Hello! I give my sincere thanks to all those who reviewed and favorited in the last chapter. By the way, Chewy says hello. That, or he's drooling. Well, he also says he is very glad to know that so many people reached out to talk to him. He loves being called cute. Since he doesn't get out much, considering his murderous nature, your reviews really cheered him up. Thanks everyone~
There's a few things I need to clarify: In this story, Tobi is indeed Madara- none of that "I am no-one" nonsense. Also, since Orochimaru is alive, Kabuto didn't turn all Voldemort and there is no imperial resurrection jutsu working at the moment. It's just Madara with his massive Zetsu army and the remaining Akatsuki vs. the rest of the ninja world.
It seems I have left you Madara-less for too long, eh? Even I'm missing the heartless bastard...
Chapter 25- The Awakening.
As his maroon red eyes scanned the battlefield, he wore a hidden smirk. Not a single living soul lay ahead of him and his sinister smile grew, relishing in the pride of having killed all those in his path. The images of the allied ninja falling apart in a sea of blood danced on the back of his eyelids, elating his mood even further.
His attack had been flawless. Instead of waiting for his enemies to come to him, he had left the entire base abandoned, instead sending all of his troops to surround and capture the countries neighboring him. Clearly, they had not been expecting it because they left whole cities vacant. He estimated he had displaced nearly half a million people.
By the time the allies and their 'secret' attack had arrived, they were outnumbered and had all of their exits cut off. The slaughter had been tremendous. Men fell like weeds, crying for a god to save them, and then weeping even more upon hearing no reply.
Turning around, Madara strode back in the direction of his base. Though he had wiped out almost the entire sector of the special forces, he still had to deal with the other factions, which were slowly recovering and advancing his way. Considering they were weakened from multiple other battles, he prepared for another landslide victory. Soon, the world would be his and he could set his eyes on more personal goals. After all, Mika had yet to be by his side.
He stopped for a moment, surveying the damage once more. A few hundred feet away from him he could see a writhing, crawling, blood-soaked mass. Approaching the struggling creature, he noted with mild interest that it was one of the few survivors of the battle. The man, wheezing and coughing up black bile, gaped up at him with a look of absolute terror.
"P-Please, I have a family that needs me. I beg of you," the man pleaded.
Caring not for pathetic begging, Madara did a few hand seals and with no effort, engulfed the man in a ball of flame. A smile tugged at the corners of the elder Uchiha's lips as the man screamed, his skin melting and falling off in hideous blotches. This was a wonderful way to start the day.
...
"Sir, you are in no condition to be moving about. Lie back down, I'll get you some more bandages," a woman with a tired, sagging face tried to convince one of the patients in her tent.
The man, prey to multiple injuries and sores, ignored her heed and stood. His first few steps were shaky, but he corrected himself shortly after and straightened his back.
"I have to go," was all he said as he tugged his armor on and tied his bloody, scratched 'shinobi' headband on himself.
"Where could you possibly have to go that's more important than your health? I have to at least change your old bandages," she insisted, badgering over to him and pulling him down by his arm. He frowned, pulling his arm away in a sudden movement. Then, without saying another word, he marched out of the crudely assembled tent and looked around.
It was morning, yet all of the troops were already milling about and preparing for the next battle. He did not recognize the location and there were no actual buildings around so he concluded the entire tent-filled village had been constructed in the middle of no-where. None of the men he saw looked familiar, reminding him of the tremendous loss he had seen the day before.
"Riyouk!" a voice called out to him, gradually getting closer. He turned around and felt the tiniest sense of relief upon laying eyes on one of his soldiers. There was something comforting about knowing one wasn't alone.
"I'm glad to see you made it," the soldier grinned, accidentally showing his cracked lip and fresh black gape of missing teeth.
"Likewise. Have you heard from the infiltration sectors?" Riyouk cut right to the chase.
The soldier pursed his lips and shook his head. They both fell silent and Riyouk tried to think back to the last day's events. They had been attacked much earlier than expected and he was sure they were defeated before the other sectors had even arrived at the back of the base. Sighing, he realized the mission was probably a failure. If the battle ended before they arrived, it meant there was no distraction in place. There was no doubt that everyone was either dead, or had fled deep into the wilderness.
