Hinata of the White Lotus

by froznx

On the verge of death in her fight against Neji, Hinata awakens an advanced version of the Byakugan. Now with the power of an ancient ally on her side, she begins to unravel the truth of their world and her place in it. As her powers and confidence continue to grow while facing off against increasingly dangerous foes, she becomes known as The White Lotus. This is her legend.

54. Itachi vs Deidara

Hinata: Byakurenden

Itachi vs Deidara

---

Itachi came to a halt midway up one of the three wolf-head-shaped peaks, the jagged cliffs of the mountain towering around him like silent sentinels. His feet crunched softly against the snow, the sound swallowed by the oppressive stillness of the frigid air.

Turning, Itachi gazed down at the ruins of the former samurai fortress far below. The shattered remains of the once-impenetrable bastion sprawled across the valley like the broken bones of a fallen giant. Smoke still rose in thin plumes, mingling with the icy breath of the mountain winds. This, he thought, was far enough. If Deidara's newly crafted 'artwork' was as devastating as he had claimed during the Summit, it wouldn't reach the others here. This place, distant and isolated, would serve as their battlefield—a stage built to minimize collateral damage.

That was assuming, of course, that Deidara followed him.

Itachi closed his eyes briefly, the memory of their first meeting flickering across his mind. Back then, Itachi had been new to Akatsuki, tasked with recruiting Deidara alongside Kisame and Sasori.

Deidara had resisted, his pride refusing to yield, until Itachi offered him a wager—a match to decide his fate. If Deidara won, they would leave him in peace. If Itachi won, Deidara would join Akatsuki. It was a foregone conclusion. Deidara's overconfidence led him to meet Itachi's gaze, and in an instant, the Sharingan's genjutsu had shattered his resolve. The humiliation was complete before Deidara even understood what had happened.

Itachi knew that Deidara had never forgiven him. Years had passed, but the sting of that moment remained fresh, the bitterness festering like an open wound. It wasn't just resentment. It was a deep, visceral hatred that Deidara had cultivated over time, shaping it into something sharp and volatile. But hatred alone was not enough to blind Deidara. For all his grudges, he was still a tactician, a fighter who knew when to wait for the right opportunity.

So where was he?

Itachi's eyes opened, the red and black of his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan scanning the valley below. The faint movements of distant combat caught his attention—flashes of chakra, the tremors of powerful jutsu shaping the landscape far below. The battles had begun, each one its own chaotic storm. Yet among the myriad signatures, Deidara's was absent. Itachi frowned. That wasn't like him. Deidara's chakra was volatile, almost impossible to miss. He had a flair for the dramatic, an ego that demanded attention. This silence was unnerving.

Something was wrong. The hairs on the back of Itachi's neck prickled as the mountain wind shifted, colder now, as though carrying a warning. The stillness of the air felt unnatural, weighted with a tension he couldn't place. Itachi's instincts sharpened, his body tensing as the sense of unease deepened. Had he miscalculated? Had he, the one so often two steps ahead, walked into a trap instead of luring Deidara into his?

He sensed it before he saw it—the faint hum of chakra vibrating in the air, a soundless warning that only his heightened senses could detect. The source was subtle, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. With the sun hanging high overhead, its light reflecting off the pristine white snow, the entire landscape was a dazzling, blinding expanse. Every surface sparkled with mirrored brilliance, forcing even the most disciplined gaze to squint against the glare. In such conditions, the two small birds made of pure sunlight were nearly invisible, their radiant forms blending seamlessly with the surrounding brightness.

But to Itachi's Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, their chakra signatures were unmistakable, glowing beacons against the vibrant haze of nature's light. He barely registered them before they descended, diving from above and behind—an angle designed to exploit his momentary focus on the fortress ruins below. It was an ambush perfectly timed and positioned, the type of calculated strike he would have expected from Deidara. The moment of realization was razor-thin, but for someone like Itachi, it was enough.

With a flicker, he vanished, his form dissolving into a blur of movement just as the birds detonated.

The explosions erupted with a sound like the sun splitting in two, a deafening roar that reverberated across the mountains. Two massive orbs of pure white light expanded outward, consuming everything in their radius with blinding ferocity. The force tore through the icy crust of the mountainside, vaporizing snow and earth alike. The shockwaves rolled through the landscape, flattening smaller rock formations and sending tremors deep into the bedrock.

The ground beneath the point of impact cracked and heaved, fragments of stone and ice flung skyward like debris from an erupting volcano. The blinding light seemed to linger for a moment, illuminating the entire valley with an unnatural brilliance, before finally dissipating into an eerie silence.

Itachi reappeared further up the mountainside, his feet finding precarious purchase on a patch of unbroken snow. But even here, the aftereffects of the blast reached him. The earth quaked beneath his feet, the tremors triggering a massive shift in the snowpack above. He glanced upward, his Sharingan catching the subtle movements of the mountain's surface. Cracks spiderwebbed through the snow, expanding and deepening as the entire slope began to give way.

The avalanche started as a whisper, a soft cascade of snow tumbling over the edge. Within moments, it turned into a roaring deluge, a tidal wave of ice and debris hurtling downward with unstoppable force. The air filled with a frigid howl, the avalanche's sheer velocity tearing through the mountainside and obliterating everything in its path. Massive chunks of snow and rock collided and fractured, the cacophony echoing like the battle cries of nature itself.

The cascading wall of white swallowed the remains of the explosion's devastation, burying the ground in layers of crushing weight. Itachi's footing gave way beneath him as the avalanche surged forward with relentless force, the ground crumbling into a torrent of ice and debris. He slid backward, his usually calculated movements faltering against the sheer momentum of nature's fury. Snow sprayed around him in a frigid storm, and for a moment, even he seemed caught off guard.

"Nii-san!" Sasuke's voice rang out sharply above the deafening roar of the avalanche. Itachi's crimson eyes darted upward, catching sight of his younger brother silhouetted against the blinding white backdrop of the descending snow. Sasuke was perched on a sleek, futuristic glider—a marvel of technology born from the Asura path of his Rinnegan. Its angular design pulsed faintly with chakra energy, thrusters glowing as they fought to keep him aloft amidst the turbulence.

Sasuke's glider descended with precision, weaving above the chaotic cascade of snow and jagged debris. Without hesitation, he extended his hand—no, his metal hand. The mechanical hand shot forward, propelled by thrusters embedded along its length. The wire connecting it to Sasuke's body gleamed like a silver lifeline, cutting cleanly through the air as it reached for Itachi.

Itachi's hand snapped forward, catching Sasuke's with a sharp clap. The mechanical arm reeled him in, its thrusters whining under the strain as Itachi was yanked off the shifting avalanche and hoisted into the air. For a moment, the world blurred around him, a whirlwind of white and gray, until his feet landed firmly on the narrow platform of the glider.

The glider dipped slightly under their combined weight, its thrusters roaring louder to compensate. Standing side by side now, the brothers exchanged a brief glance. It was an unspoken moment of camaraderie, but also one of unspoken tension.

"Thanks," Itachi said, his voice cool and steady despite the ordeal. There was the faintest hint of gratitude in his tone, a subtle acknowledgment of his younger brother's timely intervention. Sasuke had volunteered to take on Obito, the mastermind behind the enemy forces. If Sasuke was here, then…

Sasuke answered his unspoken thought with a simple nod, his gaze shifting forward. Itachi followed his line of sight, his Sharingan catching the faint shimmer of chakra rippling in the distance. A spiral-shaped rift began to tear open in space-time, warping the air as two figures emerged.

Obito and Deidara appeared astride a massive dragon made of pure sunlight, its body shimmering with radiant energy. The beast's wings flapped with silent menace, scattering trails of glowing particles as it hovered above the mountain's crumbling surface. A wooden saddle, crafted from Mokuton chakra, was fitted across its back, giving the pair a stable platform.

