Sakura first noticed it when the leaves started to fall one by one.

She kept her gaze fixated on the many trees and flowers in her mother's vast garden, which were usually in full bloom all year. Unlike in the human world, there was no such thing as withering or decay in the heavens. At least not as far as Sakura knew. She never once saw or heard of a barren tree in all her 500 years, so why were they shedding their leaves now?

Putting down the book she had been reading, the pink-haired goddess got up from her seat and walked down the steps of her porch and into the garden. As she let her hands graze over the plants slowly losing their colour, Sakura was contemplating alerting her mother but thought better of it.

The countless rejections of her attempts to go out and explore the world on her own came to mind, how lonely and isolated she felt, how much she craved to have just something that is not controlled by her mother, that is just hers, hers alone.

Whatever this was that was plaguing their garden, Sakura decided, she was going to find it out on her own, shielded from her mother's prying eyes.

She continued her stroll through the field of flowers, noticing that leaves continued to fall here and there and that blossoms started to wither slowly, exchanging their vibrant colours for a dull grey. Only when she came to a halt in front of the cherry tree orchard, did she notice something even more peculiar.

While all other plants in her mother's garden were slowly fading away, her cherry trees were not. The young goddess looked puzzled at the myriad of sakura trees her mother had planted for each of her 500 birthdays. Surrounded by a garden of decay, they still stood strong. Sakura couldn't help but think if these trees could be tied to her by more than just her birthday and the same name. Gazing up at the pink petals stubbornly refusing to leave their branches, she realised that she too, stood strong against this decay. And not just that, she stood strong against her own constant frailty.

At first, Sakura thought she was imagining things, but she did notice herself become stronger in the recent months, albeit ever so slightly. She had chalked it up to eating more or sleeping longer, yet she was beginning to doubt that now.

What if that premonition has something to do with it, Sakura thought to herself. All day she had a feeling that her 500th birthday was somehow going to be remarkable, that something extraordinary was supposed to occur. What if this was the night she gained her full strength and found her true purpose? What if the withering garden was a sign of her old, weak self dying and making way for a full-fledged goddess?

A rush of excitement filled Sakura at the thought of finally being on par with the rest of the gods; crushing boulders like her mother and lifting mountains like Jiraiya.

Sakura was excitedly thinking about all the things she would finally be able to do, that she almost missed it: the low rumbling of the earth, the sudden drop in temperature, the foreboding darkness covering the moon and suffocating its light.

It came from the west, she realised. She turned in the direction and stared at the unfurling gloom. Somewhere far behind her, Sakura could faintly make out her mother's voice commanding her to get back inside. As the darkness kept spreading, however, she tuned out everything else.

There was a force in the west that drew her in and pulled her towards the source of the eclipse like a blazing light attracting an unsuspecting butterfly.

Feeling the earth underneath her feet rumble in sync to her own heartbeat, Sakura started walking towards the darkness as if in a trance. A small part of her knew she should heed her mother's warnings, but her mind was completely blank now, safe for the unexplainable need to go west. As her feet carried her deeper into the dark, her form became enveloped in pitch-black mist, obscuring her sight and rendering her blind. Yet she still knew where she needed to go.

Something called to her beyond the darkness, some gravitational pull the force of which she had never experienced in all her life.

Images of her recurring dream suddenly flashed across her mind: a bloody battle long forgotten, a man leaving death and decay in his wake, and crimson eyes staring right into her soul.

The rumbling underneath her feet stilled all of a sudden, and the black mist stopped advancing. Seconds ticked by where the heavens stood still.

Nothing moved.

Nothing breathed.

Silence.

And then, all of a sudden, roaring thunder rolled over the sky and a shattering earthquake split the ground beneath her feet as the ominous force in the west unleashed itself upon the heavens in all its dark and destructive glory.

Sakura held her breath in awe of this spectacle. There was something beautiful in this devastation, she thought to herself, despite its terrifying nature.

