Deep beneath the Land of Rain, in a hidden underground cavern, an enormous statue lood silently in the darkness.
The Demonic Statue of the Outer Path stood like an ancient god.
Several thick tubes extended from the statue's body, piercing into the back of a frail old man seated before it.
Through those tubes, chakra and life force flowed continuously.
They sustained the dying body of one man.
Uchiha Madara.
Madara's body had already begun to decay with age. Even breathing had beco difficult.
Controlling the Five-Tails during the recent war had pushed his weakened body to its limits.
Yet he had still chosen to act.
Not for necessity.
But for interest.
For the thrill of battle.
For the long-lost feeling of excitent he had once experienced when standing at the peak of the ninja world.
And Ragnar's performance on the battlefield had not disappointed him.
Suddenly, the ground beneath the cavern rippled.
A pale face slowly erged from the stone.
It was White Zetsu.
"Madara-sama," White Zetsu said.
"Before Konoha withdrew from the Rain Country, Rakshasa went to see that boy—Nagato."
"He was accompanied by the Sannin Tsunade and Orochimaru."
Madara's brows furrowed slightly.
He had no objection to Ragnar eting Nagato.
A true powerhouse would never steal power that did not belong to him.
And Nagato was Ragnar's student.
But two additional Konoha shinobi…
That complicated matters.
White Zetsu continued cautiously.
"Tsunade and Orochimaru are both disciples of the Third Hokage. They are influential figures in Konoha."
"They may discover Nagato's eyes."
"If the existence of the Rinnegan is exposed…"
"…your plan could be affected."
Madara fell silent.
His resurrection plan could not tolerate failure.
Not even the smallest possibility.
"Avoiding contact might disrupt my preparations," he murmured slowly.
"But if the secret of the Rinnegan is revealed…"
His voice trailed off.
At this stage, Madara no longer possessed the Rinnegan himself.
After awakening it years ago, he had transplanted those eyes into Nagato.
To replace them temporarily, White Zetsu had retrieved an ordinary pair of Sharingan for him.
Madara now wore only a simple three-tomoe Sharingan.
Yet even that ordinary pair of eyes seed different when placed in Madara's sockets.
Because Madara himself was no ordinary shinobi.
In truth, besides being a legendary warrior, Madara was also a brilliant researcher.
His understanding of cells, transplantation, and biological manipulation rivaled even Orochimaru's future experints.
Suddenly—
Madara closed his eyes.
The underground chamber grew cold.
An ominous chakra began to spread through the air.
White Zetsu instinctively lowered his head.
When Madara opened his eyes again—
Three black tomoe spun slowly inside crimson pupils.
A simple three-tomoe Sharingan.
But the power released from it was terrifying.
Even the Mangekyō Sharingan would struggle to match it.
The Uchiha clan had produced countless three-tomoe Sharingan over the centuries.
But the true difference lay not in the eyes themselves—
It lay in the one who wielded them.
In Madara's hands, even the most ordinary Sharingan beca overwhelming.
At that mont, Madara's chakra moved through the connection he had left behind.
Through the invisible link between his forr eyes and their current host.
Across an imnse distance—
The Sharingan connected with the Rinnegan.
Far away, in a quiet wooden house within the Rain Country…
The power of Madara's eyes awakened.
Through Nagato's Rinnegan.
Madara could see everything.
Every movent.
Every person.
If necessary, he could even seize control of Nagato's body for a brief mont and use the Rinnegan himself.
The plan remained under his control.
For now.
The Wooden House
Inside the house, a very different atmosphere filled the air.
Warm light from the lamps illuminated the small kitchen.
Konan was cooking dinner.
Tsunade was… trying to help.
"Lady Tsunade," Konan said gently, "maybe you should sit outside."
"Nagato and I can handle the cooking."
Tsunade crossed her arms confidently.
"What?"
"You think your sister can't cook?"
Konan forced a polite smile.
She had already witnessed Tsunade pour vinegar instead of soy sauce, sugar instead of salt, and nearly fry vegetables without oil.
Her confidence was impressive.
Her results… less so.
Konan silently prayed dinner would remain edible.
After all, Ragnar had finally returned.
This al mattered.
"Nagato, could you help ?" Konan asked.
Nagato nodded imdiately.
"Okay."
He moved quietly beside her, handing ingredients before she even asked.
Their teamwork was seamless.
Watching them, Tsunade blinked in surprise.
"You two understand each other really well."
She leaned closer, observing Nagato more carefully.
"You're Nagato, right?"
"That red hair…"
"It's pretty rare."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"You wouldn't happen to be from the Uzumaki Clan, would you?"
Nagato froze.
For a mont, his expression changed.
"…Yes."
His answer was barely above a whisper.
The ntion of the Uzumaki clan stirred mories he would rather forget.
But sothing else troubled him even more.
Tsunade's flak jacket.
Her Konoha forehead protector.
Every ti he saw that symbol—
The mory returned.
The day his parents died.
Killed by Konoha shinobi.
Nagato tried to suppress the hatred.
He reminded himself that Ragnar was different.
But the emotions still rose uncontrollably.
Because no matter how hard he tried—
Those symbols would always remind him of that day.
And sowhere far away…
Hidden beneath the Land of Rain…
Madara watched everything through Nagato's eyes.
Silently.
Patiently.
Waiting.
End of Chapter
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