Obito stood with his hands in his pockets, his demeanor calm and infuriatingly casual. Deidara, by contrast, was animated, his hands raised as the mouths in his palms greedily devoured sunlight, shaping the energy into something deadly. His wide grin was manic, his blue eye glittering with excitement and malice.

"How do you like my new art, yeah!?" In the past, Deidara's creations had been molded from clay infused with his chakra. But now, thanks to Amaterasu's blessing, he had refined his art to an entirely new medium: pure sunlight. It was a match made in chaotic heaven, perfectly embodying his obsession with fleeting, destructive beauty.

Sasuke arched a brow, his expression laced with thinly veiled disdain as he observed the dragon of sunlight and its two riders. "What's with your former teammates and their ridiculous obsession with 'art'? First Sasori, now this. Is there a mandatory delusion requirement for Akatsuki membership?"

Deidara stiffened, his entire body jerking as though Sasuke had personally insulted the core of his being. "Ridiculous!?" His voice cracked, high-pitched and indignant, nearly causing him to lose balance atop the glowing dragon. He gestured wildly, his hands trembling with frustration. "How dare you, you ignorant Uchiha! You have the most powerful eyes in the world, and you still can't see true beauty when it's staring you in the face! What's the point of those Sharingan if you can't appreciate art!?"

Sasuke's lips curled into a faint smirk, his calm expression only adding fuel to Deidara's fire. He didn't bother responding, his silence as dismissive as any verbal retort could be.

"I like your art, Deidara-senpai," Obito chimed in brightly, his tone too cheerful to be sincere. He raised an exaggerated thumbs-up, his casual grin contrasting with the tense atmosphere of the battlefield. "Very inspiring."

Deidara froze mid-rant, his face twisting in disbelief before snapping toward his partner. "I wasn't asking you, idiot!" His furious glare could've melted steel, and he punctuated his words by swinging a fist at Obito. The blow passed harmlessly through him, Obito's phasing activated just in time to avoid contact.

"And quit it with that stupid phasing trick!" Deidara snarled, shaking his fist in frustration as though willing it to connect. His cheeks flushed, half from anger and half from embarrassment. "If you don't cut it out, I'll blow you up next!"

Obito shrugged nonchalantly, his grin widening as if Deidara's fury was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. "I'm just saying, Senpai. You've really elevated your craft. Amaterasu-sama would be proud."

Deidara's fists clenched tightly, the veins in his forehead bulging with suppressed rage. His muttering turned darker, his words biting as he struggled to keep his composure. "I swear to Amaterasu-sama, if you hadn't been the one to knock her up, I'd have blown your ass up long ago…"

Obito tilted his head slightly, as if considering the statement, but made no effort to defend himself. The look on his face—a mix of amusement and feigned innocence—only seemed to inflame Deidara's temper further.

Itachi tilted his head slightly, observing the pair with a mixture of curiosity and faint amusement. "You two seem to get along… surprisingly well," he remarked dryly, his tone suggesting he was far from convinced.

"Where are you looking?" Sasuke interjected, unimpressed. He couldn't see the dynamic Itachi was hinting at. To him, their chaotic bickering resembled nothing but amateur dramatics.

What Sasuke missed, though, was the subtle parallel Itachi saw between these two and the camaraderie he shared with Naruto. The banter, the mutual annoyance hiding a grudging trust—it was all too familiar.

"I've always been a bit of an outlier," Obito admitted, his tone uncharacteristically wistful. "Even among my clan. Back when Deidara-senpai and I first met, I was pretending to be someone else. Madara's shadow. But Amaterasu-sama gave me the chance to just… be me again."

"Yeah, well, you're still a pain in the ass," Deidara snapped, waving a dismissive hand before turning his attention to the Uchiha brothers. His scowl deepened as he glared at them, the mere sight of their stoic expressions reigniting his ever-present grudge. "But I'd still take your annoying ass over the smug, pretentious nonsense the rest of your clan spits out any day."

"Thanks, Deidara-senpai!" Obito replied cheerfully, his grin so wide it bordered on mockery. His voice had just the right amount of playful inflection to set Deidara further on edge.

Deidara groaned, slapping a hand over his face and dragging it down as if physically trying to pull himself together. "Just shut up already," he muttered, his tone teetering on the edge of complete exasperation.

Obito ignored him entirely, his grin unshaken. He stepped forward with a casual air, as if the battlefield were nothing more than a stage set for his amusement. "Now then," he began, his voice gaining an edge of theatrics, "shall we see which duo works better together? Our teamwork… or the fabled Uchiha brothers?"

His words carried an undercurrent of challenge, bringing the levity of their banter to an abrupt halt. The air grew heavy, the tension crackling like static between the four combatants. Even Deidara paused, his usual bluster giving way to a grim determination as his eyes darted between his partner and their opponents.

Obito tapped his foot against the wooden saddle affixed to the radiant dragon beneath them—a seamless blend of his Mokuton chakra and Deidara's luminescent creation. The sound echoed faintly, a prelude to the chaos about to unfold.

The dragon of light responded to the signal with a piercing roar, its shimmering wings unfurling in a dazzling display. It surged forward with blinding speed, each beat of its wings scattering radiant particles like a falling sun. The air around it rippled with heat, the sheer force of its motion carving a path through the sky.

At the same moment, Sasuke's glider came to life with a sharp hiss, its thrusters igniting in a burst of blue energy. The Uchiha brothers moved as one, their synchronized timing unspoken yet flawless. Propelled by the glider's chakra-fueled power, they streaked toward their opponents like twin comets, their presence cutting through the battlefield like a blade.

The collision course was set. The radiant brilliance of Deidara's creation clashed with the cold precision of the Uchiha brothers, the space between them charged with the promise of destruction. Both sides braced for impact, their resolve unshaken, as the battle erupted into motion once again.

"It's obvious my art is the strongest, yeah!" Deidara thrust his hands forward, the mouths in his palms spitting out radiant birds made of sunlight. The glowing constructs raced ahead of his dragon, their wings shimmering with heat as they arced through the air toward their targets. "Because, as we all know—art is a blast!"

Itachi remained calm, his sharp eyes tracking the birds' movements. "I prefer to appreciate art from a distance," he said flatly, channeling power into his right eye.

With his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan active, Itachi drew upon the techniques Shisui had passed down to him. He could no longer use Kotoamatsukami, but his new abilities were no less extraordinary. His left eye allowed him to move with Shisui's perfect body flicker, a technique so fast that even point-blank explosions could be avoided effortlessly. His right eye, however, granted him something more tangible—creation. It allowed him to forge weapons entirely out of Shisui's chakra, their forms glowing with a vibrant green hue. These spectral tools were not bound by the limits of ordinary projectiles.

Now, Itachi summoned two emerald shuriken, their edges sharp and gleaming. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them spinning through the air. At first, their paths seemed straightforward, aimed directly at Deidara's birds. But as they traveled, Itachi's Sharingan guided them with an almost preternatural precision. They bent, curved, and arced unpredictably, slicing through the sky in erratic patterns that made their trajectory impossible to predict.

Deidara narrowed his eyes, immediately sensing the threat. "Tch!" He extended his arms, trying to maneuver his birds around the incoming shuriken, guiding them with subtle bursts of chakra. The birds flitted and veered, but Itachi's manipulation was flawless, the green shuriken adjusting mid-flight to intercept them.

The clash became a deadly game of aerial chess. Deidara's birds split into smaller swarms, attempting to overwhelm the shuriken with sheer numbers. But Itachi's eyes followed every movement, each flicker of chakra, as if time itself had slowed to accommodate his precision. He split two shuriken into four, the edges fracturing into smaller blades, each one adjusting to meet a different target.

