Hashirama's Wood Golem loomed over the battlefield like a deity sculpted from ancient forests. Its hulking frame, textured with the rough bark of an age-old tree, emanated raw vitality and primal strength. The gnarled lines and contours of its body seemed to ripple with life, while its massive arms, ending in claw-like hands, were poised for combat. From its back, sprawling wooden tendrils twisted into the air like serpents ready to strike, their motion eerily fluid for something carved from timber.
Upon its head stood Hashirama, his Sage Mode's markings glowing faintly, a stark contrast to the golem's weathered appearance. The wind carried his hair and the residual energy of his natural chakra, making him appear as a force of nature personified. His golden eyes burned with resolve as he controlled the titan with grace and precision, each motion of the golem synchronized perfectly with his will.
The battlefield remained ablaze with the clash of titans. Madara's perfect Susanoo, an armored colossus, grappled ferociously with Hashirama's Wood Golem. Each motion of their massive constructs shattered the earth beneath them, sending shockwaves across the land. Madara's Eternal Mangekyōu sharingan flared ominously, his hatred and ambition pouring into every move.
The inextinguishable black flames of Amaterasu engulfed the Wood Golem's arms, forcing Hashirama to constantly redirect the flow of his chakra to extinguish the flames. Massive trees erupted from the earth, converging on Madara's Susanoo in a relentless assault. The speed and precision of Hashirama's Wood Release attacks were enough to make even veteran shinobi watching from afar tremble. Yet to Madara's sharingan, every attack was a deliberate motion slowed to a crawl.
From amidst his Susanoo's chest, Madara smirked as his construct drew its blade, slicing through the oncoming wooden tendrils with ease. With an almost casual sweep, the Susanoo bifurcated the trees, the sharp clang of its chakra-forged blade reverberating through the air.
Hashirama, standing atop the wood golem, clasped his hands together, his face calm but resolute. His Sage Mode radiated natural energy, amplifying his already unparalleled chakra reserves. "Madara, this battle is pointless. Why do you cling to this hatred? Even in death, you cannot find peace?"
"Peace?" Madara spat, his voice filled with disdain. "Peace is a lie, Hashirama! The only truth is power, and I will reshape this world with it! You speak of bonds and understanding, yet all they do is breed weakness!"
Madara's Susanoo surged forward, its sword slashing toward the wood golem's chest. The golem raised its massive arms to block, but the sheer force of the attack sent it skidding back, gouging deep trenches into the earth. Hashirama's expression tightened as he infused the golem with more chakra, its wooden frame regrowing and reinforcing itself almost instantly.
The clash raged on, the ground beneath them collapsing into craters, rivers of lava forming from the intensity of their combined chakra. The spectators, those few brave enough to remain nearby, could only watch in awe and terror as two of history's greatest shinobi continued their eternal struggle.
Suddenly, a new voice pierced through the chaos, not shouted but resonating directly within their minds. "I've just got word," Ino's telepathic message echoed across the battlefield. "Sasuke and Itachi did it. Kabuto is defeated. The Edo Tensei is wearing off."
The news hit like a thunderclap. Across the war-torn fields, the reanimated shinobi began to dissolve, their forms crumbling into ash before being carried away by glowing pillars of light. Tobirama stood alongside Tsunade, his usually stern visage softening as he embraced his grandniece. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice thick with emotion. "You've kept our dream alive—Konohagakure itself."
But for Madara and Hashirama, the news was not a cause for relief. Both men paused momentarily in their struggle, locking eyes as they felt the same phenomenon overtaking their bodies. Small pieces of their forms began to flake away, dissipating into the air like embers carried by the wind.
Hashirama smiled, serene and accepting. "It's time, Madara. Let go. Our time has passed. The future belongs to them now."
Madara's expression darkened, his rage boiling over. That calm acceptance, that smile—it infuriated him beyond measure. "Let go? No… NO!" His Susanoo dissipated in an explosion of chakra, and he leaped toward Hashirama, his voice a thunderous roar. "I WILL NEVER LET GO!"
Madara's body, though deteriorating, surged with chakra as he activated his trump card. Kabuto's experiments had left him with more than his Eternal Mangekyōu sharingan; they had gifted him fragments of Hashirama's power—Yamato's body had been used as his Edo Tensei sacrifice. As Madara closed the distance, his left shoulder twisted and warped, transforming into a grotesque, gaping maw of wood. Hashirama's Wood Golem swung its massive arm to intercept, but Madara dodged deftly and landed atop the golem, charging straight at Hashirama. The First Hokage summoned his dissolving chakra to conjure a weak Wood Release defense, but Madara's impact was powerful and his body formed a gaping jaw of wood.
"Madara, no!" Hashirama's eyes widened in realization.
But it was too late. The grotesque maw expanded, engulfing Hashirama entirely. Hashirama's Senjutsu-enhanced power flared, resisting the pull, but Madara's relentless willpower overpowered him. The First Hokage was swallowed whole, his presence vanishing as Madara collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest in agony.
For a moment, the battlefield fell silent. Madara's body convulsed as it fought to assimilate the enormous power he had just absorbed. He doubled over, veins bulging as Hashirama's chakra merged with his own. The two wills clashed violently within him, but Hashirama's acceptance of his death, and Madara's everlasting defiance had given him the upper hand.
"No!" Madara growled, his voice strained. "I will not be erased! My plan… my dream… it will not end here!"
With one final surge of chakra, Madara stabilized. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his breathing heavy but steady. When he opened his eyes, they shone with a terrible new power. The tomoe of his sharingan had vanished, replaced by violet irides replete with concentric rings. The Rinnegan.
Hashirama's voice echoed faintly in Madara's mind, calm and resolute. "Madara… you've forsaken everything. Even yourself." And then he was gone.
Madara ignored it. He raised his hands, forming the seals for the ultimate jutsu. "Rinne Rebirth!"
A blinding light enveloped his form, and when it faded, Madara stood as a mortal man once again. Flesh and blood coursed through his veins, but his power was far from diminished. His Rinnegan glowed ominously as he looked toward the horizon.
"The true battle," Madara whispered, his voice cold and unyielding, "begins now."