Watching the earthquake lay waste to her surroundings, Sakura realised suddenly it seemed to avoid her. While all the trees in her mother's garden were swallowed up by the depths of the earth, she stood in the middle of it all, untouched, unscathed, unwavering.

Again she heard her mother call out to her in desperation, and just as Sakura was about to turn around to look for her, a blazing red light illuminated the sky all of a sudden, releasing a wave of energy that hit Sakura in the deepest part of her being. The young goddess could feel the unknown force bubble up inside her, spreading through her soul and filling every inch of her body.

Never in her life had Sakura felt this strong, this energetic, this fulfilled. It was like a part of her that she had unknowingly been missing all her life had finally returned and etched itself into her very essence.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, her mind was suddenly overwhelmed with images of black and red. She could feel herself getting dizzy.

The last thing she remembered before her body hit the ground was a name that her mind repeated over and over again like a prayer.

Madara.

He could feel it the instant he broke free. As soon as his form materialised in the heavens with an earth-shattering quake, Madara sensed a powerful force in the east that was unknown to him.

Curious, he thought. Despite being banished for centuries, he still clearly remembered every little detail of his old life in the heavens, including all the divine entities presiding in their respective palaces.

How could he forget; after all, he was the one that annihilated most of them.

But this… being was new, he realised, most likely created after his banishment. How intriguing it was that something so young already exerted such a pull on him, Madara mused. Whatever it was that was drawing him in from the east, however strange it may be, it did not disturb him. Madara knew, after all, that nothing withstood the might of a dusk god.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, inhaling the heavenly air that he was deprived of for so long. When he opened his eyes again, he gazed upon the heavens for the first time in centuries.

In the distance, he could see valleys crowned with a sea of flowers, rivers running through fields of green like blue veins, and palaces scattered throughout the lands and sitting high on mountain tops. At first glance, the heavens seemed like the perfect idyll, an untouchable fortress immutable to decay or destruction.

Madara knew, however, that even the home of the gods was susceptible to annihilation. Especially when that annihilation was brought upon by him.

His return to the heavens was preceded by a wave of devastation, and so, on closer inspection, Madara could see that the valleys were rather crowned by a sea of barren trees and withered flowers, the rivers were nigh on dried up, and many of the palaces lay in ruins.

Pleased with himself and the fact that even in his still weakened state, he could cause such level of destruction, he let his gaze wander across the lifeless landscape, until he felt a presence behind him.

Smirking devilishly, he grasped the hilt of his katana and spoke, "I was wondering who would be foolish enough to greet me upon my return. But you always were the foolish kind, weren't you… Jiraiya?"

"It is you who was foolish enough to return, Madara. We defeated you once, and we will do it again."

A deep chuckle escaped his lips. It had always amused him how naïve the dawn gods were, especially when they thought they actually stood a chance against him.

He sensed the arrival of more deities gathering behind Jiraiya; he could hear them ready their little weapons for a fight they were doomed to lose from the beginning.

Madara's smirk grew when he sensed their dread. They were bold enough to confront him, he had to give them that. But underneath their façade, he could practically smell the fear emanating from their weak little forms. And weakness disgusted him.

"Is that all you could muster to fight me, Jiraiya? I'm disappointed."

"Don't worry, Madara. Your grand entrance alerted all the heavens to your presence. Soon, you will be dealing with the full force of all the gods."

Madara couldn't help but chuckle at his retort. He drew his katana and turned around to face his opponents. Slowly raising his head to inspect his enemies, Madara could sense their fear growing as they laid eyes on a dusk god for the first time in centuries.

Surrounded by an aura of dread and death, Madara knew he was the epitome of terror. Even the mightiest of gods would crumble to misery in his presence. After all, there was a reason the dawn gods were only able to seal him all those years ago, and not kill him.