The green blades sliced through the sunlight birds, igniting them prematurely in brilliant bursts of light and fire. The explosions lit up the battlefield, creating rippling shockwaves that battered the surrounding mountainside.

As the smoke momentarily obscured their vision, Sasuke adjusted his stance, his mechanical arm humming faintly as hidden compartments shifted. With a sharp flick of his wrist, wires shot out from the arm, wrapping tightly around his torso and anchoring him in place.

"You know what to do without me even saying it, right?" Sasuke asked, his voice calm and confident, his gaze fixed on the swirling haze ahead.

"I think I've got the idea," Itachi replied smoothly. His right eye flared, summoning a tanto forged of Shisui's vivid green chakra. The weapon hummed in his grip, its edges glowing with a faint but menacing brilliance.

The two brothers didn't need extensive discussion. Their years of estrangement had done little to dull their instinctive synchronization. Though Sasuke's Rinnegan remained a mystery to most, Itachi had pieced together enough to anticipate his brother's moves. The bond between them, forged in shared blood and sharpened by conflict, made words unnecessary.

From within the smoke, a sharp, furious voice shattered the brief silence. "You've done it now!" Deidara's shout echoed, laced with fury. His dragon of light burst from the haze, its radiant wings scattering the smoke and revealing the duo atop it. Deidara's face was twisted in anger, his hands already working to form another attack. "Nobody messes with my art and gets away with it!"

At the same moment, Sasuke's Rinnegan pulsed. In an instant, the positions shifted. "Amenotejikara!" The air rippled as Deidara found himself where Sasuke had been moments before, his body ensnared by the very wires Sasuke had prepared.

"What—?!" Deidara barely had time to process the switch before the wires tightened around him. Meanwhile, Sasuke reappeared standing atop the dragon, spinning toward Obito with electrified precision.

"Chidori!" Sasuke roared, his hand blazing with lightning. He swung at Obito with devastating force, the blade crackling with energy that promised to pierce through anything it touched. Simultaneously, Itachi moved with unmatched fluidity, his chakra-forged tanto slicing through the air toward Deidara's neck.

The two attacks came as one, a perfectly synchronized assault that left their opponents no room to breathe.

Deidara's head separated cleanly from his shoulders, tumbling away in a radiant arc. Sasuke's blade, however, passed harmlessly through Obito as if he were a phantom, the power of Kamui rendering him untouchable.

"That again," Sasuke muttered under his breath, his expression hardening. But he hadn't gambled solely on his attack. His mechanical arm shifted once more, activating Gakido, the Rinnegan's chakra absorption ability. If Obito tried anything further, Sasuke was ready to counter.

Deidara's body, meanwhile, began to glow. His severed head radiated the same eerie light, and the dragon beneath Obito and Sasuke flared with a matching intensity. The glow wasn't just chakra—it was a trigger.

It had all been a decoy. Itachi's Sharingan caught the faint flicker of chakra signatures shifting below. The real Deidara, standing on solid ground beneath them, formed a familiar seal with his hands.

"I'm not going to make the same mistake as last time, Itachi!" Deidara bellowed, his voice gleeful and manic. "Now become one with my art and die, yeah!"

The decoy and the dragon detonated simultaneously, the resulting explosion consuming the surrounding area in a blinding cascade of light and searing heat. The blast rippled outward in waves, carving deep gouges into the mountainside and sending shards of rock flying like shrapnel. Snow vaporized in an instant, and the entire battlefield was illuminated in an otherworldly brilliance.

Obito flickered away into a spiraling rift of Kamui just before the explosion reached him, his calm demeanor unshaken. Sasuke, caught in midair with no immediate cover, reacted a split second before the explosion engulfed him. His Rinnegan flared once more, swapping himself with a distant piece of debris just outside the blast radius.

Itachi, true to form, activated the perfect body flicker, disappearing in a burst of green light as the explosion tore through the space he'd occupied. He reappeared farther down the mountainside, sliding to a halt as he tracked Deidara's chakra signature.

As the dust settled and the echoes of the explosion faded, Deidara stood atop a jagged outcropping of rock, grinning maniacally. His hands were still raised, his body vibrating with adrenaline. "This is true art!" he shouted, his voice reverberating across the desolate battlefield.

"Don't be so mean, Deidara-senpai!" Obito reappeared a moment later, landing with an almost playful bounce next to his teammate. His nonchalant demeanor seemed absurdly out of place amidst the smoldering battlefield, adding a surreal edge to the moment.

"Shut up! Why do you only act this way around me!?" Deidara barked, his frustration palpable. He raised a fist, poised to take a swing at Obito, but at the last moment, his hand faltered, dropping to his side. He growled under his breath, remembering the futility of trying to touch someone who could phase out of existence at will.

Obito tilted his head with an almost boyish grin. "Heh, I thought you already knew, senpai," he said, his tone light but his words oddly pointed. "You're the only one I can truly show my old self around."

Deidara froze, his anger momentarily replaced by incredulous disbelief. "Somehow, I really doubt that," he deadpanned, his shoulders slumping dramatically as if carrying the weight of Obito's nonsense.

The moment of dark humor was shattered by a shout from above. "Would you two take this fight seriously!?" Sasuke's figure descending from the sky. He had leapt high into the air, his mechanical arm shifting mid-fall. Gears whirred audibly as the arm reconfigured itself into a sleek missile launcher. Without hesitation, he fired directly at the Akatsuki pair, the projectile streaking through the air with a shrill whistle.

Obito's gaze snapped to the missile, and his left eye flared with power. "Ensatsu!" he called, his tone almost casual, as the projectile ignited in black flames mid-flight. The missile detonated prematurely, the shockwave dispersing harmlessly in the open air. The dark fire lingered in the explosion's aftermath, dancing ominously as if alive.

Obito lowered his gaze back to Sasuke and grinned as the younger man landed roughly on the opposite end of the battlefield, his glare sharp and skeptical. "What's the matter, Sasuke? You seem annoyed. You really don't think we're taking this seriously?"

"If you were really taking this seriously," Itachi's voice interjected, calm and cutting, "wouldn't you have used those black flames against us from the start?" The faint glow of his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan gave him an almost spectral appearance against the backdrop of smoldering snow and crumbling stone.

Obito chuckled softly, shaking his head as if amused by an old joke. "Your perceptiveness is as irritating as ever, Itachi," he said. "But you're right, as usual. There's a reason I didn't attack outright with her flames."

Itachi's Sharingan narrowed, and his voice turned colder. "I assume you're about to explain?"

Obito's tone shifted slightly, taking on a reverence that hadn't been there moments ago. "The only one allowed to cast judgment with these flames is Amaterasu-sama herself. I can use them to defend myself, to keep myself alive. But to use them as a weapon for killing? That is a privilege reserved solely for her." He spread his arms slightly, as though presenting himself for judgment.

Itachi fell silent for a moment, his piercing gaze locked onto Obito. The weight of his words hung in the air, the gears in Itachi's mind turning as he tried to untangle truth from manipulation. "You talk as though your servitude to Amaterasu is no different from Madara's manipulation of you," he said finally, his tone cool but cutting. "You've traded one master for another. Why?"

Obito's smirk faltered slightly, giving way to an expression that was almost contemplative. "Because this time, I chose," he said, his voice low but firm. "And unlike Madara, Amaterasu-sama doesn't demand I become something I'm not." He gestured toward Deidara, who had been unusually quiet during their exchange. "Besides, some of us thrive better under guidance."

