Madara hunched over and let out a ragged breath. His muscles were on fire, his chakra felt like it was being crushed by a boulder, and he got the strange feeling that he was about to black out. There were spots of color and flashes of white. Some even danced around, morphing into shapes and abstract designs that momentarily caught and took away his focus.
His feet were wet. He dully noted, that it was because of how bad he was sweating. There had been times he was drenched to the bone, but this felt like he was caked.
I guess, I'm at my limit...Madara frowned, smearing his forearm across his forehead. Disappointing...
His Sharingan deactivated on his command, and with a start, the towering Susano'o slowly dissipated. Stage by stage, it regressed until it was a ribcage, Mikito landed on the ground silently, coming to his side and only remained silent. She kept her focus on her surroundings, only listening to Madara. He was breathing heavily. Sweat was coating him like a second layer of skin. They had yet to get to the desert and given their current states, they would need to rest again.
She picked up a large leaf about four feet in length, and one and half feet in width. It was smooth to the touch. She slid it across Madara's back. She would have lost her grip if she hadn't pressed her fingers into the edge of the leaf. Madara's body was caked with sweat. It was almost sticking to him. She repeated her action a few more times, certain that Madara wasn't coated in sweat anymore. It was one less thing to deal with. Though he would begin to sweat, it wouldn't be as bad.
Eventually he would get used to it, if he hadn't already. The constant burning of eyes due to sweat. Always being soaked because of sweat and water. Madara had cut off a lot of his hair in favor of maintaining a cooler body temperature. It had also been getting too knotted, where nothing would have been able to get through it even for an inch.
It took several leaves, but finally, Madara was no longer caked in sweat. He remained seated, only gathering his breath and recovering his chakra. Mikito turned towards his eyes, focusing with intent.
No blood.
Mikito smiled briefly, relieved.
He's improved... Mikito thought. Very rapidly, but I was expecting that.
"Water..." Madara rasped, waving his hand.
Mikito gave him a wooden canteen. Madara took it and chugged the whole thing down. He asked for another. Mikito indulged him. Madara rubbed at his eyes, searching for anything that could be amiss. He didn't feel pain nor did he see blood, which were good signs. He was advancing greatly, due to that simple fact. He blinked a few times, not feeling any pain.
Well, he couldn't be totally disappointed.
He took stock of his surroundings, noting how comfortable the green carpet that laid the forest floor seemed to appear at the moment. He was enticed to just lay down. Maybe it would help that weight he was feeling. It was troublesome having bones. It was irritating having organs. It was annoying to be fastened to his body at the moment, if he were to be honest.
With a start, he threw himself back first on the grass, letting out a deep breath. His body deflated, melting into serene relaxation. His spiky hair splayed messily, still managing to barely cover one of his eyes. It was still early, the sky was starting to darken with storm clouds, but it would still be a while before it began to rain. Hopefully it would just be rain and not a thunderstorm or downpour. Resting wouldn't be an option. Not when it rained extremely hard. Certain creatures came out when it rained and he didn't want to see nor encounter them.
There had been a very weird colored beetle that skittered through the jungle before-he had caught it, and Mikito had shrieked before launching her sword right through it.
Frankly, he could sympathize with her.
He waited to sit himself up. His body and mind were in no hurry to return to the realm of active. There was little motivation pushing him forward at this point. His body and his mind wanted to shut down. Sleep was beckoning him with each breath and flutter of his eye. He was a stubborn man, but he knew his limits. Right now, he was reaching his limit. It wouldn't be long before he reached it. Every muscle in him felt like jelly.
Madara forced himself to a standing position, sighing deeply. The smart thing to do would be to rest, and he was certain Mikito would want to rest. He was near certain. He would have to disappoint her and perhaps even suffer her wrath. But, until they reached the beginning edges of the desert, he didn't want to stop moving. For a second he glanced at the woman of his thoughts, back hunched against a tree.
She's at her limit too, it seems. I'm surprised we can still stand at this point.
It was a few minutes before Madara spoke, and it was with a measured tone. Even talking at this point would be result in energy being expended. "Want to rest for a few more minutes?"
"We're so close." Mikito replied, eyes focused on the desert that lay ahead. "If we keep moving, we can get there. We'll also avoid the rain."
Madara nodded, eyes focusing a little more.
Mikito took a deep breath. Madara could tell it was something to savor and use for the stretch of their journey. Mikito had no intention of stopping at all until they were just a hair from her destination. He knew that there was a chance she could black out. She would likely collapse from exhaustion or dehydration. And, he was at much risk as she was to fall.
"You are right. Once we get there we can find a place to rest."
Mikito nodded. "We can move whenever you are ready."
Madara kept his gaze with her own, nodding his head.
"You don't feel it, do you?"
Madara arched a brow, staring at Mikito. He waited for her to go on, but she returned his questioning look with a straight one of her own. Clearly, it was something that should have been obvious to him, yet wasn't. He stretched his senses outward, focusing on any chakra. There was nothing alarming. He calmed his mind, struggling to shuffle away his body's fatigue.
He could feel something. On the soles of his feet. It was faint, barely there. He knew exactly what it was. Madara had been in battle against hundreds of thousands of earth jutsu users and the telltale signs of an earthquake weren't hard to miss. There were differences between a natural one and one forced into existence by a shinobi.
