. Stoically standing, tathering within the wind was his ebony cloak which had sanguine clouds stitched onto the fabric, giving a distinct illusion of the clouds drifting. A loud screech upon the walls surface brought himself back from reminiscing. Oculars peered towards the individual whilst he lurked from behind the shadows undetectable.
"Pick that up and act civilized for a change, Savage." A voice rang out. Upon entering the room, Itachi Uchiha has arrived . Walking without a care, a man who single handedly eradicated his entirety of clansmen, with the acception of his little brother; Uchiha Sasuke. "And you are who exactly?" A smug attitude arose while he asked a brief question. "I understand the entirety of the organization was called here for some meeting by you, yes?" Cold eyes periced the silence as a certain individual began speaking. "Yes. You've been called upon so that we may address and pair teams, upon other things that Madara here would like to explain to the lot of you." Stepping out from behind the shadows stood a tall male whow facial features bore peircinge as well as coal objects . Orange spikes stood upon his dome whilst the rest of his features were obscured by his cloak.
The silver lining in betraying his own kind was the simple fact of being able to get close to He-Who-Led-Them-Astray. It was little moniker Itachi had given the great Elder of the Uchiha: Madara. While Itachi had his suspicions, he had never seen the man face-to-face yet. That did mean he could be wrong, but he doubted it; events leading to this moment of congregation were too well-organized and the scale of which they happened at was pretty high up. Still, the event in which he was wrong meant little difference; he still had his part to play in this grand drama of cloaks and daggers. His younger brother would be safe, but would someday come to take Itachi’s life. So be it, but when all was said and done? At least Itachi could rest easy knowing that the damnation the Uchihas marched to ended with him. Sasuke would be free of the eternal madness, or so help him Itachi would rise-up once more to destroy whoever saw fit to try and destroy his only kin left in the world.
“Enough of these dismal thoughts,” he told himself, straw hat purposely put on to hide the expression of regret on his face.
Footsteps felt heavy, sounded heavy, were heavy with his frustration. Quick was he to dismiss the body-language and facial expression that would betray his emotions. Should this meeting be as important as his intuition tells him, letting strangers and enemies know of any weakness would spell his imminent doom. The iconic cloak of crimson clouds and dark body adorns his figure, set to obscure him entirely other than his face - - even hands were hidden beneath long sleeves. Speaking of his hands, they habitually flex in anticipation and frustration alike, though would cease when the grand room was stepped into. The threshold that separated him and the Statue, not to mention others of this criminal organization was passed so easily is was akin to breathing by second nature.
And behold, he gazed upon an old man surrounded by beings of white tints and peculiar looks. He had little time to think about them though, Hidan’s shouting and scythe-scraping drew his attention away from them.
“Pick that up and act civilized for a change, savage.” His voice was apathetic in tone, eyes already turning back the elder who sat in their chair.
To prevent assumptions, Itachi asked the obvious, “And you are who, exactly? I understand the entirety of our organization was called here for some meeting by you, yes?”
Itachi had no idea of what was to come, but he was prepared to act if need be. Sasuke’s future and freedom came before anything else.
Madara remained limp over his throne as chakra pumped through the receivers from the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path and into his back. It was just like any other day sitting in the den of darkness on life support. He had a lot of time to think, strategize and construct the perfect project. All he needed was a pupil to follow through with his commands until he came back to life through rennibirth. But now wasn't a time to dwell on the later. His remedial task was to wait on the cocoons to hatch from the large flowering tree he produced some few days ago by cultivating Hashirama Senju's DNA with the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path. He vomited the flesh he bit off Hashirama, and grafted it on his wounds. The four subjects wrapped up in cocoons upon the flowering tree seemed to be a by-product of that.
At this point the flowering tree had harvest just four cocoons the size of a human body. Unknown to Madara however, these subjects had already been stored within the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path. While Madara was lead to believe they were imperfect clones of Hashirama, the four subjects were originally human victims of the last Infinite Tsukuyomi, who was tethered to the God Tree until transforming. They were ultimately stored within the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path long ago, where they remained until the statue was summoned by Madara and the use of Hashirama Senju's DNA...or rather, extracted from the statue by Black Zetsu. These subjects However, were cristened White Zetsu's.