"Ugh, enough with all this Uchiha nonsense already!" Deidara suddenly exploded, his voice rising in frustration. He jabbed a finger toward the ground at Itachi's feet, his agitation spilling over like a dam breaking. "Instead of all this philosophical crap, you should be worrying about what's right under your feet, yeah!"

Itachi's gaze followed the gesture lazily, his expression unchanging. "You mean the landmines you scattered all over the mountain?" he asked, his voice as calm as ever, tinged with the faintest hint of mockery.

Deidara's accusatory finger froze mid-air, his eyes widening. "Y-You can see them!?" His voice cracked as he turned on Sasuke, looking for any sign of deception. "No way. That's impossible!"

"They're glowing with chakra," Sasuke replied flatly, barely even glancing at Deidara as he adjusted his footing on the precarious battlefield. "Obviously our Sharingan can see them."

Deidara's mouth hung open, his disbelief quickly giving way to indignation. "You mean you knew all along?" His voice rose another octave as his face contorted with rage. He whipped around to Obito, his fists clenched so tightly they shook. "And you still went through with planting them!? Why the hell would you do that if they could see them, you idiot?"

Obito didn't even flinch, his hands still tucked casually in his Mizukage robe. "Even if they can see them, they still have to be careful where they step," he said smoothly, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "It adds a certain… tension to the battlefield."

"'Tension'!?" Deidara's voice cracked again as he threw his hands up in disbelief. "You mean to tell me you wasted Amaterasu-sama's gift—my art—just to make things tense!?"

Obito gave a small shrug, his infuriating grin making a return. "It worked, didn't it?" he replied innocently.

Sasuke sighed audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if physically trying to push away the sheer absurdity of the situation. "I should've left this side of the battlefield to Naruto," he muttered, mostly to himself. "He'd probably find this entertaining."

Deidara's jaw dropped further, his incredulity now hitting its peak. "You mean to tell me this entire time, you—" He cut himself off, visibly shaking with rage. "I swear, the next thing I blow up is gonna be you, Obito!"

"Relax, Senpai," Obito said with a placating tone, raising a single hand as if to calm him. "We're on the same side here. Teamwork is important, after all."

"Teamwork, my ass!" Deidara shouted, rounding on him with a murderous glare. "If you phase through me one more time, I'll—"

"Then we'll just get rid of them," Sasuke interrupted abruptly, his voice slicing through their bickering with deadly precision. His hand raised, drawing everyone's attention to the glint of his mechanical arm as the cap on his finger slid open, revealing the tip of a sleek missile.

"Wait—!" The cry came from all three of the others in perfect unison, overlapping in a discordant chorus of alarm.

It was already too late.

Sasuke's missile launched with a sharp hiss, cutting through the air in a streak of silver. The tension snapped in an instant, replaced by a moment of stunned silence as all eyes followed its path toward the nearest glowing landmine—then a blinding flash of light as the landmine exploded. The shockwave rippled outward, triggering the next mine, and the next, until the entire mountaintop was consumed in a violent chain reaction.

The air itself seemed to ignite as explosions erupted in a domino effect, each detonation feeding into the next with a fury that shook the heavens. The cacophony of blasts was deafening, like thunder crashing in an unending cascade. Columns of fire and debris shot skyward in towering plumes, blotting out the sun in a shroud of ash and smoke. The once-pristine, snow-covered slopes of the mountain—its three wolf-head-shaped peaks a proud testament to the region's natural majesty—fractured under the relentless barrage. Cracks spiderwebbed outward from the epicenter of the devastation, splitting the jagged rock into countless pieces.

The wolf-head shape, sculpted over millennia by the forces of nature, crumbled under the onslaught. Its proud snout, once piercing the sky as if howling toward the heavens, collapsed in a fiery cascade of molten rock and ash. The carved ridges that resembled the eyes shattered next, leaving the once-distinctive peak a grotesque shadow of its former self.

Snow vaporized in an instant, replaced by a deluge of molten rock and blackened ash that roared down the slopes like a pyroclastic wave. Massive boulders, larger than houses, were hurled into the air like toys, crashing down with earth-shaking force. The mountain's foundations groaned as the very earth beneath it buckled, unable to withstand the relentless assault. Entire sections of the cliffs gave way, tumbling into the valley below in an apocalyptic landslide that buried everything in its path.

The ground trembled violently, shockwaves radiating outward with enough force to topple distant trees and send flocks of birds fleeing in chaotic formation. As the last of the explosions echoed into the distance, the mountain collapsed entirely, its once-majestic form reduced to a smoking ruin.

When the devastation finally subsided, the mountain was no more. In its place stood only a smoldering heap of rubble, its jagged silhouette replaced by a steaming, blackened wasteland. The faint hiss of cooling rock and the acrid stench of sulfur hung heavy in the air. The few remnants of snow clinging to the mountain's lower slopes had melted into rivers of mud, streaking the blackened terrain like tears shed for what had been lost.

It was the second of the Sanrō mountains to fall, its destruction a grim testament to the sheer, unchecked power unleashed on this battlefield. The once-majestic formation, so iconic it was said to embody the spirit of the land, now lay as nothing more than a monument to ruin.

Itachi straightened his cloak, brushing off a layer of dust that had settled during their hasty escape. His expression was unreadable as he surveyed the destruction, though his crimson eyes flickered briefly with something akin to exasperation. "I would've appreciated a bit more warning before you decided to blow up the entire mountain," he remarked, his tone tinged with a long-suffering sigh. "I wasn't entirely sure there wasn't some kind of trick hidden among those mines."

His words were calm, almost casual, but his gaze lingered on the rubble for a moment longer, the faintest flicker of annoyance betraying his otherwise stoic demeanor. Sasuke, standing nearby with his mechanical finger still faintly smoking, shrugged in response, clearly unbothered by the catastrophic scale of his actions.

"It was faster to get rid of them all at once," Sasuke replied, not bothering to hide the edge of irritation in his voice. "I figured you wouldn't have a problem dodging a little fireworks show."

"A little?" Itachi raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at the smoldering remains of what had once been an imposing peak.

"Okay, maybe it was a lot." Sasuke allowed a faint smirk, his confidence unshaken.

Itachi's gaze flickered around the destruction, a faint smirk ghosting across his lips. For all the chaos around them, there was something almost comical about their antics. Still, his sharp eyes scanned the rubble, ever alert. The battle was far from over.

"What the hell is wrong with your little brother!?" Deidara shouted as a spiraling Kamui portal opened in the air, spitting him out onto the rubble of the obliterated mountain. His hair was disheveled, his cloak singed at the edges, and his three mouths were twisted in a mix of outrage and disbelief. Obito followed behind, stepping lightly as if he'd just taken a pleasant stroll. "I didn't even get to properly watch as my art took down a mountain! I'll kill you for that, yeah!"

For a moment, an almost comical silence hung in the air. The Uchiha brothers exchanged a glance, their identical expressions of faint disbelief mirroring each other before they turned back to Deidara.

"That's what you're mad about?" Sasuke asked flatly.

"You were already trying to kill us anyway," Itachi added with his characteristic calm, his tone almost bored.

Deidara's left eye twitched violently. "These damn brothers…" he hissed through clenched teeth, the sound of his grinding molars almost audible over the smoldering ruins. "Obito! We're taking them out right now, you hear me!?"

"Of course, Deidara-senpai!" Obito replied cheerfully, giving him an exaggerated thumbs-up. He looked utterly unbothered by the chaos that had unfolded moments ago, his casual demeanor bordering on surreal.

Deidara's frustration hit its peak. "Could you stop with that irritating grin!?" he snapped, raising a fist as though to swing at Obito again. He stopped short, however, his anger melting into a sudden unease as something dark began to creep along his skin.