He slowly, carefully, shifted his footing. His toes stretched, and as he breathed, he let his chakra settle.
"Earthquake..." Madara's tone was soft. "Something is causing one."
"Ready to poke the bear?"
Madara met Mikito's gaze. "Whatever that is...It is going to be enormous...Bigger than anything that we have faced thus far."
"I know..."
Madara nodded, clenching his sword a little tighter. "Let's move. We'll stop for an hour to conserve stamina and chakra. Do you have anything that replenishes chakra?"
Mikito arched her brow. "Like Akimichi food pills?"
"Your sister is a genius when it comes to the art of healing. I'm certain you have something that she made on your person in one of those seals."
Mikito looked away from him, scowling.
"Sneaky woman."
"To use it right now would hinder everything we have done." Mikito's voice lowered, eyes growing hard. "We have to..."
"Go on." Madara urged, waiting on baited breath.
Mikito looked at him, then up towards the sky. She thought of flying. She clenched her hand into a fist, inhaled, and did it again. She exhaled, lowering her head. To cocoon herself like a caterpillar, and emerge as a beautiful butterfly. A totally new and different creature, totally unique. Totally different from its larval stage. For humans, such things were impossible...
But, the concept of it.
"We have to shed our shell."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Who we were. Who we are. The past. The future. Our limitations."
"Do you mean the eight inner gates that regulate chakra?" Madara prodded.
Mikito looked at him, eyes a little hard. "Those could come to be a factor. Those weren't always there, those were put in place by Hagoromo."
Madara looked at Mikito carefully. "As limiters so one's power never grew too quickly."
Mikito scratched at her chin, humming softly. "Of course, we can break them. We know ways, but they always deal damage, but, if we can break them over time, so they don't repair themselves."
"We could die." Madara tried not to snap.
"True, but if we survive, there will be nothing to limit our chakra anymore."
"That's not necessarily a good thing." Madara pointed out.
"Nor is it necessarily a bad thing."
There was one thing shinobi feared besides an aerial assault. The idea of someone with no limit to their chakra, nor anything limiting it in the first place. That left far too many possibilities and dangers. If such a person did exist, they would be something similar to the tailed beasts. Having one giant mass of chakra, so potent, so gargantuan, that even Hashirama wold feel fear.
The idea made Madara grin inwardly.
Mikito could always counter him-in battle and words.
"Let's take that risk then."
"Are you sure?" Mikito stared at him, eyes narrowed.
"More than sure. We're all trained to open all eight, only if we have to. Most shinobi can at least open the sixth. I know Tobirama can open the Seventh Gate."
Only monks really focused on the eight chakra gates that regulate and limit the overall flow of chakra within a person's body. Shinobi knew about the eight inner gates, and more over, their limitations. They knew how to break them, and many could break them. There were Hatake and Inuzuka that could break open the Fifth Gate, Shimura that could break the Sixth, just about any clan could break the first Three.
The Senju were known to be able to break the Seventh. Uchina could break the Seventh, but it wouldn't suit them well in battle. Not like the Senju. Uchih would break the Fourth and use that boost in speed and dexterity, with the Sharingan, to eviscerate the foes. There were some shinobi out there that could break the Eighth Gate open, but wouldn't for the simple fact it would cause death.
Many, just didn't find the risk worthwhile altogether. Shinobi had the ability and skill to break them, but didn't based on principle. Risk vs reward. It simply wasn't practical, even in life or death situations...There was no guarantee that breaking any of the Eight Gates wouldn't result in automatic backlash to the person-instead of a boost in power that body would simply shred itself apart.
But, if their hypothesis was correct, perhaps...
Perhaps they could render all of that moot, but it was going to kill them...
If they survived, something would happen, but them dying of exhaustion, dehydration, crushed and squashed, anything gruesome-was far more likely to happen.
But, he was ready for it.
"I'll lead. Unless you want to." Madara focused his resolve, taking a deep breath.
"You can lead. You like to be in the front."
Madara arched a brow, tilting his head. "You mean like skipping in line for dango?"
Mikito tried not to laugh. "Bad example, husband. You don't like when people follow or walk behind you."
"You noticed that?"
"Of course."
Mikito followed him without saying a word a few minutes after saying those words, shifting direction and heading up steep slopes towards tree smothered ridge lines and rifts of mountains in the landscape. There would be little to see up there, even from their current location, because the foliage was so overwhelming. The peaks of the mountains forced the clouds into massive twisters.
They took a minute to rest, then continued on. They did this every so often. They drank plenty of water to avoid cramps and meditated in order to calm their mind and settle their chakra. They still got cramps, and they got so bad that they had to take a longer rest than they cared for. The other cramps were only minor and didn't impede them at all.
"Rest?"
Mikito shook her head, stubbornly clinging to a vine.
Madara marched through the twisted branches with a purpose, growling, clearing a path, even if he couldn't see every single thing that he was around him, he hoped his blade would cut it aside if it was dangerous. He stopped, checking branches and leaves, crouching low to the ground and dragging his fingers across it, touching claw marks on tree bark.
He sniffed the air.
He cut through the tangled masses of vines and creepers with ease. Mikito stayed closed behind him, watching him, observing him, analyzing every little detail of him that she could. She sensed his tension. It wasn't fear, and anxiety, not totally. They were at the end of the treeline, and they had a clear view of the land below, and all that rose up as high as it could.
