The hall seemed to be endless, made of white, perfectly carved stones, bathed in blinding light. A shadow glided down the corridor up to a large throne under a dais. It was the only part of the large room plunged in deep, impenetrable obscurity. The shadow kneeled in front of the throne in a show of absolute deference, like a messenger before their master.
"What news do you bring, Zetsu?" A voice rasped, its tone carrying a hint of anxiety.
It was old, like the dust of the desert, like the bones of the earth, like the relentless surf of the ocean. It was, however, devoid of any power as if emptied of it; a mere echo of what it had been.
"The puppet played his role perfectly. War is on its way." The messenger, a formless shadow, answered.
There was a beat of silence before the voice spoke again. "Good." This time, the voice expressed simple content. "Good," it repeated.
"Master." The shadow hesitated, a slight tremble of its voice betraying its fear.
"Speak, Zetsu."
"Are you certain that it is the only way?" The shadow, Zetsu, urged.
"We have discussed it already," the voice retorted with a hint of impatience. "Some things are irreversible," it rasped angrily. "What is Nine cannot become One again. It's impossible. I've lived enough lives that I would know. My eyes cannot equal his mastery over chakra." The rant was interrupted by a deep, gravely breath. "No," the voice affirmed once more, "the only way is to cultivate another. The Nine can be useful, however. And I believe they will see the merit of our plan."
"As you wish, master."
"Have faith, Zetsu. We have soaked the world in war and blood for so long already. Our time is coming."
The shadow rose his head and blank, yellowish eyes widened in what could have been a show of hope. "Have you… Have you felt it, master?"
"Yes, Zetsu. The tree is growing once more. Soon, its fruit will be ours to consume and my strength will be back."
The shadow bowed its head and prostrated itself even lower. "I'm so glad, master," Zetsu, voice trembling with barely contained glee.
"Now go and warn those who serve us. The Akatsuki will carry out the plan and fools will embroil the world in war once more."
"Your will be done, master," the shadow answered eagerly before disappearing back to where it had come from.
In the shadow of the dais, a man steepled his fingers. He ignored the pain wracking his body, he ignored the low buzzing of the machine keeping him alive, he ignored the weight of the ages upon his shoulders, his power slowly drained out of his fraying soul, the wheel of Samsara slowly but inexorably crushing him by its relentless rotation.
Like all that came before, this life was filled with torment. With each rotation of the wheel, he tried to follow his way, he tried to repay his debt, he endeavoured to right the wrong he caused, so long ago. Yet each time, tragedy struck, inevitably and the peace he so desired escaped him. He saw the world turn to war, he saw his own sons and daughters battle their cousins to the death. Each time, the bitterness and the pain were harder to bear. Each time, his soul was torn a little more.
The blissful blessing of the pure lands was not for him. He never tasted the water of oblivion so his soul was condemned to remember. It was the price for his sin.
Now, however, he was close to escaping his hell. The tree was growing strong and would soon blossom again and his soul would be healed and his power returned to him. He would correct his mistake, finally.
But he wouldn't repeat his. He would not trust humans to achieve and maintain peace, no. He had seen too much to believe in that. Harmony wasn't the way. Rather, he would become their benevolent God, the one he himself had prayed to oh so many times in the past for help. They would be in awe of him and peace would be enforced if necessary. Domination was the solution.
Under his rule, the golden days would return. Nature would heal and give aplenty while men would stop killing each other and live long fulfilled lives. They would escape Samsara. Then, his own purpose would be fulfilled and he would join him.
He missed his brother so very much.
Even though it was his brother who had cursed him.
Immeasurable weariness washed over him and the man closed his ringed eyes. He was so tired. He would sleep a little.
Zetsu travelled through the world, a whisper, a shadow, within in but not part of it. The blades of grass, the roots of trees, the coursing streams felt like a distant memory to him, something he was forgetting more and more. Without his master, he would have disappeared long ago. He was grateful to him for maintaining him alive. It was part of a pact between them: he would awaken his master and his master would breathe life into him for a little longer.
He could see, however, that his master was ill. He could see that the deepest part of his being, his very essence, was damaged, torn, burning slowly in an invisible fire. They could not delay for much longer; the plan had to work.
And in spite of his master's certitudes, Zetsu would prepare a backup. Nine couldn't become One, maybe but they could feed a new sapling all the same.
One after the other, he found the puppets and relayed their orders. All were shinobi, the most dangerous the world had to offer. Some had aspirations, others were broken men, a few were complete psychopath worshipping smokes and mirrors. Useful puppets, in Zetsu's opinion, even if his master insisted they were important in their own right. Some had suffered and still did; those knew the meaning of pain and Zetsu could sympathize, in his own way. Those understood, deep down, that the Way of the World was twisted, broken.
Those desired their own peace and would obtain it. The others would be disposed of; they would have no place in his master's new world.
Finally, Zetsu emerged in a clearing. It was nighttime and two men were seating across one another around a crackling fire. The flames were barely enough to see the red clouds of the dark robes they were wrapped into, much less the men's features.
Two blood-red orbs, however, reflected the fire like some otherworldly cat's eyes and riveted themselves on Zetsu as soon as the shadow appeared.
"It is time to move, Itachi Uchiha." Zetsu said in lieu of greetings.
AN: As I was saying last time, the AU really starts now. You're free to speculate but I'll warn you, you'll probably be wrong. :)
Best,