Itachi's sharp eyes narrowed, catching the black vein-like marks that started spreading up Deidara's neck and wrist. The markings pulsed faintly, as if they were alive, slithering beneath his skin. Whatever was happening, it wasn't just anger. Something was consuming Deidara, twisting him into something else.

"Katon: Bakufu Ranbu!" Obito's voice echoed like a commandment as he unleashed a massive sphere of flame, interrupting Itachi's trail of thought. The roaring inferno spun with an unnatural ferocity, enhanced by the spiraling pull of Kamui's vortex. As it churned through the battlefield, the fire took on the appearance of a blazing drill, incinerating everything in its path and tearing through the air with a deafening roar.

"That's not gonna get through!" Sasuke countered, his expression sharp with focus. His mechanical arm shifted, the whirring sound of gears and energy coalescing into a high-pitched hum. With a fluid motion, he extended his arm, transforming it into a cannon glowing with azure intensity.

A beam of blue plasma surged forth, its radiant light piercing the flames with surgical precision, breaking the fiery construct apart into a dazzling eruption of embers and smoke. The heat of the clash was overwhelming, the air rippling like a mirage as the remnants of the firestorm dissipated.

As the battlefield fell momentarily silent, Itachi's sharp eyes scanned the smoke. "Stay alert," he murmured. "They've disappeared again."

From the settling haze emerged dozens of glowing centipedes, their segmented bodies made of pure sunlight. They slithered silently across the ground, their movement unnervingly smooth as they closed in on the brothers. Sasuke's Sharingan caught their flickering chakra signatures just in time.

"Move!" Sasuke shouted.

The centipedes detonated, one after another, their explosions lighting up the battlefield like a string of fireworks. The shockwaves forced Itachi and Sasuke to activate their respective abilities in an instant. Sasuke used Amenotejikara, swapping himself with a chunk of debris just before a centipede reached him. Itachi blurred out of sight, his body flickering like an illusion as the explosions chased after him.

They landed on opposite sides of the clearing, but before they could catch their breath, a spiraling rift tore open between them. A monstrous spider, its body radiating the same glowing light as the centipedes, leapt out with terrifying speed.

"Gakido!" Sasuke's Rinnegan flared to life as he raised his mechanical arm, attempting to absorb the spider's chakra. The glow around the spider dimmed briefly, but he was just a second too slow. The spider detonated directly in his face, the explosion sending him skidding back.

"Sasuke!" Itachi appeared beside him in an instant, gripping his brother's arm. Without hesitation, he activated his body flicker, spiriting them both away just as another glowing spider lunged at their previous position.

But the place they reappeared wasn't safe either. Yet another spider leapt out from a new rift, its glowing legs reaching for them with eerie precision. The brothers moved in tandem, separating instinctively to avoid being caught in the blast. The spider detonated mid-leap, the shockwave ripping through the air and shredding what remained of Itachi's Hokage robes and Sasuke's Sunanin disguise.

The brothers stood now in their more practical battle gear, their exposed armor glinting faintly in the chaotic light of the battlefield. Both were breathing heavily, but their eyes—Sharingan and Rinnegan alike—remained sharp, scanning for the next attack.

Above them, Obito opened another spiraling portal, dropping yet another glowing spider onto the battlefield. The creature scrambled toward Itachi, its legs clicking ominously against the ground.

"Looks like they're playing keep-away," Itachi muttered, evading the spider with minimal movement. "Deidara creates, and Obito deploys."

"Which means they're hiding in Kamui," Sasuke growled, his Rinnegan narrowing as he watched another portal swirl open. "If we can't flush them out, this won't end."

Itachi's eyes flickered with thought, the gears in his mind already turning. The pair's strategy was clever, but it wasn't perfect. He glanced toward Sasuke, their gazes locking for a brief moment, and in that instant, the world around them seemed to still.

Through the unspoken language of their Sharingan, a silent conversation passed between them—a dialogue woven from years of estrangement, hard-won trust, and the bonds of blood that neither time nor tragedy could sever. Words were unnecessary; their eyes carried the weight of shared memories, of decisions made and sacrifices borne. Itachi's gaze softened, a flicker of pride in his younger brother shining through the calm resolve etched into his features.

Sasuke nodded subtly, his expression resolute. He understood the plan as well as Itachi did—had understood it from the moment they set foot on this battlefield. Dealing with Obito had always been his task to bear.

Itachi straightened, his form blurring as he evaded another explosive construct. His voice, calm and steady, reached Sasuke amidst the chaos. "Go."

Sasuke hesitated only for a fraction of a second, his gaze lingering on his brother. Itachi had carried so much—alone, in silence, for years. But now, in this moment, they stood together. The younger Uchiha clenched his fists, determination flaring in his Rinnegan. "Don't die," he said, his tone low but fierce.

Itachi's lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. "I don't intend to."

With that, Sasuke turned toward the portal. Timing was everything now. A spider leapt toward him, its glowing body mere inches away before he activated his Rinnegan. "Amenotejikara!"

In the blink of an eye, he swapped places with the spider, letting it be consumed by the detonation that followed. The swirling vortex of Kamui enveloped him, the fabric of reality folding and twisting around his form. The world around Sasuke shifted violently, his body swallowed by the spiraling void of Kamui. The transition was disorienting—an unnatural wrenching of space that left his surroundings a stark, surreal contrast to the battlefield he had just left behind.

Sasuke landed on a floating block of obsidian stone, the air around him cold and still. The sky was an endless expanse of pitch black, a void devoid of stars or light. Suspended in the emptiness were massive, jagged platforms of varying shapes and sizes, their surfaces smooth and glossy as if carved from volcanic glass. They hung in the void like silent monoliths, defying gravity as they drifted aimlessly in the black abyss. A faint glow emanated from the edges of some blocks, like molten veins coursing through the stone, casting an eerie, pale light that seemed to make the darkness even deeper.

"So this is Kamui…" Sasuke muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the realm. His Rinnegan flared, analyzing the space with precise detail. Blocks hovered at different heights, some connected by narrow bridges of translucent chakra, others rotating slowly, their surfaces polished to a mirror-like sheen. The air here felt heavy, suffused with a chakra so dense it pressed against his skin.

He had heard about this place from Naruto before—a prison-like dimension, cold and unwelcoming, where time and space seemed to obey no rules. Obito had once fused this space with the Demonic Gate Jutsu of the Sound Four, forcing Naruto and the others to traverse its disjointed, chaotic depths in order to save him. Now Sasuke stood in its heart, the seat of Obito's power.

A soft chuckle echoed from above, breaking the silence. Sasuke's eyes snapped upward, locking onto a platform floating several levels higher. Obito stood there, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his Mizukage robes, his posture relaxed as though he had been waiting.

"Ah… looks like a rat managed to sneak in," Obito remarked, his tone light but laced with menace. Standing beside him on the platform was Deidara, who looked far less composed, his usual manic energy barely restrained as he sneered down at Sasuke.

"Sorry, Deidara-senpai," Obito said with a smirk, his Sharingan glowing faintly in the dim light. "It seems you'll have to deal with Itachi on your own."

"Fine by me, yeah! I'll blast him away with—" Deidara began, his voice rising, but before he could finish, Obito's Kamui swirled to life. Deidara's form was pulled into the vortex and vanished, his protests fading into silence as he was ejected from the dimension.

It was just the two of them now—Obito and Sasuke. The void seemed to grow heavier, the tension palpable.

"Now then," Obito began, his voice smooth and mocking, "are you sure it was wise to come here on your own? This place is my domain. I could drop you off anywhere in the world—or beyond—if I wanted. You'd be lost forever." His smirk widened, but Sasuke could see the flicker of calculation behind his eyes.