While it took only a few days for the already stored Zetsu's to hatch, the original process took some time for the Zetsu's to form completely. Normally, when the shinobi is wrapped up in the cocoon for some few weeks, their clothes begin to disintegrate. They wouldn't feel any shame. Some time later, the cocoon starts to change. It compresses around their form. Tiny details like the outlines of eyes, nose and the bounds start to form over their original bodies arms and legs. A few days after such, their eyes turn from their original reflection into yellow. They wouldn't even notice.
A couple of days later, their hair recedes until it is short enough to be a boy's. A couple more days later, it changes from scarlet red to green. Two months later after such, their skin color takes a drastic change. It goes from a peach color to chalk white, and jagged lines appear all over their frame coming close to a complete transformation. The remainder of their time being spent in the Infinite Tsukuyomi drains their personalities. With their free will gone, they will become what they were meant to be: not a kunoichi nor a lover to a significant other, but an obedient soldier loyal to Madara. And with their alien voices in their mind telling them what they should be, they'd simply smiled and listened. This was their destiny.
After a full years times. Everything that was the original being was gone. Now White Zetsu was in their place. They'd come to look exaclty like the four subjects that hatched before Madara now in this moment. The elder Uchiha focused his attention on the threads connecting to the neck of his subjects as they broke apart. They all fell to the ground, landing on with a thud. After the cocoons fully unwrapped from around their bodies they looked around and grinned at one another. All of them were strong, and willing to serve.
"So, you're up too?" asked one of the brethren.
"Yep," he said with a nod.
Another White Zetsu walked up to him, "And? How does it feel to stretch those legs of yours?"
"Like I've just been born."
"Tch," another White Zetsu said. "It was such a drag, waiting so long to be free."
"Say," another said, rubbing his stomach. "Is there any food around here? I haven't eaten since I got out."
"Maybe later," another said. "If Madara says so, glutton."
Then one of them asked, "Say, now that you're up and about, can I ask you something? Can you still poop?" White Zetsu punched him hard in the swirly face. White Zetsu laughed. Oh, yes. Serving Madara is going to be fun. Amidst their annoying babbling, Madara cleared his throat to gain their attention. The conversation amonst the four Zetsu's came to an abrupt halt, all of them looking over at Madara with a somewhat timid expression.
As he sat there, Madara observed with some surprise, that death was turning out to be not only pleasant, but wonderful; had he ever suspected how much he'd enjoy the process, he wouldn't have wasted all these years waiting for that fool Hashirama to do him in. So, even as he sat there gasping his final breathes, Madara smiled. Even with the convulsing and twitching in his body's last reflexive rebellion against death. We're it not for the gedo statue, Madaras organs would have shut down one by one to maintain the last shreds of life within him, whose powers were massive beyond those of other Uchiha, a clan justly legendary for their prowess on the battlefield. Madara found himself enjoying his end, for a greater cause.
His perception was even more acute with the powers of his powerful sharingan; with it, he could feel each and every single one of his cells struggling to survive and some dying off. His vision began to dim a bit and his hearing became a rush of wind like static. The sensation registered by his nerves was of broken bones and slow suffocation, choking him as his lungs could supply only little oxygen required by his body. It hardly mattered. Despite all the suffering, Madara observed the death of his physical form with appropriate disdain. "How pathetic" he thought to himself.
His impossibly refined perceptions (granted to him by his Sharingan) detected a glance of Hashirama' mind, as his old rival witnessed the vanishing of his dying friend, just as Madara always knew he would. Madara had spent decades coming up with a contingency plan to make sure that Hashirama would do that if by some miracle he had returned to thwart his grand design. Everything could now proceed. All according to plan. Yes, Madara didn't die in the final battle with Hashirama. During the fight which lasts for days, Hashirama and Madara both end up using almost all of their chakra. Madara was unable to use his Sharingan anymore because he ran out of chakra.
While they're fighting with swords (it's called Kenjutsu, I believe), Madara manages to stab Hashirama and thought he won. Hashirama reveals that it was only a wood clone that was stabbed by Madara and he stabs Madara. He explains that he waited until Madara could not use his Sharingan anymore to tell the difference between real Hashirama and Wood Clone Hashirama (Hashirama's wood clones are very difficult to tell apart from the real user without skilled Sharingan). Hashirama thinks he has killed Madara.