Madara led them further across the valleys. Crumbled bones covered the ground, and every time they took a step, their feet crushed down on them, turning them into fine dust. Mikito saw a brood of birds resting on a giant skull, their heads hunched down as they watched them pass. She moved with caution, sweeping her sword left and right. Never once did she takes her eyes off of the birds.
"Predators. Not like those scavengers from before." Madara said, sword brandished.
"Yes." Mikito nodded, tone stiff.
They passed an extremely long, giant rib cage. Madara took point, stepping through the hollow space that once housed a creature's insides. He went towards a dip, the dip beyond remained secluded until they reached the edge.
They had seen them from a distance, but close up the giant skulls and skeletons were even more overwhelming. Madara had to wonder what might be capable of killing such giant creatures. Beyond them were more skulls, smaller, larger, scarred by cruel claw marks. Others were chipped and shattered. Others were unscathed, like the creatures had died from natural causes.
Mikito looked around carefully, feeling, sensing, searching for what could lay beneath them in silent wait. Her instincts were nudging her more and more, danger was close. Madara could only look around in wonder and dread. There was a low growl. The sound came from all around at once. Mikito turned her focus around in a quick circle, sword held close by her side.
She and Madara ran together, crawling inside the largest skull they could find and peeked from a jagged wound in its side.
After a few minutes of nothing, Madara stepped out.
"In the distance. Must be a hunt or fight."
Mikito kept her focus on a swivel.
"Can never be too sure."
Madara marched off into the trees, moving with greater speed, dropping down into a giant depression. He ran across it and jumped out the other side. Madara ran, following rising ground, pushing his way through dense undergrowth, hacking his way through foliage, lunging over rocks and roots that twisted out the ground like trees.
He came to an even steeper slope and began scaling up the landmass. He moved with great speed, driving himself hard and furious, even though sweat was already starting to coat his body. He felt he didn't have a lot of time. Mikito was right behind him. They were both determined, he had to keep on pushing. He approached a ridge line, and an even steeper piece of ground. Too steep and sheer to scramble. The surface was obscured by undergrowth.
Madara grabbed a hold of the plants and hauled himself upward. Chakra matted his feet, offering him support on the treacherous surface. His arms began to burn, his hands began to feel like iron, and his legs began to feel heavy. He was used to the pain of exertion-he loved it He thrived on it. There was power behind the pain. There was power in the pain. He had to thrive on it.
Vines and creepers moved beneath his hands, scaling up the rock wall. He paused. The stem started to fall, then it flexed, and ripped. Madara had seen it coming, his body had been ready for it. He loosened his grip, jumping far to the side. His hands scrabbled for purchase. His fingers closed around other hanging plants smothering the cliff's surface.
Madara breathed heavy, easing his racing heart. He pressed closer to the cliff face, shaking, struggling to breathe. He took his time to catch his breath and let his body cool down. After a while he started to climb again. He continued to shake. He was careful to scan the wall more keenly, looking for anything that could be vegetation or creature. Anything could be vegetation and creature.
He reached the ridge line and instead of taking a break, he took a deep breath, and pressed on. Something in his legs gave out, and it was only through reflexes that he was able to catch himself. Madara firmed his stance and marched carefully ascending the cliff. He paused every few minutes, forcing his fingers to maintain their grip.
He finally came upon an opening, but jumped before he could get a good look. This time, he landed on a tree a few meters to his right. It was more than a few dozen meters from where he had been. His feet found purchase without much trouble, and he put his hand on the branch to offer him better balance. He kept his sword in his other hand, nestling the sheath on his neck.
"A series of valleys, once we get through this we'll be making head way." Mikito spoke through the silence.
"You make it sound so easy."
"No one said this was going to be easy."
Madara took point and led them further across the first of the series of valleys. They headed into a thicker patch of jungle, even more massive and tangled than the last few patches they had encountered. Vines and creepers formed snarls and tangles, interlocking with trees and leaves to form walls. Branches and roots were contorted at odd angles, forming sharp puncture points if one wasn't careful when they took a step.
Mikito hastened her steps despite the burning of her body, and violently began hacking into the stalks and stems, carving a path forward. She already had cuts on her legs and arms, and they began to sting. She was getting cuts on her sides and shoulders, dangerously close to her breasts. Sweat was pouring into them, and more than once she blinked to keep the burning liquid from smearing over her eyes.
Her muscles were spent. Her tendons and ligaments were on the verge of tearing. Her bones ached. Yet, she pressed on. She heaved breaths, trudging on. She cleaved through a particularly tangled bunch of leaves and foliage, and she could hear the hiss of a snake. She spotted the flick of its tail as it scurried away.
"This is like a wall." Madara grunted, cutting his arms on nearby leaves. "I can't take a step in here."
Mikito continued to hack a path forward as she spoke. "It's going to get rougher, but we have to do this."
Madara paused in his stroke, looking at her. It was clear that he didn't whack his way all the way through.
"Is there another way?"
Mikito relaxed, taking her sword in a one hand grip.
"I could use a wind jutsu...But, there's no guarantee it'll cut a straight path."
