A/N: Here we are, another request fulfilled. I keep my promises.

EDIT: Flames will be flames, I suppose... T_T

Time will tell if folks like this. If they do, great. If they don't...well...I'll be sad.

I don't usually write Madara these days. Pretty sure I've only done it what, twice? Thrice?

As ever, the Embers rule persists. If folks don't like this? Poof! Gone! To the void it goes. So by all means, speak up! Raise your voice! Make yourself heard! Your reviews matter! Really, they do! That's no joke. I don't have days off anymore -two jobs will do that to you- and I'm working myself to the bone.

As ever, I own no quotes, references, themes or memes.

Now then, I think I've kept you all waiting long enough, no? Lets get started.

And with that said, I proudly present Madara in Remnant. What's a god of shinobi to do?

I'll be updating "Take The Girl" tomorrow. Gonna set aside the whole day after work to finish it; because good LORD it is a massive chapter...

"Wake up to reality!"

~?

See No Evil

A dead man raised his hand to the foggy sky and frowned at his fingers.

...why am I alive?"

It was a fair question, he mused. Not some existential inquiry such as why am I here, or why do I exist, but why am I alive?

Why was he, Madara Uchiha, standing here -breathing!- when he clearly remembered dying not five minutes before? He had experienced the icy sting of death as he lay upon the ground. Eyes stripped of their strength, hopes dashed, dream quashed, all the world fading away as he gazed into the eyes of his old friend turned rival, turned friend once more. They had each bid their goodbyes for the last time, taken one last breath, and...

.

..

...things grew hazy after that. He remembered a light...followed by a voice. Calling to him. Three words.

"You must atone."

Atone? For what? Was defeat not enough? Was death not his penance for his sins?

Fate had no answers. Silence reigned supreme.

Now here he stood on a rocky outcrop, alone, yet alive. Blank eyes regarded his surroundings. This was not where he'd drawn his last breath. Naught but mist and mountain as far as his eyes could see. Rugged terrain loomed in every direction, offering no sign of civilization. The ground beneath his feet felt solid enough. Or was it? How was he to know? This be purgatory for all he knew. Or hell.

It would be hell, knowing his luck.

"Hmm." he lowered his arm at last, frown warping into a scowl as he flexed his fingers one last time. "What witchery is this? Edo Tensei again?" A brisk inspection said otherwise. "No, I feel alive." he dug a fingernail into his palm and was rewarded with a bead of blood. But this could be just that. An illusion.

Unbidden, Hashirama's final words rang in his head.

"Our job is to do all we can while we're alive and then bequeath the rest to future generations to accomplish."

He'd always hated the idea of someone standing behind him. But for all that he was alive again. More than that, he could see. He felt the lion's share of his chakra burning within him, beating alongside his heart. His skin was the healthy color one might expect of a young man; his youth had been restored to him and more. He felt lighter. Faster. In his physical prime, or very well near it.

"I wonder...

Dark eyes flitted across the rocky landscape and landed upon a stray pebble at his feet. Good enough. His right hand rose once more, fingers splayed towards it. He felt his eyes burn as he pushed out with his will, bidding it to obey an unspoken command.

The pebble twitched for a moment in quiet defiance, but only for a moment; then it smacked into his open palm.

"Good," he curled his fingers around it, as though to flick it away. "Now then...Shinra Tensei."

His eyes pulsed, his fingers moved, and the stone shot forth like an arrow loosed from a bow. It hurtled into the air and struck an impossibly large bird winging over a rope bridge. The fowl fell with a startled squawk. For a moment he thought he glimpsed someone upon its back. Nonsense, surely.

Still, the shinobi felt the beginnings of a satisfied smile bloom on his face.

Although he couldn't see his reflection he knew his eyes to be moderately intact. Someway, somehow, somewhere, his vision had been restored to him. This required further testing. A flick of his fingers conjured forth the spectral blue arm of his Susanoo. It mirrored his motions; yet despite the heat it offered, his chest felt cold. Why?

A cursory glance confirmed his suspicions.

He didn't have so much as a stitch of clothing to his name beyond his trousers. And it was bloody cold up here. Massaging his bare shoulders afforded him little in the way of warmth. Susanoo was all well and good, but he needed clothes. Preferably something warm and thick. Whatever force had brought him here, it had seen fit to give him neither of those things.

"God has an ill-sense of humor, it seems...

He was still contemplating the matter when a shrill scream of pain pierced the air. On a whim, Madara released his spectral armor craned his neck in the direction of it. A single second was lost in deliberation. One could easily argue that it wasn't his problem, but blast it, he was bored. He'd never been terribly good at sitting still, even in his youth.

A quick leap carried him off the cliff.

Wind lashed at his dark hair as he alighted upon another such an outcropping. His smile returned, slightly crazed this time. This! He'd almost forgotten what this felt like; the singular joy of leaping into the unknown with naught but his wits and skill to protect him. Nothing save his own strength and the wild beating of his heart.

Why, it reminded him of the old days.

A brief pause -and another scream, closer now!- gave him his bearings. Another kick carried him forward, heedless of whatever obstacle he might encounter. The mist was thick indeed, but now that he knew what to look for it did nothing to hinder his vision. Another vault launched him the direction he'd last heard.

