The room was dark, a dank concrete square lit by tiny sputtering candles at the edge of their life. A figure moved, furtive, among the papers strewn about as they prepared the ritual. Upon a black marble slab the robed figure inscribed esoteric symbols in wondrous and complex patterns that spoke of death and life and eternal nothingness all at once. The figure reached into its robes and retrieved a vial of dark red ichor which they poured carefully over the slab. A muffled scream echoed about the room, emanating from the darkest corner.
Having finished his ministrations over the slab the robed figure approached the dark corner and dragged out a wriggling human shaped sack and slung it effortlessly onto the slab, eking another shriek from it. Brackish red stained the sack, soaking the virgin cloth as the robed figure knelt at the edge of the slab, hands moving in occult patterns. The figure paused for just a moment, teetering on the precipice of completing the ritual, teetering on whether or not they should do this.
The moment passed as the figure completed the final arcane gesture. It pressed its hands upon the sigils and a dread hiss filled the room. Flecks of darkness swooped from nothingness as covered the howling cloth sack, stripping away the coverings to reveal a man, blinded, gagged and bound. The darkness covered him completely, the last of his milk white skin covered like the last vestiges of purity in the world being snuffed out. As the darkness consumed him it began to take form, slowly at first but quickly becoming recognisably human. The risen figure blinked, solid black eyes staring out of a cracked greyish face, his armoured chest remaining perfectly still in absence of the rise and fall of breath.
The figure kneeling before the slab raised its head, face obscured by the cowl yet still conveying fervent joy, "the ritual is complete, my Lord. The sacrifice, it was enough, you once more walk this world…" their voice was breathy, cracking with excitement.
"Yes," said the zombified Second Hokage Tobirama Senju as he descended the slab and bracingly clapped his student on the shoulder, "that wasn't so bad now, was it"
He strode forwards, the door opening itself before him, and swept from the room as the candles extinguished themselves leaving only blackness behind.
Shortly after his death in the Forever Last War the second Hokage Tobirama Senju rose from his own ashes as the prime immortal to continue his crusade for lasting peace in the world. After winning the war with an unprecedentedly low number of casualties he united all the warring countries under the banner of the Land of Fire and ascended to the imperial throne as His Flaming Majesty and the Lord of Light. For almost six and a half straight decades the Land of Fire has been at his merciful peace, thankful for the improved quality of life his rule allows which is why every five years since the Forever Last War the Land of Fire has held the festival of the end.
The festival of the end…
Naruto Uzumaki stared at the sentence he'd just started, wondering how to continue his history essay. He sighed theatrically and dropped his pen onto his desk and lent back in his swivel chair, he still had three days to turn it into 1500 words, it'd be fine.
He manoeuvred his chair around until he was facing his bed upon which his girlfriend Hinata Hyuuga lay, reading his history textbook. A mild breeze eddied through the room sending a few strands of her hair gently over her cheeks, Naruto felt a sharp stinging pain on his neck.
He slapped at it, feeling something small under his fingers, and picked the beetle from his skin and crushed it between his fingers.
"You'd think they'd have fixed that by now," he said, flicking the beetle's remains away. Chakrasuckers were a particularly irritating mistake that in his opinion should have been wiped out the second they were created. A mutant strain of Aburame parasitic beetle that came about when they tried to cross them with ordinary mosquitoes for some absurd reason which resulted in some samples escaping the lab and breeding.
"Fix what?" Hinata asked.
Naruto scooted forwards on his chair and wiped the residue of beetle ichor and his own blood on her leg, "chakrasuckers"
Hinata clicked her tongue in disgust and swatted at him with the textbook, using the edge of his sheets to rub her leg clean.
Naruto smiled and stood up, stretching. "Want something to drink?" he asked, moving towards the door. She made a noise of dissent which meant she was going to drink half of his anyway. He left the room and walked along the straight hallway which led to the living room.