It was a bluff, Sasuke realized, though Obito hid it well. If Obito could have done that, he would have already. This was the gamble Sasuke had taken by coming here, and it had paid off. He would force Obito to fight him head-on.

"You don't seem too concerned that I've just taken away your greatest advantage in battle," Sasuke said coolly, ignoring the jab. His voice was calm, but his gaze swept the dimension carefully, noting the shifting platforms and the faint glow of chakra pulsing faintly through the space. He was already searching for traps or hidden constructs.

"My impermeability?" Obito's smirk deepened as he shook his head. "Convenient, yes, but hardly my greatest asset. With the power Amaterasu-sama has given me, I wouldn't complain even if I lost that ability now." He spoke with the confidence of someone who believed himself untouchable, his casual demeanor only furthering the taunt.

Sasuke scoffed, his lip curling in disdain. "You mean the same power that you need permission to even aim at someone? The same power that isn't truly yours?" His tone was sharp, laced with derision. "It's pathetic. You've traded your will, your pride, for a leash."

Obito's Sharingan glinted, but his smirk didn't falter. "You misunderstand," he said, his tone taking on a mocking air, as though explaining something to a child. "That rule only applies under her domain. Amaterasu-sama controls everything under the sun…" He extended his arms, gesturing to the void around them. "But this—this is my realm. Here, I am the one who casts judgment."

His left eye shifted, transforming into the swirling tomoe of his Mangekyō Sharingan. In an instant, black flames erupted across Sasuke's body, the cursed fire spreading hungrily.

Sasuke didn't panic. His Rinnegan flared with power as he thrust his palm outward. "Shinra Tensei!"

The black flames exploded outward, scattering like dark embers across the floating platforms. The shockwave rippled through the air, sending smaller blocks tumbling and throwing up a cloud of debris. The sheer force of the technique warped the space around them, the oppressive weight of Kamui momentarily lifted as Sasuke neutralized the attack.

Obito observed the display with mild amusement, his hands still in his pockets. "Not bad," he remarked, his voice calm but tinged with mockery. "But how long until you can use that again? I wonder if you'll last that long."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. Obito knew. Somehow, he knew about the cooldown period between Sasuke's techniques. Of course, he would—he had been Madara's student, after all. That knowledge gave him an edge, and Sasuke could already see how Obito planned to exploit it.

But Sasuke wasn't without his own tricks.

"If you think I came here without a plan, you're mistaken," Sasuke said, his voice steady, his gaze unyielding. His chakra surged, the tension between them escalating as he raised his hand. "Jigokudō!" he called, his Rinnegan blazing with power. The black void of Kamui shimmered ominously as the King of Hell began to materialize, its gaping maw opening to reveal a radiant, otherworldly light.

As the spectral energy coalesced, it formed into the unmistakable figure of a man with fair skin and silver, shaggy hair. He wore regal blue armor trimmed with white fur, blending the aesthetic of a warlord and a phantom. His body seemed sculpted from both chakra and shadow, with faint, glowing veins running along his form, as though the King of Hell itself had reshaped him for this moment.

When his eyes opened, they blazed with the Rinnegan's circular design, set against the steely backdrop of a warrior who had long defied death.

"Kabuto, you bastard…" Obito hissed, his tone sharper than before. His calm façade shattered entirely as he processed what was happening. "You let the soul of the Nidaime Hokage get stolen!?"

The revelation hung in the air like a thunderclap. For all his composure and planning, even Obito hadn't accounted for this. His Sharingan flared instinctively, his entire body tense. Sasuke allowed himself a brief, almost imperceptible smirk. Obito's reaction confirmed what he had hoped: his trump card was unexpected.

Tobirama stepped forward with deliberate precision, his arms folding across his armored chest as he surveyed the chaotic battlefield. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, swept across the jagged platforms of Kamui and the shifting void surrounding them, taking in every detail. When his gaze landed on Sasuke, it lingered, his expression unreadable but heavy with judgment.

"So," he began, his voice resonant and steady, yet carrying an unmistakable edge of command. "I have been summoned to battle once again." His tone suggested a mix of curiosity and mild irritation, as though he were trying to decipher whether this was a worthwhile endeavor or an insult to his time. Tilting his head slightly, he fixed Sasuke with a scrutinizing look, his eyes narrowing. "I trust this is your doing, Uchiha Sasuke. You've been honing your talents in… unconventional ways."

Sasuke met Tobirama's gaze evenly, his expression resolute, though his body remained subtly coiled, ready to move at a moment's notice. "I had a feeling you wouldn't refuse," he replied, his tone clipped and pragmatic, as though the summoning was merely another calculated move in a larger game.

Tobirama's lips twitched faintly, a shadow of a smile that was neither kind nor mocking, but perhaps the closest he came to amusement. "Indeed. The prospect of a challenge is… invigorating." Though his voice was calm, there was a predatory gleam in his Rinnegan, the ancient eyes of a man who had bent battlefields to his will. This wasn't just idle curiosity—this was anticipation, tempered by experience and razor-sharp intellect.

Obito, observing the interaction, felt his expression twist with anger for a brief instant. He quickly smoothed it into a smirk, though the mockery in his voice was thinly veiled. "The legendary Senju Tobirama, bound to the will of an Uchiha. How poetic."

Tobirama's gaze shifted slowly, his piercing eyes locking onto Obito. He studied him with cold calculation, his expression betraying nothing but disdain. His scrutiny lingered on the swirling Sharingan, taking in every detail of Obito's appearance and chakra signature. "And who is this?" he asked, his voice as sharp as a blade, tinged with both curiosity and derision. "Another fool playing at power he doesn't understand?"

Obito's grin widened, a flash of sarcasm brightening his features. "I don't know. Let's see about that."

The void of Kamui began to shift, the eerie stillness giving way to an ominous hum as Obito raised his right arm. Flesh twisted grotesquely, the once-human limb morphing into a lattice of black and green Mokuton chakra, veins pulsing with unnatural vitality. "Mokuton: Great Forest Emergence," Obito growled, his voice low and dangerous. The sound was guttural, like the crackle of splintering wood and the rumble of distant thunder.

With a sickening crack, the Zetsu-infused cells surged outward. A dense forest of gnarled, clawing trees exploded into existence, rushing toward Tobirama and Sasuke with malevolent intent. The trees writhed like serpents, their snapping branches and twisting roots searching hungrily for their prey, leaving jagged scars in the floating platforms as they advanced.

Tobirama's usually stoic expression shifted, his sharp features tightening as a flicker of recognition crossed his face. "My brother's technique?" His voice was tense, filled with a mixture of disbelief and disgust.

The living forest surged closer, its branches moving with terrifying speed, the gnarled wood groaning under its own malevolent weight. Tobirama's hand twitched toward his blade, the light of chakra flickering along its edge, but before he could strike, Sasuke stepped forward. His Sharingan flared ominously, chakra pooling in his chest as he inhaled deeply. The air around him seemed to crackle with raw power, the calm before the storm.

"Katon: Great Fireball Jutsu!" Sasuke roared, the words barely leaving his lips before an immense sphere of flame erupted from his mouth. The fireball surged forward, its inferno roaring like a caged beast unleashed. It collided with the advancing Mokuton, and the trees screamed as they were engulfed in a blazing sea of fire. The black void of Kamui was illuminated in fiery hues, the flames casting undulating shadows across the jagged platforms. Glowing embers spiraled upward, drifting like spectral fireflies into the void, each one a fleeting fragment of destruction.

His mechanical arm shifted with a sharp hiss of releasing pressure, gears whirring as compartments clicked open. Hidden missile ports gleamed faintly in the light of the firestorm, the energy within them pulsing ominously. With a precise motion, Sasuke raised his arm and unleashed a volley of missiles. They tore through the air with a deafening roar, their trajectories weaving like serpents, each projectile adjusting mid-flight as they locked onto their target.