His faith was rewarded as his bare feet touched down on an open plateau.

Some yards away he saw them; a woman with dusky skin clad in dark blue robs. She writhed on the earth, clutching at her ruined eyes. Another stood across from her, some ghastly grey creature of a woman with golden eyes. She leveled a bloodied blade at the wounded woman, bearing her teeth in a dark rictus of a grin.

"Ha!" she crowed as she kicked away a strange looking scythe. "You nearly got me that time...

A single glance at the scarlet steel in her eyes told him all he needed to know. This woman, the one on the ground, had been blinded. Her eyes forever destroyed. He knew well the agony of being blind. A muscle jumped in his jaw, and in that moment, his self control slipped. For a fleeting instant he found himself longing to revisit that same horror upon this wretch.

"Eh?" the blade-wielder sensed his ill intent and pivoted to face him. "Who in blazes are you?"

Why answer her? He felt no need. Dark eyes roved about, taking in the scene. He didn't miss the other vagabonds sprawled about. They were none of his concern. He'd clearly stumbled upon a quarrel between this lot. He owed them nothing. A wise man would have simply turned his back and walked away. Despite his brief spark of rage, he considered doing just that.

"Oi! Hedgehog! I asked you a question!"

The world ground to a halt.

...excuse me?"

To be fair, Madara had endured many an insult in his long tenure as a shinobi. Bastard, they'd called him. Cruel, demon, devil, murderer of men. But that word? He'd seldom heard it before. What was a hedgehog? Didn't much sound like a compliment, whatever it was. Hadn't Hashirama mentioned it once? He couldn't remember.

"That word you said just now," he drawled. "What does it mean?"

"Well, your hair kinda looks like one. Its all spiky...

Madara's pride bridled as he reached back and touched a hand to the dark, ragged mane of his hair. He remembered now. Hedgehog. A small rodent with quills. This woman was calling him a rodent. A rat. His right eye began to twitch, alongside his hands.

Ho? He understood now. This woman wanted to die. He would be happy to oblige her.

The wounded woman whimpered at his and feet and distracted him.

"Please...help...

Something twitched in his black heart.

...this woman," he began slowly, "What is your quarrel with her?"

"Nothing personal," the thug shrugged. "My master intends to rid the word of those awful silver eyes." her half-lidded gaze slid to the weeping woman. "Suppose I already took care of hers, so I don't really have a quarrel with ya. Step aside and I'll let ya live."

The woman snarled and flung her remaining scythe in the bandit's direction. It went wide. Points for spirit, he supposed.

"Ha!" her opponent cackled. "Missed again, sweetheart! Better luck next time!"

Madara's left foot shifted just so. Followed by his right.

It was a simple step forward. Nothing more.

Yet it placed himself between the two of them. He blinked, surprised by his own reaction. His own body had betrayed him. Or did he move subconsciously? Had this ant's arrogance roused his wrath? Was something else at work here? He didn't know, and for the time being, didn't much care. He'd made his choice.

The thug, meanwhile, frowned at him. "You're with her, then?"

Madara exhaled in a long-suffering sigh. "It would seem so. I'll be quick."

He raised a hand and willed one of the woman's fallen scythes into his hand. It landed in his palm with an audible smack. Decent, he supposed. It would do.

The wild woman scoffed. "You know how to use that?"

"Come and see for yourself."

The blade-wielder blurred; for all her speed, he saw her coming. She may as well have been moving in slow motion for all it mattered. His borrowed scythe swung up. Then came crashing down. There was a brief flash of light as he encountered something but whatever it was shattered a moment later. Left unchecked, his weapon bit deep into the woman's collarbone and severed it well above the shoulder. Blood arced through the air. It was a fine cut, he mused. Simple and clean. As all things should be.

His foe tottered back, clutching at her shoulder, eyes wide. "What...what are you...?"

Madara offered a faint shrug. "Merely a man."

She balked at that remark and made to respond. No words came, her mouth working wordlessly as blood dribbled down her lips. His scythe flicked out and she died with a low gurgle. Her headless corpse toppled to the floor, head left to roll to his feet.

"You cannot dance, it seems." Madara kicked it away to rest against the crimson cadaver. "A pity. You intrigued me, if only for a moment."

A faint whine at his feet reminded him of the wounded woman. Against all odds, she was still alive.

On a whim, he knelt beside her. "Now, what do with you...?"

She really did look quite the pitiful sight. Her eyelids were intact somehow, but her bloody tears leaking from those lids told him the eyes themselves within were a lost cause. It would take a level of healing far beyond what he possessed to help her now. Killing her would be a mercy. A quick stroke of the blade and she would go to her rest. Surely that would be better than living like this. His fingers tightened around the scythe's haft. By all rights she had nothing to give him. He owed her nothing.

She must've heard him somehow; because she grabbed blindly at his sleeve. "Is she dead?"

He saw no reason to lie. "Yes. I killed her."

"Good!" She hawked back and spat on the ground. "I hope it hurt!"