Unfortunately, Madara proved his smartness when it was revealed that he had cast a time-activated jutsu (similar to Izanagi) on himself (using his Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan) which would activate a certain period after his death and bring him back to life. Madara had, during the fight, bitten off some flesh of Hashirama and swallowed it. Using this, he harvests Hashirama's DNA and fuses it with himself. He also creates a tree using this DNA (much like the tree that Kabuto creates by using Hashirama's DNA). By being connected to this tree, Madara is able to survive for much longer than his natural lifespan.
Hashirama and Madara were the incarnates of Ashura and Indra, the sons of the Sage of Six Paths (Hagoromo Ootsusuki). This means that the chakra of Indra was passed down to Madara (basically Ocular power - Sharingan) and the chakra of Ashura to Hashirama (basically strength of body, etc.) Since Madara has both powers, he can awaken the Rinnegan - it's like both powers that had been split among the two sons of the Sage have recombined to get back the Rinnegan. This is how he awakens it. Madara is a skilled and smart shinobi, so by reading the 'supposed' Stone Tablet of the Uchiha with his Rinnegan he was able to decipher new messages from it and figured out how to summon the Gedo Mazou.
Madara Uchiha was once a powerful, strong shinobi. You could easily recognize the Uchiha by his sturdy, dull red armour, Uchiha crest on his back, his unruly hair, and his tall, intimating stature. However, the most important characteristic was the blood coloured, fearsome Sharingan eyes. Many would even consider him to be one of the two—the other being Senju Hashirama—strongest ninja ever produced. Madara was once the leader of the prestigious and powerful Uchiha clan, and was in many of his enemies' bingo books. In these books, it was stated that if one ever came into contact with Madara, they should flee immediately. Even Madara knew this himself and he prided himself in being such a ruthless yet famed and powerful ninja.
However, whatever was left of this Madara was nothing but an emaciated and withering husk. Time, as it is to everyone, was cruel to him and now he was a very frail, old man who was being sustained by the gruesome looking gedo statue. However, he still had his mind intact which he was grateful for, as he knew some old people suffered from dementia. Mind you, one had to question his sanity since has been trapped in a cave for over thirty years. While sitting down connected to the gedo statue he reminisced on his early years. Madara remembered back to those many years ago when his friends and family died so unnecessarily in battle.
Together with Hashirama, he had founded Konoha in hopes that his plans for peace could be achieved. But it was not to be. Slowly, the Senju clan came to dominate the politics of the village, corrupting it. Leading to the mistreatment and distrust against his own Uchiha clan. Ending his then dream of peace. Angered, Madara left the village to begin his own plan. The Eye of the Moon.
Having lost their duel in the Valley of the End, Madara had allowed everyone to believe him to be dead. Instead, having gone into hiding, Madara begin crafting his plan to bring about peace to the world and allowing everyone to receive their happy ending. Being too old himself to see his plan for the world to come to fruition, he began to look for alternate solutions. Agents who could bring his will to the world. And when the time is right, reincarnate him so he could bask in the world's thanks for all that he had done for them.
Exactly how fine is the line bewteen pride and arrogance? A perfect plan is one that is focused and refined to the smallest detail. A perfect plan is where all ones pieces fall right into place. A perfect plan proceeds without communication or interference from outside sources. A perfect plan is crafted so that no matter what happens in the end, the creator of said plan is ultimately the one who prevails. But alas, there is no such thing as a perfect plan.
Because such a plan would require one to calculate infinite equations and variables. Something that not even the most intelligent shinobi nor the wisest of sages can undertake. A perfect plan requires distancing oneself from all feelings and ambitions in order for it to be crafted. For even the most intelligent and skilled ninja can become blind to the smallest of details by their feelings alone. One's emotions can cloud perception just as easily ehance them. Sometimes one is so confident in their plans that they fail to see a single mistake. That one mistake alone comes to bring about their undoing. This story is one of great pride just before the fall. This, is the story of Madara Uchiha, written in blood . . .