The apartment where he lived was a series of nine bedrooms arranged in a nonagonal shape, the bedrooms residing at the points with the living/dining rooms at the centre. The rather awkward layout was symbolic of the residents, all nine of them were very special people scouted from all corners of the continent for their aptitude. Or at least the rest of them were, he was just here because of his mother's untimely assassination.
Naruto walked past the living room where B lay passed out on the lounge amid the wreckage of Fuu's last night's party. Those were always fun, her friends would keep slipping him alcohol even though he was still two years underage at sixteen.
Naruto poured himself a cup of lemonade, pausing for a moment as the pulp swirled around the glass and settled at the bottom before drinking the whole glass so he wouldn't have to share. He smacked his lips appreciatively, the whole thing seeming like a metaphor for his life. He was one of only nine Jinchuriki in the world which was a very prestigious position in the military, he was a high ranking officer in his own right and a prodigy at chakra manipulation, his dad was a super important genius who had even improved on several of the Lord of Light's own jutsu, he had the most amazing girlfriend and more friends than he knew what to do with. If there was one thing was would make his life absolutely perfect it would be that his mum was properly alive instead of being an immortal zombie.
But maybe that would be asking just a bit too much.
The cave was dark and the floor rough, sharp rocks jabbed at his feet as he ran towards his master.
Obito Uchiha had never really had a problem with his prior life until Madara had kidnapped him and told him he was an idiot, the Senju were keeping him down and all his family were being systematically oppressed by being made the police and it was just a matter of time before the genocide.
Obviously all these things ended up being true, it was all so clear once Madara had had him murder one of his family members in cold blood and read the Naka Shrine Tablet with his new Mangekyo Sharingan. Sure there was a fair bit more he couldn't read because he didn't have a brother to steal eyes from or a Rinnegan, but Madara filled in the rest for him.
In his hand he clutched a scribbled note tightly like it was something that would make all his dreams come true. Because it was! On the note was the train schedule of one of the Jinchuriki and all they had to do was kidnap him and that'd be one ninth of the way to paradise. And once they were in paradise he wouldn't be an idiot, no Senju could keep him down and all his family would be alive and well. Even his uncle who he'd had to kill would be there. But best of all he would finally be able to ignore the desperate gnawing hunger.
Not that he blamed Madara for that when the mad had removed most of his organs and replaced them with white goop to remove his need to eat and go to the toilet. It was just that he had this maddening hunger and no way to quench it.
He swept his long, greasy matted hair from his face as he entered the main cavern to tell his master the good news. The cavern itself was several stories high and several more wide with dozens of mutant white half formed plant men dangling from the leaves of a massive veiny fleshy plant that towered over Madara's throne.
Obito skidded to a stop and prostrated himself, demure and thankful to be allowed in his master's presence.
"I have it, milord!" he croaked in a voice withered from lack of use. Obito brandished the scribbled note.
The aged man on the throne didn't even move as a mechanical arm grew from his neck and gestured, the paper flying to his grasp. He held it before his purple eyes for a moment, the pupils dancing from side to side, hiding the concentric rings around them behind his lids.
"I can't read this," Madara sneered halfheartedly. "'The wigwams something something Hans zwigro?' A chicken could scratch more neatly"
The paper shot from his hand and hit Obito in the face.
"Read it"
Obito blushed, cursing his poor hand writing that was surely only decipherable to his own eyes.
"The Jinchuriki Han, my lord, will be on train Z-west 2! Three days from now it will pass along the railway closest to us! This is the first time one of them has gone so far out of the capital in, in-"
"Decades, yes," said Madara. "Yes, well done, well done…"
For the first time in years Madara heaved himself from his throne with the vigour of a man much younger than one hundred and four.
"Good," he crooned, "Good… Soon the Jinchuriki shall be captured and the brother of Hashirama will fall. The prophecy will be complete when he dies by my hand, and then," Madara's voice suddenly raised to a deafening shout, shaking the cavern with its raw power.
"When all of them are dead then we shall have peace!"