I have a lot to say, but I'll put it at the end. Enjoy.

Legacy of Wickedness

Death should have been the end. In death, the bliss of nothingness should have embraced him, ceasing everything that he was in an instant. He had defied death more times than most, refusing to succumb to his unfortunate mortality or outright rewriting his own end. But that was before, before he understood just how ignorant and foolish he was.

As a child, all he had wished for was peace. A world without pointless murder and suffering – that was his dream, his aspiration. But the cruelties of the world he was born into twisted and marred his mind. The loss of those close to his heart poisoned him, birthing hate in the once peaceful child. With every loss, the darkness suffocating him grew even darker, thicker. His dreams of a better world became just that, dreams, and the reality of his situation slammed into him. He had to live his nightmare, only ever finding rest in the dreams that lessened in number over the years until they were completely gone altogether.

And then he was alone, the last of his family taken from him too. His people, the very people he had sworn to safeguard to his dying breath, turned their backs on him, forsaking him in favor of the "new world" he had helped create. In hindsight, the Shinobi Villages were probably the best and worst thing to ever happen to the land. While saving and uniting many, it also gave more firepower to be used in larger wars, the kind that the planet just wasn't ready to handle. But they didn't care, none of them did. No one ever stopped to think what certain actions could cause in the future. It was so true when they say the worst kinds of evil are built on the best of intentions.

He was, unfortunately, intimately familiar with this saying.

He had thought that humanity could never attain peace, could never end the perpetual suffering. The world was so bleak, covered – no, drowned in darkness. The world was mad, and it would take a madman to save it from itself. So that's what he was determined to do. He was going to strip everyone and everything of the lie called free will. He was going to change reality, reshape it in what he thought was correct, where there was no winners because there was no losers. It was absolute harmony of the human race through unadulterated subjugation. He was going to stay within the shadows and will humanity to live in synergy.

Peace through tyranny.

It had all made so much sense at the time, the subjugation, the incorrigible disease known as humanity, all of it. But now, after discovering that he had been used in a scheme so sinister and sick that even he balked, everything changed. The master manipulator was manipulated, used flawlessly like nothing more than a tool. He was one of the most dangerous men in the entire world, able to match a man dubbed the God of Shinobi, and he was played a fool. His "Curse of Hatred" was a bright fire, and they added oil and watched as he lit the world aflame.

Rage, the kind that strikes the fear of god into someone, welled within him, replacing his hate for the loss of his loved ones. He no longer wished to control the planet, no longer wished to once again smile with all the brothers he lost. No, his ambition was very different from what it once was.

Revenge sounded good for a while. In death, one has nothing but time, and much of that time was spent scheming, plotting to return to the Impure World once again and truly scorch the earth. His rage was unadulterated, and so very focused. Everything would be cleansed in the heavenly flames his eternal eyes gifted him domain over. And then once everything was nothing but ash, the moon would be next. The glorified night light would know his Susanoo's blade if it was the last thing he did.

But in time, like everything else, his rage dissipated, vanishing from his vessel without preamble. Revenge sounded so… pointless. Everything… everything was pointless once time got a hold of it. Nothing could withstand it. Nothing. And after such a long time, he finally understood that.

He had then run into a rather strange predicament. Without rage or hatred, and the lack of plans for revenge… what else was there? So much of his life was constant plans of action. A goal was made to further his true ambition – total control and an infinite dream. But now that he was done with such foolish ideals, what was left for him to strive for? True, in death there wasn't really a point, but the eternal nothingness was worse without something to push away the maddening silence. Thought was all he had in death. He wasn't good, or pure. He wasn't allowed to enter the Pure World, not allowed to rest like the one man who understood him more than he understood himself.

It was somewhat strange for him, life after death. Perpetual darkness with but a single, crackling fire and a stump to sit upon, like a campfire site, was all he received after the end. And just sitting there without any meaning or hope was a recipe for disaster.

So he began to think, reflect on his life and choices therein. And what a horrible idea that had been…

For a time, at least.

He remembered the deaths of his brothers, each and every one of them, one right after the other. Bloody and bruised, the corpses of the ones he loved the most filled his head, threatening to drive him insane. But somehow, how, he'd never know, but somehow he was able to soldier through the depths of his pain, pushing past the worst of it.

Next were memories of a slightly better time, when he first met that man, Senju Hashirama. He honestly couldn't remember a happier time in his life than when he was training with that bipolar dreamer of peace. It made him chuckle now, remembering how someone like his rival was stronger than him even back then. He was drawn to Hashirama, like humans to conflict… his cynicism hadn't been lost yet, unfortunately. There was something about Hashirama's ability to smile even when living in their evil world. They were very much alike then, before he lost sight of what truly mattered, before his vision enhanced and he went blind.