Obito's Sharingan flared with dangerous precision, the Mangekyo spinning ominously as the missiles streaked toward him. Their chakra-fueled trails lit the void with streaks of brilliant light, but Obito remained still, his form calm amidst the chaos. With a fluid motion, he raised his left hand. "Ensatsu."

From his eye erupted a torrent of black flames, twisting and writhing as if alive. The fire surged forward, each movement calculated and relentless. The first missile was caught mid-air, its detonation swallowed whole by the all-consuming black inferno. The second and third followed, their explosive energy extinguished in an instant. The dark flames coiled and snapped, intercepting each projectile with terrifying precision, consuming them one by one until the air was filled with the residual shockwaves of muted detonations.

The void trembled under the sheer force of the clash, the sound of explosions muffled by the oppressive dominance of the black flames. The faint glow of the destroyed missiles briefly illuminated Obito, casting his silhouette as an ominous shadow against the backdrop of swirling darkness and fading embers. He stood untouched, lowering his hand as the Ensatsu flames receded into his eye. The air grew still, save for the faint hum of residual chakra rippling through the void.

Without hesitation, Tobirama sprang into action. His hands moved in a blur of seals, the sharp clap of chakra igniting in the still air. "Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!" Four decoys materialized around him in perfect synchronization, their forms solidifying on nearby platforms with a flicker of light. The clones moved immediately, leaping across the jagged blocks of Kamui with relentless speed. Each step was calculated, the clones spreading out in a seamless formation that encircled Obito, their movements synchronized as though part of a single mind.

The battlefield shifted rapidly. The black void of Kamui, once vast and oppressive, now felt claustrophobic under the constant movement of Tobirama's clones and Sasuke's unrelenting presence. The embers of the Mokuton forest still smoldered in the distance, a stark reminder of the sheer power being wielded. As the clones moved into position, the glow of Tobirama's chakra flickered like lightning across the battlefield, a storm preparing to strike.

Obito raised his hand, the twisted, Zetsu-infused Mokuton surging to life once more. "Mokuton: Cutting Branch!" he roared, his voice a blend of focus and irritation. A massive wooden spear erupted from the twisting forest at his command, its sharpened tip slicing through the air with a sound like a blade tearing fabric. The spear hurtled toward one of Tobirama's clones, aiming to pierce it before the coordinated assault could take shape.

The clone, however, moved with uncanny precision, ducking low at the exact moment the spear shot past, its movements impossibly synchronized with its counterparts. From another platform, a second clone had twisted slightly, its Rinnegan glowing faintly as it observed the attack and transmitted its perspective to the others. Obito's Sharingan spun faster as realization dawned.

"Shared vision," he muttered under his breath, his frustration flickering beneath his usual smirk. The clones weren't operating independently—they were acting as a unified entity, their sight interconnected through the Rinnegan, leaving no blind spots and no room for error.

The targeted clone didn't hesitate. "Suiton: Water Colliding Wave!" it intoned, its voice sharp and commanding. A massive vortex of water erupted from its outstretched hands, surging forward with explosive force. The crashing wave tore through the battlefield, scattering smaller blocks of Kamui like driftwood caught in a storm. The Mokuton branches were immediately saturated by the deluge. The wood groaned under the sudden weight, its flexibility reduced as the water soaked deep into its fibers, robbing it of its usual ferocity.

The liquid torrent didn't stop there. It swept across the platforms, creating a chaotic tide that forced Obito to shift his footing. The rising water surged toward him, reflecting the dim light of Kamui's void in shimmering, treacherous ripples. Obito leapt to higher ground, his Sharingan darting between the clones as he calculated his next move.

The clones pressed the advantage. One leapt high, flinging kunai infused with chakra toward Obito to disrupt his movements. Another moved low, channeling more water to create a swirling barrier that expanded rapidly, threatening to engulf the central platform where Obito stood.

Tobirama's true form remained still for a moment, his arms folded as his piercing eyes watched the battle unfold with measured intensity. He had positioned his clones to act as extensions of himself, their Rinnegan-sharing vision weaving a seamless net of strategy and action. From his vantage point, every move Obito made was exposed, every opportunity anticipated and countered.

"Chidori!" Sasuke shouted from the other side of the battlefield. His electrified hand plunged into the water, sending arcs of lightning crackling through the torrent. The current raced toward Obito with lethal precision, forcing him to leap to another block to evade it.

Obito landed roughly, his expression darkening as he took stock of the situation. Tobirama's clones had boxed him in, their coordinated attacks disrupting his control of the battlefield.

"This might actually be a pain in the ass," Obito muttered, a reluctant smirk tugging at his lips. He straightened, brushing debris from his Mizukage robes as his Sharingan glinted dangerously. "But if you think you've cornered me, you're sorely mistaken."

Sasuke landed lightly on a smaller block, his posture tense but composed as he surveyed Obito. Tobirama and his clones strategically occupied surrounding blocks, their positions chosen to leave no angle uncovered. Each clone's Rinnegan shimmered faintly, pooling their shared vision with Sasuke's to keep Obito within their grasp, no matter where he moved.

"Just remember, you're the one who picked this fight," Sasuke stated coldly, his gaze narrowing. His voice carried an edge of restrained fury, his focus unshaken.

Obito remained undeterred, his confident smirk still firmly in place. He casually rested a hand on his hip, his body language almost mocking. "I said it would be a pain in the ass, not that I'm in trouble," he retorted, the hint of smug amusement in his voice enough to make Sasuke grit his teeth. The way Obito carried himself, so nonchalant and irritatingly reminiscent of Naruto's carefree arrogance, gnawed at him.

For a brief moment, Sasuke's frustration threatened to boil over, but he forced himself to push it down. This wasn't the time to let emotions cloud his judgment. Obito wanted him to react—wanted him to act rashly—and Sasuke wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

But something about Obito's demeanor didn't sit right. His confidence wasn't just bravado; it was too deliberate. Sasuke's eyes narrowed further as his Rinnegan flared, scanning for any hidden tricks or traps. The pieces didn't add up. If Obito truly wanted to escape, he had every opportunity to do so. With Kamui's ability to cross dimensions and his unparalleled control of the battlefield, retreating would've been trivial. Yet he stayed.

Sasuke's instincts screamed that this wasn't just a battle—it was a diversion. The realization sent a ripple of unease through him. What was he stalling for? The question hung heavily in the air, unasked and unanswered.

Whatever it was, Sasuke had no intention of waiting to find out.

"You ready, Senju Tobirama!?" Sasuke called sharply, his mechanical arm hummed faintly as it prepared for the next move, gears shifting with subtle clicks.

Tobirama and his clones didn't miss a beat. The clones responded in perfect unison, their voices echoing eerily through the void. "Anytime you are, Uchiha Sasuke!"

Obito's smirk widened, a dark satisfaction playing across his features. His left eye pulsed with focused intent as he kept his gaze locked on the battlefield within Kamui, analyzing every movement of Tobirama and Sasuke. His Sharingan spun slowly, almost lazily, yet it drank in every detail of the clones' coordinated attacks, their shared vision, and their strategic precision.

But his focus wasn't solely on the confrontation before him.

Obito's right eye flared faintly, casting a subtle ripple across the dimensional fabric. Through its ethereal power, he was observing a different battlefield entirely—one that unfolded beyond Kamui's void.

"-My true art!" Deidara finished shouting, his eyes darted around wildly as he registered the sudden change. The transition from the void of Kamui to the war-torn landscape left him disoriented for only a second. The smoldering wreckage of the nearby cliffs and the faint stench of ozone surrounded him like an ominous greeting.