Staring at the lesser gods facing him, Madara could see their eyes widen in terror as they realised he was preparing for the fight. "Well then, let's start with some warm-up exercises, shall we?" He raised his long katana with the blade pointing to the ground. Grinning deviously, he lowered his arm and stabbed the point of the sword into the earth, releasing a shattering quake and splitting the ground into a massive crater. The cracks underneath their feet grew to giant holes, swallowing up some of his opponents.

Madara watched with malicious glee as the lesser gods tried desperately to hold on to the edge of the holes, frantically screaming for help, dreading to plunge down into the fiery pits of the underworld where not even gods are spared the torture awaiting there. A rush of excitement filled Madara at hearing their dreadful screams and seeing their frightful forms tremble upon witnessing his terrifying power.

He hadn't felt this alive in ages. Madara thrived on fear, and after centuries of imprisonment, he was finally going to taste it again.

He picked up his katana and strode towards Jiraiya and the other remaining deities. "Your god wants you to dance for him," he exclaimed with a grin, raising his sword.

In one fell swoop Madara separated the head of a young god from his shoulders, his grin widening as he watched the body slump to the ground to his feet.

His pitch black eyes pierced the trembling forms of his enemies, instilling terror in their hearts and rendering them motionless. Not even an experienced warrior like Jiraiya dared to take a step.

He was going to enjoy this thoroughly, Madara thought to himself.

The war for his vengeance had begun, and he just drew first blood.

As he had expected, they were no match for him. Madara cut through the lesser gods who dared to stand against him with the experience of countless battles won and even more lives taken.

After they seemed to have recovered from the initial shock of his return, many more gods came. Some who had to rashly put their fighting prowess to the test and lose their heads in the process; others who simply had to confirm their suspicion and hurriedly left again after witnessing his bloodlust.

Madara, however, did not care about that; he deliberately let Jiraiya and some others alive. Nobody would spread the word about the carnage he caused better than those who had witnessed it first-hand.

But for now, Madara decided, he would retreat.

Even though he missed the thrill of battle and even though his power was still unparalleled by any of the dawn gods, it would be unwise to overexert himself at this point. After all, Madara knew it would take some time for his true power to return and for his Sharingan to finally reawaken.

Until then, he would make himself comfortable. And what was more fitting for the mightiest of all gods for proving his superiority than constructing his palace on the highest peak of the mountain range overlooking the heavens.

As Madara walked across the plateau he chose for his residence, stones, bricks, and wooden beams whirled all around him, stacking themselves up and covering the ground to form walls and floors. Pillars erected themselves to support the ceiling as if they were controlled by some unseen force; lamps ignited themselves to provide light; gold, silver, and gems placed themselves in every chamber, adorning every corner of the magnificent residence. Before long, Madara was standing on the balcony of a splendid palace perfectly representing his divine nature: cold, sombre, and most of all, pitch-black.

As his long robe fluttered in the morning wind, Madara let his eyes wander across the valleys beneath him. The dark veil of the night was just about to be pierced by the first sunlight from the east. Dawn broke free from the clutches of the night and would reign over the world for the next few hours, until it was again replaced by dusk, in an endless dance of death and rebirth.

As he kept his gaze fixated on the sunrise, the raven-haired god felt it again: that inexplicable pull from the east. It was the first thing he had felt as soon as he stepped foot in the heavens after his banishment. Having been engaged in battle soon after his arrival, he had paid it no attention at the time.

But now, there was no ignoring it. Madara felt the unknown attraction so clearly it was almost tangible.

He could not yet explain what exactly that force was; he could only tell that it was very young, the youngest among all the divine entities he could sense in the heavens.

Taking a sip of his wine, the dusk god decided he would look into this peculiarity as soon as his full power returned.

But for now, he needed to rest.

As sleep took over his mind, Madara's dreams were haunted by flashes of pink and green and an orchard of sakura trees standing amidst ruins.

Note: Thank you all for the overwhelming feedback. I honestly didn't expect this concept to be this well received. I really hope you like the second chapter. Let me know what you think of it. Enjoy. :)