He then reminisced of the times he met his best friend on the battlefield. He dreamt of steel clashing against steel, Katon, Suiton, Doton and Mokuton meeting in destructive beauty. He realized that he took too much excitement at the thrill of fighting him, of fighting Hashirama. He mostly lost every battle, but that didn't matter. It was the principle. Hashirama always had to try when facing him, always had to take him serious. Not many could ever claim such glory, but he could.

He then thought of losing the last of his brothers, and once again, he almost fell victim to insanity. After recovering, he seriously questioned the strength of his mental fortitude. If his sanity was so easily broken, just how sane was he? Was he sane at all? Thinking about it would only provide answers unsatisfactory to him, so he dropped it.

The creation of Konohagakure was next, reminding him of another relatively "good" time in his life. The lives of his people were no longer threatened, and his childhood dreams were fulfilled, turned reality. It felt… good to have a home, with so many diverse people and clans. His and Hashirama's village was so popular, others did the same, gathering the clans of their regions and uniting them under a single banner. It was a new age of peace and prosperity. Children could finally live long enough to know the joys and hardships of adulthood. Brothers could survive long enough to see each other men. Konoha was a beacon of hope for the world. Too bad it also turned out to be a poison.

The absolutely glorious death match with Hashirama at what was later named the Valley of End came next, admittedly bringing a smile to his face. While time had plucked his hate and rage from him, it could never rob him of his excitement for fighting Hashirama. It wasn't about hate or rage, it was about feeling alive. If anything, death made him even more thrilled at the thought of taking on the strongest man he knew. He regretted abandoning the village. If he had the chance to go back, he'd probably stay. But thinking of such things was irrelevant now. He was dead, and he'd stay that way forever now. He accepted that finally.

The long years of plotting to subjugate the world came to mind, and he was almost ashamed of himself. He had so much power, so much influence. He could have done something different, something, perhaps, positive. But he chose to trap the entirety of humanity in an infinite dream…

Not his greatest moment.

Then the war… So many people died at his hands because of his twisted ambitions… because of those who pulled his strings. The idea that he was used like a puppet still irritated him, but the amount of life that was lost because of his actions almost eclipsed that irritation completely. He was no stranger to death, to murder and bloodshed, but now, with the time to finally comprehend it all… it was almost enough to make him sick. He wasn't afraid to take life. Hell, it was in the job description. But when people died pointlessly, without reason, was when he realized that there was other ways to deal with things. There had to be. And if there wasn't… one had to be made.

And then finally, when he achieved his ultimate goal and brought the third eye's gaze on the moon, he nearly enslaved everyone. But that's when the true masterminds showed their ugly faces, confessing to damn near every terrible thing in the world. He was played, since the beginning, and he never had a chance. If it wasn't for those two, he'd have been utterly destroyed and the world would've belonged to the real monsters. He wasn't ashamed to admit it, he was thankful for Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha. Because of them, he was able understand Hashirama a little better before he finally let his time come, taking him like it takes everything.

His legacy may be that of wickedness, but he finally embraced his sins, accepting everything he deserved without complaint. His heart, mind and eyes finally agreed with each other. He could now accept that he was wrong. He could accept that Hashirama's way of peace was the right way. He could accept that he lost.

And for Uchiha Madara, that was one hell of an accomplishment.

Sitting upon his lonely log, the eternal fire at his feet crackling, echoing in the never ending darkness that surrounded him, Uchiha Madara simply contemplated. Of a life before his current, uneventful one.

He inhaled, wishing there had been actual oxygen in the place. Exhaling, his brow furrowed.

"Who's there?" His deep, respect-demanding voice left his lips. He hadn't used his voice in years, decades even.

"I believe you already know the answer to that question, Madara." If it were even fathomable, the newcomer's voice demanded even more respect.

Madara's eyes were closed, yet he smiled. It was a small, genuine smile that only a handful of people had ever seen, let alone know he was capable of such a gentle facial expression. "I thought you'd might come, yes." He then chuckled softly. "But then you took so long, so I wasn't sure." His eyes opened, slowly, revealing crimson red eyes with a pattern that only belonged to the legendary Uchiha.

"It took you a while to get over yourself, boy." If anyone but this man had said such a thing, they'd already be dead.

Madara sighed. "Yeah…" he replied wearily. "I guess it did…" The two men's eyes met, bloody red against purple steel, and neither man relented. "So what now? What was the point of keeping me here?"

"Do you fear death, boy?" The man asked, completely uncaring of Madara's glare.

"Death?" Madara began after a few silent moments. "No." he responded honestly. "Death is quick and unbiased. Every man must die, it's a part of life, an undeniable fact of our existence." Madara shook his head, eyes shutting. "What comes after – now that's something to fear. This perpetual darkness… the absolute, never ending solitude… that's something worth fearing."