Madara considered it. He looked at his sword. He thought about the prospect of using a wind jutsu. It would definitely cut through a lot of this, but the tangled mess it'd leave behind would do them more harm than good. The simplest way would be to hack their way through like they had been doing up to this point, but if they really did that...
He grunted, growing annoyed.
"It'll be a mess. We might actually get trapped in here."
Mikito nodded. "That is a possibility."
Madara grunted, taking his sword in a two hand grip. "Well, guess it's this way."
It felt like an eternity and then some. By the time they finally got through the vegetation and onto a steady path, they were both coated in sweat and blood. Madara's arms were swelled up with lactic acid and blood, his veins were bulging, and every breath rippled his muscles. His chakra was dangerously low. He was resting on one knee, one hand planted on the ground to keep himself from falling over.
Mikito wasn't as subtle as Madara. She made her way over to a tree and fell over on the grass. The thud resounded around her once she hit the earth, and the clang of her sword rang into her ears as it fell from her hand. The grass was cold, offering her more than a little relief at the moment. It was unfortunate she couldn't move, let alone muster the energy to roll over. The cold grass would do her well, but the heat of her body was leaving it warm after just a few seconds.
Despite being in such conditions, they had been able to make it out.
Madara carefully gripped his sword after a solid two hours of rest, slowly relinquishing his two handed grip. He returned it to its scabbard a few minutes later, struggling to keep his entire body from shaking due to performing such a simple action. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so tired, sweaty, hurting, exhausted, and just plain annoyed. Chopping his way through had taken its toll on all of his facets, his chakra, his will, and he could feel himself starting to struggle against exhaustion.
Now that he was relaxed, everything was catching up to him. This feeling reminded him of his early training sessions with his father and the Uchiha veterans. There was no mercy or remorse in any of them, and he, along with the rest of the children were subjected to harsh and strict training. By the end, a lot of them, even himself, had collapsed...
Breathing had been something valuable.
"Are...You okay?" Mikito asked after a few minutes, voice straining.
Madara winced slightly, feeling sympathy for Mikito.
He lost his strength for a second, and his chin hit the ground hard.
"Yeah, just need to rest." Madara answered, barely able to recover.
They didn't speak for two more hours. In that two hours, they remained where they were. They caught their breath, and once that was done, they continued to rest. They continued not to speak. They had caught their breath, but the burning of their muscles and strain on their chakra was another matter. Their bodies took a while to cool down completely.
Madara shifted, turning himself left and then right at the waist, cracking his lower back.
Mikito exhaled loudly, turning her focus onto the sky. "We've been moving nonstop. That was nice."
Madara nodded in agreement. "We can rest for the remainder of the day."
Mikito considered it, wanted to do it, wished she could do it, and with a sigh, she shook her head. It was one thing they couldn't do. Not right now. They were so close, she could feel it. Something was on the verge of giving. Of breaking. More than anything, she wanted to see it to unfold. She wanted to experience, and if they continued to rest, and not throw themselves into another conflict, it wouldn't happen.
It has to happen. She thought, clenching her fists. This is going to make or break us. Individually and collectively...
"No. We've rested enough." Mikito kept her tone firm. "Let's continue on."
Madara nodded, putting his canteen to his mouth. Once he was done, he regarded her with a serious expression. "We'll eat and drink some more water. It'll be a good idea to get washed up and put on some clothes too."
Mikito met his gaze. "I can agree to that. But, about the clothes."
Madara arched a brow. "What about them?"
"What if I didn't store much?"
Madara crossed his arms over his chest, resisting the urge to scoff. "You aren't that careless."
Mikito nodded.
Madara wasn't sure why it felt like Mikito was conceding to or about something. He felt the need to ask, but thought better. "You're going to put on something. If they're ripped to shreds again, so be it. But, we're not walking out in that desert naked."
"Fine..."
Once they were clothed, they moved on. They began their long and perilous trudge through the desert. It would soon become daunting, for the fact the desert went on for miles and miles, and the north was still a great distance away. True, they were close, but this expanse of desert was enough to break the mind of even the most brazen of samurai and shinobi.
Madara realized this fact after his clothes were saturated in the irritating grains. He had forgotten what sand was like. What the desert was like. To have grains under and on his feet. In places where sand shouldn't be. He ignored the grains of irritation. He centered his mind on his objective. He kept his wits about him. Nothing escaped his perception. If there was a flicker of chakra, no matter how slight, he had in pinpointed.
There were many flickers of chakra. Creatures that thrived and roamed in this barren place. But, they were a different breed. They weren't like the pack hunters in the dark jungles. They weren't like the enormous predators that dominated certain areas. They weren't even like the scavengers that picked and ripped at huge carcasses that were half rotted and wet.
These desert creatures avoided them by all means necessary. They maintained a distance of a few hundred dozen, to several thousand miles away. If Madara didn't know any better, he would say that they were cowering in his presence. But, he did know better. No creature in this place cowered before a human. A human in this place. Shinobi. Samurai. Or civilian. They were like ants compared to these creatures.
Atop a hill of sand, Madara extended his arm to his side. Mikito, who had been flanking him like always, stopped before his arm was fully extended. She shifted her footing and adjusted the sword at her side.
"Is this too simple?"
Mikito blinked. "Excuse me?"
Madara swept his extended arm forward, continuing his march. "We've been walking for hours and every creature is avoiding us."