Finally, the soldier's head snapped up and he said, "The army leaders of these sectors said we're going to battle again this evening. We've got all of the remaining soldiers together. Some people are saying it's our final battle. All or nothing."
The soldier continued to chatter about how everyone was healing up, food was being rationed and people were quickly learning various forbidden jutsus. There was no longer a strict law system in place to uphold banishment of those jutsus and some were even considering it as a way to turn the war around. After all, if one was going to die, they might as well use every since trace of chakra to kill as many enemies as they could. Luckily, there were several suicidal jutsu readily available and they required very little training.
Riyouk closed his eyes and dared not let his mind wander to think about the sorry state of things. If forbidden jutsus were being considered, there was no doubt the allies were getting desperate.
He reopened his eyes and looked up the pale blue sky, void of the pain and torment scarring the land. How he wished that at least this one innocent thing would remain untainted. Then again, maybe he was being a little unrealistic.
By then, the solider had stopped talking and was looking up at him expectedly. Clearing his throat, Riyouk hastily gave his thanks for the sharing of information and then left to wander around the make-shift army base. All of his weapons were mysteriously gone and since his chakra levels were low, he knew he had to snag the sharpest thing he could find.
As he turned along the maze of tents and flipped over every box or storage item he could find, he failed to notice two attentive, feminine eyes following him. The woman stopped, crouched behind a pile of food supplies and did the hand seal for 'release'. In a puff of smoke, she disappeared and within seconds, informed her original that the target had been located.
Far way from the meeting of soldiers, a woman grinned, ever so happy that her clone had just found Riyouk Takashima. Releasing the rest of her clones, she stood from her seat on an overturned carriage and dashed in the direction of her goal. It was long overdue for their second and final meeting.
...
The only sound that could be heard was that of marching footsteps. All of the soldiers were silent, lost in their thoughts. Death, in some form or another, was heavy in their minds, either mocking them or warning them to turn their heels and run. Together, there were 30, 000 of them, less than half of what had been originally. On the other hand, the enemy's army was estimated to be holding strong at 60, 000. It was bound to be a slaughter.
A couple of hours into their journey, the setting sun was covered by a flood of cold, grey clouds. Shortly after, they were drowned in a torrent. The ground beneath their feat turned slick, causing many to stumble to their knees. This was not, in any way, a confidence booster.
Closer to the head of the pack, Riyouk trudged through the heavy mud. His eyes were narrowed as he clung to his hatred and desire for revenge. As one of the few survivors of his sector, he was determined to carry the burden of vengeance. There was no word on how his infiltrator teams were doing and it was safe to assume they were now merely litter on the floor of Uchiha Madara's caves.
He clenched his fists and more rage welled up inside him. Even if it was the last thing he did, he was certain he would get his chance to spar with the enemy. His skin was crawling with the desire to spill blood. No one had the right to massacre his soldiers and get away with it.
Meanwhile, at the tail end of the marching troupe, Mika had her head down low as she swerved around the growing puddles of mud. Her toes wiggled uncomfortably, their crevasses filled with sticky mud. It was just her luck that her boots had holes in them. She was clad in proper armor, but it only made her feel worse because she had nicked it from a dead soldier, leaving the poor corpse to lie undignified on the shattered ground.
The better part of her day had been spent to catch up to the army, and then cautiously slip in at the back. Everyone was so preoccupied with avoiding the quick-sand-like ground that she was sure no one knew she was there. Still, nervousness swirled in her stomach and her steps felt heavier than they ought to be.
No part of her was even remotely eager to be heading closer toward the man who had successfully ruined her life. Any affection she had ever felt for him dwindled to a pile of ashes and she had her heart set on never loving that man again. She did not care about 'the heart wants what it wants' rule; she was determined to fight it to the end. After all, if she died loving the enemy, that would be the greatest injustice of all.
Hours ticked by and the weary darkness advanced, making those at the edges of the army paranoid as to what was lurking just beneath the shadows. Some made nervous conversation, while others slinked toward the middle in search of instinctive security. Those that did talk quickly fell into their favorite pastime: gossip. It did not matter that most of the soldiers were men, as everyone had a knack for spreading rumors.
"I heard Madara is a grumpy old man with long grey hair and that the mask is merely covering up his hideous wrinkles," a man whispered somewhere close to Mika.
