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Back in the heart of the Akatsuki headquarters, the gargantuan figure of Gedo Mazo towered over the room. The colossal statue bore down on the inhabitants with a silent yet formidable presence. Madara and Itachi stood at its feet, their gazes fixed on the monolith, their expressions reflecting the gravity of their undertaking.
The air in the Akatsuki hideout was thick and heavy, a byproduct of the damp stone walls and minimal ventilation. Every inhale brought with it a hint of moisture and the slight tinge of mildew. The temperature was consistently cold, adding to the room's eerie ambience. Beyond the stone barriers, distant, muffled noises of nocturnal creatures whispered, their calls breaking the silence every now and then. The hideout was isolated, yet nature made its presence known.Just a step behind, Obito maintained a respectful distance, his posture submissive, his eyes observing the two leaders.
Obito's internal state was an enigma, shaped and molded by the very jutsu Itachi wielded so efficiently. Deep within, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts existed, but at the forefront was an unwavering loyalty to Itachi. It wasn't just admiration or respect; it was as if the very fibers of his being had been rewired, aligning him firmly to Itachi's side. To Obito, this new path paved by Kotoamatsukami was the only avenue to realize his deepest desire: a world where he could be with Rin. This singular goal drove him, and being at Itachi's beck and call seemed like the necessary step towards that dream.
Madara's attention veered away from the statue, his sharp gaze landing on Obito. There was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, a mix of admiration and curiosity. He glanced at Itachi, the edges of his mouth curling up in a subtle grin. "Your Mangekyo Ability is truly impressive," he praised, his tone carrying an air of genuine admiration. "Despite Obito's forced loyalty, he bears no resentment. Accepting it as his rightful fate. Kotoamatsukami... Brilliant, indeed."
As Madara lauded Itachi's prowess, an intricate web of thoughts entwined his mind. While he projected an aura of respect towards the younger Uchiha, it was hard to discern if it was genuine admiration or a mask to hide his deeper, more intricate schemes. Every move was calculated, every praise weighed. Madara was a mastermind, with grand ambitions that often went unsaid. He always had an underlying motive, but its true nature remained elusive.
Itachi didn't respond, his eyes still glued to the towering figure of the Gedo Mazo. His face remained impassive, only the subtle twitching of his jawline revealing the strain of his thoughts. "Chakra isn't nearly sufficient," he voiced his concern, his words echoing the worry in his mind. "We only have a minuscule amount of chakra from the Two and Eight Tails and some leftovers from Kinkaku and Ginkaku. It's not enough."
Itachi's desire for the Yin part of the Juubi was unwavering. The depth of his black eyes held secrets, one of them being the reason behind this specific claim. Those who knew him could tell that it wasn't a mere whim. There was an unspoken purpose, an intent behind that demand. But what exactly he aimed to achieve with the Yin part was a mystery, a silent narrative only he was privy to.
Madara, nonplussed by the challenge they were facing, met Itachi's pensive gaze. "You needn't worry about that," he reassured, a glint of confidence in his eyes. "Once the Juubi is reformed, it can complete itself by consuming other Shinobi on the battlefield."
At this, Itachi hummed, a sound more of contemplation than agreement. He shifted his gaze back to Madara, his onyx eyes penetrating. "Uchiha Madara," he stated, his tone unyielding, "I am not Obito. Your petty tricks are useless against me. We each take half. I will claim the Yin, and you will take the Yang part of the Juubi. If you even think about betraying me, I will kill you."
Madara's eyebrows twitched in surprise, a crack in his usual confident demeanor. He locked eyes with Itachi, his gaze intense, measuring the determination in the younger Uchiha. After a moment of tense silence, he nodded, a brief inclination of his head. "That is the plan," he agreed, his voice steady, the underlying tension dissipating.
In the heart of the Akatsuki hideout, the tension was thick enough to cut through with a kunai. The only source of light was the eerie, fluorescent glow emanating from the massive figure of Gedo Mazo. The unnatural light cast long, dancing shadows against the damp stone walls, intensifying the ominous atmosphere. At the base of the statue, Madara, Itachi, and Obito stood, their gazes all affixed on the spectral statue.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Madara finally broke the tension. "The chakra is still insufficient," he stated with a shake of his head, his tone tinged with dissatisfaction. He turned to face Itachi, his black eyes reflecting the faint light from the statue. "We must descend to the battlefield and feed the Gedo Mazo."
Itachi responded with a curt nod, agreeing without a word. The room was instantly filled with a swirl of energy as the trio prepared to leave. The atmosphere became dense with the crackling of chakra as they teleported out of the base, leaving the stone room in a deafening silence.
On the battlefield, amidst the chaos of war, the three Akatsuki leaders appeared like grim specters. Their presence alone was enough to send waves of terror through the shinobi around them, making even the bravest hearts skip a beat.
"Has Tobirama taken control of the Edo Tensei?" Madara questioned, his gaze scanning the battleground for any sign of the second Hokage. His voice cut through the cacophony of the battlefield, clear and authoritative.
Obito, standing a few steps away, responded, "Yes," his tone lacking its usual gusto. He turned his head to look at Itachi, the Sharingan in his eyes spinning in anticipation.
Madara chuckled, a dark and humorless sound. "How truly poetic," he mused, his lips curling into a sardonic grin. "The man who despised the Uchiha clan more than anyone in the world is now serving them."
Obito nodded in agreement, his gaze unwavering from Itachi. "Itachi-sama's control is absolute," he stated, his voice holding a note of admiration. "Except you, Madara-sama, no one was able to resist his Kotoamatsukami."
Upon hearing this, Itachi's stoic demeanor faltered, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by the unyielding mask of the Akatsuki leader.
"And Koushin," he added, his voice barely above a whisper. The simple addition of the name hung in the air, heavy with unsaid words and unresolved emotions. Koushin, the shinobi known to possess an exceptional level of resistance to genjutsu, was perhaps the only one besides Madara who could withstand the power of Kotoamatsukami.
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