Mikito had taken note of that. But, she already knew that this far north and near the desert, there wouldn't be as much ferocious creatures lurking about. The air was drier. There wasn't as much water. There was no cover from the scorching sunlight or smothering rains. Even if there were rock formations, small mountains, and rolling hills of sand, there was no vegetation.
The snakes needed the tangled undergrowth and water to seclude themselves before they struck. The pack hunters used the trees and vines to disorient their prey, and at times, use them to capture their prey. The spiders waved webs high in the canopy, with strands reaching all the way down to the vegetation that carpeted the undergrowth. Even the ape creatures, squids, and every other monster needed some form of cover.
But, there were other reasons why creatures would keep their distance. It could be instinct.
"You are right."
"That doesn't answer my question." Madara reminded.
Mikito looked at him with a blank expression. "There's two possibilities. The first, they are all just avoiding us. The second, there is something here that is making them behave that way."
"Something that is making them afraid." Madara noted. "Something that is enormous."
"It's not funny, you idiot." Mikito half snapped.
"I am not laughing."
"But you're smirking."
Madara realized in that moment, he indeed was, and smoothly, he ceased smirking. If there was something that could keep every single creature in this desert away and on guard, whatever that thing was, it had to be gigantic and ghastly. It had to dwarf that monster with the sword they fought before. Dwarfing the tree golem they had defeated earlier, and the lizard it had been battling.
It could be something that they couldn't defeat, in the most technical aspect. There had been a lot of monsters and beasts that they cut down, but just the same, there were many that they hadn't been able to fell. Those monsters and beasts had killed each other while they had hid behind rocks and waterfalls, watching the melee ensure-because even as they were, against those particular beasts, they would have had trouble.
Madara wasn't ignorant of this fact.
"Hopefully we don't disturb something..." Madara trailed off, losing his bout of arrogance quickly.
"I think it is more of a matter of when." Mikito told him, matching his stride. "Given our track record."
Normally, he would agree with Mikito. But, given where they were, and the behavior these creatures were showing...It wouldn't be too far fetched to consider what was keeping them all wary was also of the same nature as them. One that wishes to avoid people by any and all means. That will not attack or even show itself unless it is provoked.
There's a good chance they would be able to continue their journey without any conflict. That would be the most beneficial thing to do. That's the best thing that could happen. It was enough to combat the elements in this place. Having to face off against something that was hungry or angry, wasn't on his list of things to do. He had been on the receiving end of that, far too many times.
He had faced down adults that wanted his head when he was a child. He fought Hashirama and Tobirama. He fought shinobi. He had killed adult Senju with ease, without a Sharingan. But, despite all of that-never, in those situations, had any single one of his foes or enemies believe or look at him to be food. Nothing more than food.
It was purely terrifying to be viewed as such. He would never admit, and each time he faced down a monster and beast here, that terror coursed through him, but so did power, so did resolve, and determination. His will was supreme. No matter of monster or creature would ever shatter his will, not even the basest of human emotions-terror, would chip away at his will or resolve.
But, that didn't mean he was on a razor's edge. From the time he stepped foot into this place with Mikito, he had been on the razor's edge in every aspect. Now, he could feel himself leaning. Perhaps his body would finally give out, and he'd pass away in this desert. Perhaps his chakra would finally fade, and he'd collapse and die of starvation or dehydration.
Truth be told, while all of those possibilities lurked at the back of his mind, Madara only viewed one option to be the most viable. He only had one real outcome despite every possibility. Survival. He would survive and he would become stronger. He would thrive. He would force himself to remain standing, to continue walking, to continue breathing air.
"We can avoid it." Madara realized.
"Why do you sound so sure?" Mikito asked, stopping in her tracks.
Madara gestured at the ground. If there was a chance their traveling would rouse the ire or curiosity of the giant creature, now would have been the best time for the creature to show itself. Yet, it didn't. Perhaps it was slumbering or in a sort of hibernation. Maybe it had been used to a much more moist and soggy climate, that had sweltered through this area hundreds or thousands of years ago.
"As long as we don't strike the ground or send a fissure through it, we'll be fine."
"That actually sounds reasonable." Mikito nodded.
Madara looked at her, one eyebrow arched. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You are not exactly the most reasonable person, Madara."
He wasn't going to argue against that statement. He remembered how his relationship was with Mikito before they got married, and before they battled together. Even after they had battled together and got married, they butted heads. It hadn't been as much, nor were they as rude to each other as they had been. During the early days, he was an ass, and she returned fire.
One of the first things he had said to her was about the Domou holding back the Uchiha. Needless to say, that had resulted in a three hour argument. Mikito went as far as saying that the Uchiha's arrogance and need to flaunt their abilities would only hold back the Domou. Naturally, he had to make a retort, even if she was right to some degree.
"Whatever..." Madara grunted, taking a step.
His foot hit the sand. He felt something shift. It was deep in the earth, like a sort of tremor. He knew it couldn't be a tremor. It was too consistent and not sporadic enough. The depth of the shock also differed every few seconds.
Madara turned to Mikito. Her eyes were wide. She stared at the ground, hands shaking. He couldn't gauge if she was terrified, on guard, or something else entirely different. Quite frankly he didn't want to know. Whenever Mikito began to act like this he knew that there was something that followed. More often than not it was something huge and caused a lot of destruction.