A woman chuckled and replied, "Really? Well I heard he's lost all of his chakra and that the only thing he can fight with is that creepy statue thing."
Others, having heard the conversation as a result of their proximity, joined in with more outlandish theories. Some believed Madara wasn't even real and that it was all another person pulling the strings. Those that disagreed voiced their opinion that the man was actually Madara's son and that he was trying to take revenge. Multitudes of other rumors arose, each more insane than the last. Eventually, they were just cracking jokes about their enemy.
"Did you see those Zetsu things? They totally have no man parts!" one soldier howled with laughter.
"Yeah! Just like that asshole Madara! He's so old it's probably shriveled up by now!" come the reply and it was followed with more mocking joy. By belittling the enemy, they were getting their minds ready for victory. There was no reason to let their nerves bundle up in a coil of disaster and besides, they wanted to have just the tiniest bit of fun before their certain deaths. Despite their confident smiles, they all knew what was coming.
Mika tried not to listen to their senseless chatter, but one little snippet of a conversation caught her ear.
"I wonder if we'll get to see his bitch," someone said, not too far away from her.
Her head turned ever so slightly and she saw two young soldiers, no more than twenty-three years old. They wore sneers on their faces and each had a cleaver-like sword hanging on their backs.
"What was her name? Mika something? Eh, it doesn't matter. I'm sure she's kissing the bastard's feet right now," the other man replied, spitting on the ground.
"After she escaped, I bet the first place she went was toward him. Bitches like her can never get enough," the first continued, his frown deepening. Mika's shoulders shrunk and she slowed down enough to be hidden by the broad back of a warrior woman. Though they would never recognize her, she had no intention of letting them see she was interested in what they were talking about.
"Yeah. If we see her, we'll gut her and hang her ugly head for everyone to see," one of them elaborated crudely.
"Damn right. But we should fuck her sorry ass first," the first finished with a cruel chuckle, causing them both to exchange knowing smiles. Meanwhile, Mika shivered and felt her face drain of her blood. Was her reputation so bad that even the soldiers wanted her to hang?
She drew in a shuddery breath and concluded that when everything was over, she would disappear. The ninja world was no longer a place she could stay and she knew that trying to clear her name would be useless. Perhaps she would get a small cottage deep in the mountains or maybe, she could take up residence on one of the abandoned islands to the east?
Shaking her head, she tried to focus. She had to keep her senses keen if she wanted everything to go smoothly. Riyouk was not going down without a fight and Madara could be anywhere at anytime. Out of habit, she stroked her metallic bracelet, the same one that allowed her presence to go undetected by Madara. Her entire plan depended on not being detected and she mentally thanked Itachi for having such foresight.
Suddenly, there was a strange tension in the air and everyone stood still. No one said a word, but that was because they could already tell what was happening. As the first fresh screams of battle echoed through the night-covered land, all Mika could do was cling to the idea that one day, she would finally be free.
...
Two tall figures, cloaked in macabre shades of black stood in a large cavern. The backdrop was a towering wooden statue, a scroll tight in its mouth and several closed eyes adorned on its gruesome face.
"Is she coming?" a deep, emotionless voice asked with a blood-red glare. If the answer of the second figure was going to be unsatisfactory, he would have no qualms about painting the floor with said person's bodily fluids.
Not that it would matter much. The floor was already laden with the strewn-apart segments of ninja. The red-eyed man took a moment to recall the afternoon, when he had stumbled upon several batches of allied ninja intruding in his base. He had arrived just in time too, as they were about to set his prized statue ablaze. Instinctively, he reached for his hidden kunai as he remembered ripping them apart and torturing each with his Sharingan just for the sheer pleasure of it. It was a mixture of anger at the fact that they got into his base, but also delight at the actions of being able to butcher them all. That is, all but one.
"Yes. What about you? Do you have him?" came the sly, mischievous reply. A plan such as the one they were constructing needed the utmost cunning and his voice was enough to showcase years of honing that skill.
After scanning the other man's face for any signs of betrayal, the first man replied, "He is in my possession."
In the darkness, a row of shining teeth came into view, grinning at the fortune.
"Now all we have to do is wait."
To be continued...!
At last, the final battle has begun! Things are going to get much, much more exciting from now on. Any thoughts?