Even now she showed such spirit! Despite her fear -and he could sense it plain as day- she refused to go quietly into that good night. A thorn of pity pricked at his black, black heart and stilled his hand. He knew what it was to be blind. Still, this was foolishness. Even if he wanted to help, there was nothing he could do for her...

"Please. I don't want to die." her words were a tiny croak, broken by pain. "Help...

...could he?

Madara's gaze swiveled to the bandit he'd just slain, eyes wide open in death. The irony wasn't lost on him. Could he? He was no grand healer compared to the Senju, but he did possess some knowledge where the art of eyes were concerned. But he could well make things worse. The choice was his. A hero would give a grand speech here, say something to encourage this poor girl to live.

His shoulders heaved and he made his choice.

"I've never been a hero...

The scythe fell.


(.0.0.0.)


Maria opened her eyes.

She blinked, squinting against the fading light.

Was it all a bad bream? She remembered pain. Screams. Her screams. Darkness. There had been a voice, hadn't there? Someone else was there? Weren't they? All the world was blurry, her vision unable to focus. With a supreme effort of will she marshaled her resolved and forced herself to do just that. Her skull ached in the worst way imaginable; it took nearly all she had to push through. Even then she curled on herself with a groan, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep.

"You're finally awake." A low, familiar voice trailed through ears.

Although unseen pins and needles still stung her eyes, She finally saw him, then

He was surprisingly young. Dark eyes and darker hair, framing a world weary visage the like of which she'd never known.

She caught sight of herself, her reflection, in his gaze then. Her eyes were not silver, but gold. A familiar shade, much like that of the woman who had blinded her. It confirmed her fears. These were undoubtedly the eyes of her would be assailant.

"Who are you...?" Merely speaking the words drained her.

His brow furrowed.

...no one of importance." You're still tired, it seems." Something softened in his face, though she could barely see it. "Sleep. I will be here when you wake."

Sleep began to claim her, and she yielded gladly to it. For the first time in her life, she wasn't afraid.

Perhaps, had she know the sins of the man carrying her, she might have thought otherwise.

But she didn't. No, perhaps it was safer to say she didn't want to know. She rejected it.

He'd helped her. Saved her. That was enough. Her life belonged to him now.

Ignorance, as they say, is bliss.

Maria saw no evil here.

A/N: Oh, dear.

A somewhat humbled Madara running around Remnant, tearing it apart.

Well. That does it. The world's screwed! Or is it? That's the thing about Madara. He isn't Naruto, and his motives are...neither black nor white. That makes him unpredictable as hell. I think...if I continue this... I'm going to enjoy fun with it; writing someone who the audience won't be able to anticipate. This feels like a breath of fresh air for me.

Of course, that's if I continue it.

As ever, the Embers rule persists. If folks don't like this? Poof! Gone! To the void it goes. So by all means, speak up! Raise your voice! Make yourself heard! Your reviews matter! Really, they do! That's no joke. I don't have days off anymore -two jobs will do that to you- and I'm working myself to the bone.

Well, there we are. Hope you all have a lovely new year, and may it be better than the last.

As ever, reviews are a mighty wind beneath my wings.

Without them...well. I just can't seem to fly.

So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...

...Review, Would You Kindly?

And one last thing:

SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!

PLOT DETAILS AHOY!

YE BE WARNED!

Read if you dare!

(Some are fare flung indeed!

Previews!)

He tilted his head a fraction of a degree to the right. "Do you know why you lost?"

Maria trudged after him.

She'd thought herself strong invincible, and for what? If not for the kindness of a passing stranger, she'd still be fumbling in the dark. Fear clawed at her heart. They might come for her again. No, they would. She knew it, felt it in her bones. Why had she been defeated? She knew the answer.

Maria wilted and hung her head. "Because I was weak...

"No! Wake up to reality!" His voice lashed at her like a whip, causing her to holt. "If you're weak now, then train! Become stronger! Surpass your limits!" There was a red hot fervor in his words, one that hadn't been there before. "If someone crushes your dream, build a better one! An ideal that no one can crush! I have seen firsthand what kind of strength determination creates. I thought I was strong. That everyone was beneath me. Even the weak can usurp the strong. But you?"

He pinched her cheeks. "You are strong."


"This spot will do."

Maria arched an eyebrow. "What will doooooooooooohmygods!

Her words piqued into a shriek as roots rose forth from the ground and took shape.


"I will live. And in doing so, I will learn."


Movement.

Someone was carrying her; her head resting against his shoulder.


He wasn't aging. Or if he was it was so slow that he didn't notice. He couldn't find it in himself to be glad about that.


The boy who would one day become Ozpin looked up.

His jaw clicked open. He pointed.

...mom, is that a meteor?"

Ozzy! Get inside!"


"Uncle Madara!"

"Urk."


Salem tapped the Seer with a pallid finger. "Curious."

What was one to make of this? Curious, curious, very curious indeed...


"That man is no hero. Yet neither is he a villain. He simply...is."


"Amusing."

Madara smiled.

It was not a nice smile, Maria thought.

Still smiling, the Uchiha flicked his right hand outward.

His attacker's skull bounced off a wall. The wall endured. The man's pride did not.

R&R~!