"Mikito..."
If he were glass, Madara swore he would have shattered when she turned to look at him. He took the time to stare into her eyes, marveled at how big they were, and waited for her to answer. To say something. There was a feeling like ice trailing down his throat. It made him clench his hands into fists. Everything inside of him was starting to be consumed with fear.
Is this what Mikito was feeling?
Is this why she wasn't speaking?
"Just our luck..."
Madara blinked, crashing off of his train of thought.
"Guess we're in for a fight...Those tremors beneath us...That creature is moving..."
Madara shifted, finding his base, and brought his hand to the hilt of his sword. "If that's the case..."
He swung his arm forward, fingers snapping and latching downwards. He moved with a frightening ease. One wouldn't have even known, he in fact, just sent three kunai forward. Two stabbed into the sandy ground while one skittered away, finally lodging itself at an odd angle. He knew there wouldn't be much to come from his slight attack.
It wasn't a fireball, or anything along those lines.
Mikito moved so fast, it would appear as if she just phased out of reality like a phantom. She was in front of Madara, hand on his chest, her other hand firmly gripped his arm.
Madara jerked back on instinct, growling. "You..."
"Don't push our luck, Madara."
"You've been holding back that much this entire time?"
Mikito gripped him harder, knowing the look in his eye. Madara was about to do something to get the giant creature's attention. That, wasn't a good idea. Not at this moment at least. They needed to gather themselves before they began the fight. It was inevitable they would be confronted. Truthfully, they were in no condition to get into another fierce battle so soon, but...
Mikito chuckled inwardly. She relinquished her grip on Madara. "We weren't that far apart, Madara."
Madara's scowl deepened. That was true, there hadn't been a lot of space between them. However, the point remained...Mikito moved so swiftly and so fluid. He dared to say she had been some sort of witch. A phantom. That kind of speed wasn't normal. If she had attacked, if she had a blade in hand-he would have been done for in that moment.
With strength, he snatched Mikito by the wrists, squeezing hard.
"I get the feeling you've been holding out on me..." Madara's tone was low and dangerous.
"I might be getting a little worked up. I have a few techniques and secrets close to my chest, but so do you...Like your most recent one." Mikito admitted.
Madara noted how hard he was gripping her, and let up. "Maybe we should sit down for a moment and rest...We don't need to be at each other's throats. Whenever that thing comes up, we'll be ready."
"I agree..."
Ten minutes passed and they were both moving again. Madara took the lead, marching through the sand. Mikito stayed right behind him, trudging through it stubbornly, but not with the same vigor as Madara. She never cared for this kind of sand. The sand on the Uzumaki beaches was white, and the water was so blue that it was see through.
But, none of that was here. This sand was cold and grainy. It lacked any vitality. Any substance. Mikito was thankful that she agreed with Madara to get dressed. She would have been extremely annoyed and angry for the most obvious reason. Sand got in places. It got in her tabi. Somehow it got into some seams of her hakama and it drove her nuts.
She remembered now...Exactly why she didn't want to go north. Why she never went this far. There was nothing here. It was barren. What little life was here, hung on by a thread. Even certain insects couldn't survive in these conditions. It was too dry. There was too much sand. The temperature went from hot to cold, there were sandstorms, wind storms, sand tornadoes, sand twisters, and also the terrible thunder and lightning storms.
Quite frankly they had a better chance of survival back in the thick plexus where the pack hunters constantly tormented them. There was food. Berries. Meat. Water. There was shelter. There were more places to take refuge. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs out here in the north, and if the temperature dropped too drastically, they would be in trouble.
It would take some serious chakra regulating to stem off any harm coming to the body. It didn't even need to be something life threatening. It could be something as simple as a cough. The common cold. But, they would still be effected by it, and it would have come trudging through these conditions no less. For now, they were fine, because there was enough heat in the air.
Hopefully it stayed that way.
"Mikito!"
She shuffled her thoughts away, gripping Madara's bicep tighter. "I'm still right here."
Madara set his jaw. He stomped his foot into the sand, tightened his arm, and pulled Mikito with him. The sandstorm was starting to get bad, and it would be easy to get separated.
"Mikito, about what you were saying before..."
"Which thing?"
"The Earth damiyo contacting us-"
Mikito chuckled. "Well, naturally we will decline. Our goals don't meet up and we are against people like him."
Madara sighed softly, smiling for a second. "I only thought..."
"No need to explain yourself to me, I understand. I cover every scenario and possibility as well."
Madara wiped his chin with the back of his wrist, grimacing from the heat.
The sun was high in the sky, but it would begin its descent very soon. They had been walking for hours now beneath its heat, marching onward without any reservation. They took five minutes to drink water and eat just enough that their stomachs weren't growling for nourishment. The jungles, forests, and overall plexus of vegetation were mere dust.
They were so far behind them. They had been reduced to mere specks, and that was pushing it. If he was to look back, he would have just been able to barely make them out in the sandy, bright light.
He nor Mikito refused to look back. Every fiber in their being burning with discipline. They marched onward. The blazing heat hadn't slowed them any. They wouldn't be effected by the temperatures that were about to drop to near freezing with the setting of the sun. Physical discomfort-cold, heat, thirst, hunger, fatigue-had no significant effect on them.
Short term, at least.