"And what would you prefer to this?" The man asked. "Would you rather be among your family? Your allies, maybe?"

Madara's eyes opened again to look upon the man before him, the first soul he had seen for so… so very long. "No." He shook his head, face completely serious. "I belong here."

Family? How could he face his family after the atrocities he had performed, all the pain and anguish he caused in the pursuit of his broken and twisted dream? No… he could never face his kin, his blood… his brothers.

Allies…? He had long since lost the right to call another his comrade. No… his solitude was his punishment, one that he knew he deserved.

"This is not a place you can stay forever." The man stated after a brief silence. "You have already completed what you were sent here to do, thus, you must leave." The man either didn't notice Madara's narrowing eyes, or he simply didn't care. "You must move on."

Again, the once proud Uchiha was silent for a few minutes, his mind racing with private thought. Then, he spoke. "Move on where?" he asked. The thought terrified him, not because he feared Hell, but feared he'd be given a chance to be with those who had once called him family, with those who had once called him friend… brother.

He feared he would have to face Hashirama.

Those eyes… Madara could never escape Hashirama's eyes. The disappointment, the sympathy… the forgiveness.

He didn't deserve to be forgiven.

"That is entirely up to you, boy." The man responded. He held up his left hand. "You could go where you now deserve to go, and be with the ones who have been waiting for you." For the first time since the man arrived, Madara broke eye contact, gazing to his left, away from the man. "Or," he began, "you could try again."

Madara's eyes snapped back to the man's, slightly widened. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally broke eye contact once again. "Try again?" he asked. "Try to do what, exactly? Finally burn the world to ashes?" He shook his head. "No thanks."

"Stupid boy." The man practically hissed. "When will you understand that not everything is about you?"

Madara's eyes narrowed again, though he stayed silent.

"Can't you see? Didn't you see it in him?" The man's expression was hard, before he regained his composure. "Fine. You are still blind to the truth. You need to see it again. You need to see what Uzumaki Naruto tried to beat into you, what made strong enough to defeat you." He smiled. It was something that made Madara slightly nervous.

"You'll thank me the next time we meet, boy."

And with that, everything went white.

I know it's been a while...

I don't really have all that much in excuses for those of you who read my other stories. Honestly, I just lost my desire to write. It became more of a chore than something I enjoyed doing, which I found completely ridiculous.

I've also been busy with job hunting. It's not as easy as I had hoped it would be. That, added on top of trying to get back to school, multiplied by many family matters to deal with, and I've had kind of a full plate. Recently, however, my interest in writing has returned, and I've written quite a bit. This Madara idea is actually kinda old, but I really like it.

The problem, thoguh, is that I don't know what to do with it. I could cut the bit at the end out and make it a simple one-shot, but that just doesn't feel right. I was thinking of making it a time travel idea, too. But then I got to thinking that a crossover would also be really fun to write. My intention is making this a Madara redemption story, where he's the protagonist for once.

Unfortunately, I can't decide what I want to do with it. Literally... I've written at LEAST ten chapter ones for this story. One was with Sekirei. Another was with Justice League, and I even had one with Game of Thrones and Dragon Age. I just can't figure out what I want to do with it. So, if any of you care, let me know what you think.

Hero or Monster: I have NOT abandoned it. If it isn't already obvious, I've taken a break from writing it. I will, eventually, get back to it.

Bringer of Peace: The same as above. I will get back to it soon.

The Last Son: Honestly... this story was waaaaay too rushed. I was knee-deep in GoT, binge watching the seasons like there was no tomorrow. The idea I had was a good one, but it eventually became this Hero or Monster copycat, and Marcus, the main character, became this overpowered preteen. I'm thinking about going back and rewriting it. I'll most likely keep the first 2-3 chapters, but completely trash the rest. Still not certain, though.

Taming Hatred: Again, super rushed. I had just watched the movies and it sparked a desire to write something. I didn't own the movies or the books, though, so I didn't have a way to go back and watch/read the material when I needed. I have all the books and movies now, though, so definitely look out for some Harry Potter material. Though, I probably won't be continuing with Taming Hatred. It's crazy, but for some reason I just can't force myself to write smut. Thought I could. But nope. Haha.

Also, I was wondering if anyone has extensive knowledge in both Harry Potter and Dragon Age. If you happen to know a lot about the history and lore of both, please contact me through a PM. I seriously need someone to bounce ideas off of that knows about both.

I think that's all, actually. Sorry for being away for so long. I'm back now. Please let me know what you want to see happen with this story, if anything at all.

Dreaming of the Moon