With each step drawing them closer to more sandstorms and desolate terrain...Madara had been expecting chakra from somewhere to grow in its ferocity, to become so overbearing that he'd have to grip his head to gather his bearings.
He was now a walking more than a few thousand kilometers easily enough, he could see the shaded outlines of...Something in the distance. It was like a hollow echo, something like the lingering memory of distant words spoken. Madara wasn't sure what he expected to find in this place, but it wasn't just barren waste.
The shaded outlines began to move, and just as his heart skipped a beat, Mikito spoke.
"There were Domou and Subatsu that left chakra imprints in this world before they passed on. They are as eternal as chakra itself. They stick to the certain locations that meant something to them. These imprints linger for centuries and millennia. They act separate from the person who had died, and are not that person."
Madara arched a brow.
Mikito looked at him carefully. "Chakra living on after its wielder, or the person containing it, isn't unheard of."
"I can agree with that."
Madara focused on his legs. They felt like lead. He could barely feel Mikito's weight pressing down on him. Perhaps, his body was close to shutting down. His will, determination, and his own chakra were keeping him from falling. It was by no means to drag himself through the barren sand, under the sun's oppressive heat, and soon to be embrace of the cold night.
He also surmised that it was the multitude of thoughts he kept shuffling away. Ever since undertaking this he had been questioning a lot of things. Some of his own fundamentals, he even began to question.
The right thing is the right thing, Mikito had said.
If I go by that logic...Shinobi are wrong...They are so wrong, that they should be punished, even exterminated.
Damiyo paid them for their services, but shinobi clans didn't just do that for money. They traded like merchants and craftsman, too. And, just the same, their battles were not just restricted to the times they were contracted. Shinobi had a penchant for conflict and warfare. Their very livelihood depended on the world being in a state of unrest.
Often times, shinobi could cause unrest. Because they took the mission to kill the noble, for another noble, causing that noble's land to fall. Those who suffer will not throw away their revenge. Their will be war, for centuries after. Then, the same thing will happen. Shinobi clans will be contracted, a price or princess will marry-there will be assassination attempts, of course.
But, the nobles weren't innocent either. They feuded, and shinobi just added more fuel to the fire.
Madara bit his bottom lip. He let go of the shinobi creed. He would not follow any of its tenants anymore. The nonsensical self sacrifice. The angst and hatred. The dream of attaining peace, only to see that peace unravel into more war. Only to realize that such peace was impossible. No matter the time, there will always be conflict and war. Enmity, rivalry, strife, greed, and everything pertaining to these things, would certainly, without a single doubt...
Cause discord.
Shinobi caused discord, and now that they would have their own villages, well...Now they simply had a headquarters to stage it all from.
If they didn't accept the Earth Damiyo's contract-they would in effect push themselves into the fray, and make enemies out of everyone from all sides. Those against forming a village. Those for it. Those who want the Water country barbarians out. Those who want to trade with them. Rogue. Ronin. Konoha and Kumo would also put themselves into the fray, and in turn, be their enemies.
Madara chuckled softly. Perhaps he had been worried for nothing before when he first met Mikito and Souji. He thought, certainly, they would push for alliances. And, the two did, but in a different way. He even agreed with the method, and managed to get Touma and Gotou to agree to becoming a part of their coalition. But, just the same, they had many enemies.
They didn't want alliances, totally.
"This reminds me of that time we first met."
Mikito laughed. "Worried about me pushing for truces and being diplomatic."
Madara laughed, strained as it was. "I'm glad we are of a like mind, in that regard."
"That is one thing that will not change."
Madara shrugged. Mikito hastened her steps, ducking her head as the wind began to pick up. Her focus turned from the sun, to the horizon, to the distant sand that covered that very horizon. She felt a sliver of annoyance, wanting nothing more than to devise a jutsu to amass every last grain and spin it around like one giant twister and letting it disperse.
It was getting rougher to travel. The sand was scorching. It was leaving marks on their skin, where it was visible. Minor burns that tickled the skin every few inches. Overtime it would be a problem. They would bleed, and if they weren't careful, they would lose too much blood. There were many ways to die in a desert and dehydration wasn't one of them.
"Are you sure this is where the Gorog is?"
Mikito looked around, staring at the mountains that stretched into the clouds.
"Somewhere...Madara..."
Madara clenched her arm tighter. "I know."
Mikito nodded, keeping her eyes downcast.
Madara tried not to mind her demure answer and demeanor. This was really something Mikito didn't want to do, and he could understand that. She knew the Gorog better than he did. She knew what they were going up against, and at every turn, she had been right. He could admit it. They should have just held their ground, because eventually, the monsters and beasts would have backed off.
By moving they gave them a reason to chase.
Perhaps this was the end result of that arrogance.
Dying in a barren place, where no one or any creature will hear your dying breath. Bones being buried under layers of sand. Becoming a part of the earth itself.
It was a punishment shinobi deserved.
I was a shinobi, but no more. I dropped that creed. I threw away the sham of a system developed by Hagoromo and his sons. I am better than that. I am stronger, far stronger, and I will be stronger than...
"Madara."
He blinked in surprise, turning to look at her.
She met his gaze for a second, then suddenly, looked away.
"Perhaps we are not so different after all."
Madara could see darkness in Mikito's eyes. A burning fury. Seething rage. Unquenchable hatred.
A path of carnage.
He seen that same look when he looked at his reflection.
"Shall we decide now? Only so we can improvise later."
"What do you mean by that?"
Madara narrowed his eyes, focusing on the horizon. "The shinobi. The shinobi villages."
"Obliteration. Nothing less. I never preached about peace like Hashirama. I detest senseless killing, but the shinobi are a problem. Their system, their very creed is a problem. We will snuff them out, simple as that. Kill or arrest them."
"We will be Hashirama's enemies." Madara reminded.
"That is fine. We've been his enemies. Hashirama is the biggest problem. We aren't just facing Hashirama anymore, but Konoha. He can and will be pressured. We need to make a point, if we wipe them out, and anyone who stands in our way..."
"We will be feared. Even hated."
Mikito smiled, kissing Madara on the cheek. "Fear is good. Truth be told. Being loved was never something I entertained. I am not that kind of woman."
"Really?"
"Yes. I've always been more concerned about being powerful. I am happy with who I am and need no one to fulfill me. How will love do that for me?"
Madara grunted. "But, you love me?"
"All because I never entertained it doesn't mean I'm not capable of loving. Although...I would say our reasons are...Much different..."
Madara chuckled. "We're selfish."
"I know you wish to fight Hashirama alone, Madara, and I will give you that...However..."
"However?"
"I need your word, that you won't take the burden yourself."
Madara clenched his fist for a second, exhaling slowly. "I have my pride, but it is no excessive. No single person takes the burden."
But, you want to rush him."
Madara grinned. "As bad as you do."
"If it was up to me...That man would be dismantled my bare hands. I hate him. I hate him almost as much as I hate Tobirama and their filthy father."
Madara felt that she meant it.
The only time he ever heard her speak so rigid and powerful was in battle or before battle. She was truly a different woman in those moments, but even now, that ferocious, ruthless streak she had was beaming through. Her expression. Her tone. Even her body language. He could feel just how tense and ready she got when she spoke about the Senju brothers.
But, there was a harsh tensing of her body when she spoke about the villages. The kind of jerk that one would experience if their sword glided through their foe, and got stuck in their side, and one tore it free with brute force. Mikito didn't like it anymore than he did, and she knew, just like him, that stopping it couldn't be done. It was inevitable. That was the tide moving in.
Madara could feel her body slowly relax afterwards, before they got on the topic of the Senju brothers.
"We're going to need cover for the night."
Mikito snatched herself away from Madara, affronted.
"If we don't find it by nightfall we're going back without a fucking question."
Madara growled, but a sudden spike caught his attention.
Every sandstorm dissipated in an instant. The wind no longer roared. The sun was blotted out. It was like some force of nature opened its maw, and this was the end result of it.
Then, Madara seen something...
A gargantuan bipedal creature. It dwarfed everything he had encountered. Nothing could begin to compare to this monster. It possessed a hunched stance, two human-like hands with twenty fingers. Madara shock waves pulse through the earth as if they were its heart beating, and realized it was in fact the creature's three hearts. Four tusks stabbed through the clouds above, descending to the ground like daggers.
Mikito bit her teeth, focusing on the mammoth muscular midsection and forearms. Her eyes narrowed when they settled on its upper arm and upper leg. They were more skeletal, with gray leathery skin growing around the bones, creating a hole where the biceps and triceps were. Its legs were just as giant to the rest of its body, and it possessed a hock ankle.
Madara looked at the monster's head, face twisting into a snarl of fear. It had a relatively humanoid face with twelves layers sharp teeth and four large bone tusks protruding from the lower jaw, as he had observed before.
The monster roared. It was terrifying. He felt every hair on his body stand on end, his teeth grit, his eyes widened, and his Sharingan activated all on its own. He hit the sand ass first, scrambling back and flipping onto his feet. In the midst of his stumble he could see its meaty hand, but just as he spotted the movement, a surge of cracks forced him to lunge to the side.
Mikito hit the area next to him, hissing in anger.
"It..."
Madara felt true terror. A building horror that was threatening to consume him from the inside out. He hadn't even recovered yet, and if his eyes were not betraying him, this creature...Was holding a mountain its hand and was pushing another one aside with is free hand. The landscape protesting was all the proof he needed, to know, that what he was seeing was happening.
"This is the..." Madara struggled to breathe. "Gorog."
The monstrosity bellowed-its roar shook the earth and was like thunder. Its roar was so powerful shock waves surged off and around it, shattering the mountains it held, and the landscape around it.
"Madara! We can't blast through any of that! The debris is too big!"
"What about our hypothesis from before!?"
That's as far as they could get before they were smashed and slammed. Madara could see hues of red on the sand, it trailed in two different directions...One led to him and the other to Mikito.
She was barely recovering, her left arm was bleeding profusely, and she clutched it desperately.
He focused chakra into his eyes, ready to feel a burst of power...
It never came.
His Sharingan slowly stopped spinning.
I...I can't activate the Mangekyo!?
The Gorog moved forward, sending the whole landscape into a frenzy as it did. Mountains dislodged themselves from the earth against their will, and woefully set their sights on the two unlucky humans to be under them.
"Madara. We're in a bad spot, my chakra..."
"I..."
Madara narrowed his eyes.
His Sharingan was about to deactivate...
I'm at...My limit...
"Know..."