Deidara's narrowed blue eye darted around, taking in the devastation he hadn't been a part of moments earlier. His anger flared as the realization struck. "You've got some nerve, Obito, cutting me off like that!" he bellowed, his anger punctuated by the crunch of his boots against the blackened earth.

His tantrum was cut short by a quiet but commanding voice. "Deidara, something isn't right." Itachi's expression was calm but his eyes sharp, glowing with the steady vigilance of his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. He approached cautiously, his posture relaxed but his senses fully attuned. His hand was raised in a placating gesture, though his fingers were ready to flick into a defensive seal at a moment's notice. "Obito's been manipulating you."

Deidara turned on Itachi with a glare that could melt steel. "You think I don't know manipulation when I see it, Itachi!?" he snarled, the veins on his forehead bulging. His hands clenched into fists, the mouths on his palms snapping hungrily. "Don't act like you're above this—you've been looking down on me since the day we met!"

Itachi held his ground, his gaze unwavering. "I've never looked down on you," he said evenly. "But I do know when someone's being used as a pawn."

Deidara's body tensed, his fury rising to a fever pitch. His chakra flared wildly, and the black veins snaking up his neck pulsed with an ominous energy. The shift was immediate and unmistakable. Whatever rage had been simmering within him was boiling over, and with it came something far more dangerous.

"Enough talking!" Deidara screamed, his voice ragged and raw. His chakra surged violently, the energy crackling around him like a live wire. "I'll show you—I'll show all of you!"

The tension in the air grew heavier as Deidara's rage reached its breaking point, a toxic whirlwind of chakra swirling violently around him. The veins that had snaked across his body darkened further, pulsing with chaotic energy, as though his very essence was being consumed from within. His breaths came in ragged, desperate gasps, each one laced with fury. His blue eye burned with unrelenting hatred for Itachi, for the Sharingan, for the humiliation he had suffered in the past.

But beneath the storm of his emotions, something else stirred—a fractured connection, a bond he had once cherished.

Amaterasu's gift had been bestowed upon Deidara not merely for his talent, but for his love of beauty, his unwavering devotion to the fleeting and the ephemeral. It was his love for her, for the divine embodiment of artistic destruction, that had made him worthy. That love had elevated him, infused him with power beyond his wildest dreams, and given him the strength to stand against giants. She had chosen him because he saw beauty in chaos, because his heart burned with adoration.

But now, that love was gone.

Deidara's hatred, his obsession with destroying Itachi, had overridden everything else. The purity of his devotion had been consumed by the flames of his rage, leaving only a hollow, corrupted void. The power Amaterasu had gifted him recoiled at the loss of its foundation, twisting and writhing as though it were alive and in pain.

Itachi, ever perceptive, saw the change immediately. His Sharingan tracked the roiling chakra that spilled from Deidara's body, warping and mutating as it lashed out uncontrollably. What had once been radiant and awe-inspiring—a reflection of Amaterasu's light—was now grotesque, a mockery of its former glory. The black veins creeping across Deidara's skin were no mere side effect; they were the physical manifestation of his corrupted chakra, a warning that he was no longer worthy of the divine power he had been entrusted with.

The ground beneath Deidara's feet began to crack and heave as his chakra surged wildly, no longer under his control. The mouths on his hands snapped hungrily, desperate and unstable, as if reflecting the chaos within. His body convulsed, and the black veins spread further, twisting across his chest and neck like a living curse.

"You think you're so superior!" Deidara's voice was a shriek now, filled with madness. "I'll show you real power! Real beauty! I'll create the ultimate masterpiece, and you'll finally see—"

He stopped abruptly, his voice breaking. For the briefest moment, his blue eye flickered with something other than hatred—confusion, perhaps. Doubt. His gaze shifted to the energy twisting around him, and a sliver of awareness seemed to pierce through the haze of his rage.

What is this? The thought was fleeting, drowned out almost instantly by his anger, but it lingered just long enough for Itachi to see it. Deidara let out a strangled scream, the veins on his body throbbing violently as his chakra spiraled further out of control. His form began to shift, swelling and distorting, as though his body could no longer contain the power raging within him.

And with that, the transformation began in earnest. There was a sickening crack, the sound of bones splintering and joints popping unnaturally. Deidara's body convulsed violently, the black veins crawling up his arms and neck bulged grotesquely, as though they had a life of their own, pulsing with corrupted energy. The veins thickened and spread like invasive roots, their dark tendrils racing beneath his skin until they disappeared beneath the folds of his Tsuchikage robes.

Then the robes tore apart, shredded by the grotesque swelling of his body. Deidara's once-slender frame bulged and twisted, his flesh bubbling unnaturally as if something vile churned beneath the surface. Tumorous growths erupted from his chest and shoulders, the skin splitting open to reveal raw, glistening muscle and writhing sinew. The sound of flesh ripping filled the air, a nauseating squelch that accompanied every unnatural expansion.

A gaping fourth mouth emerged from the center of his chest, its edges lined with jagged teeth. The mouth stretched wide, grotesquely larger than the smaller mouths on his palms, its insatiable hunger evident in the way it heaved and gasped, pulling in air with wheezing desperation. This new maw seemed to devour Deidara's original body, swallowing his chest and torso as if consuming him from the inside out.

Deidara's legs collapsed beneath him with a wet crunch, the bones folding in on themselves like brittle twigs. The appendages fused together, elongating and reshaping into a bloated, pulsating mass of flesh that resembled the lower half of a grotesque slug. Thick, veined ridges ran along the length of this monstrous base, the pulsations synchronized with a rapid, irregular heartbeat.

His spine arched unnaturally, pulling his body downward as his shoulders sagged and stretched. The transformation pulled him closer to the ground, his upper body sinking into the mass of his new slug-like form. The skin along his back tore open, revealing clusters of fleshy growths that oozed a viscous, golden fluid, the remnants of Amaterasu's corrupted light.

The two mouths that had once adorned his palms were now perched atop elongated necks of sinew and bone, dangling limply as though they lacked the strength to fully lift themselves. Their jaws snapped weakly, teeth grinding together with a nauseating crunch. Meanwhile, a grotesque, serpentine appendage extended from the back of the creature, dragging along the ground like a bloated tail. At its tip, the remnants of Deidara's face clung to the distorted flesh, one blue eye glaring out with a mix of hatred and despair. The rest of his features had been consumed by the growths, leaving only a tuft of his once-proud blond hair and that single, furious eye.

The abomination continued to swell, its mass expanding uncontrollably as though fueled by Deidara's unbridled rage. His form became a pulsating, writhing nightmare, an amalgamation of mouths, flesh, and corrupted energy. The largest mouth at the front of the creature hung from a thick, sinewy neck, towering over Itachi and drooling streams of glowing golden liquid that hissed and steamed as it hit the ground.

Finally, the transformation slowed, the grotesque figure looming over the battlefield. The abomination had grown to monstrous proportions, its bulk and grotesque shape rivaling that of a tailed beast. Its very presence exuded a sense of wrongness, a corruption so deep that it twisted the air around it into shimmering waves of heat and distortion.

Itachi watched, unmoving, as the abomination let out a guttural, inhuman roar, its three front mouths opening wide to spew radiant beams of light. The searing blasts tore through the air, exploding with devastating force and leaving smoldering craters in their wake. The beams, unfocused and wild, burned with the remnants of Amaterasu's power—power now twisted into something unrecognizable, a parody of the divine light Deidara had once wielded.

Itachi's expression hardened. This was no longer Deidara, the passionate artist who had sought to create beauty through destruction. This was a creature consumed by hatred, its corrupted form a reflection of the darkness that had overtaken its soul. There would be no reasoning, no redemption.

Only an end.

Deidara's massive, grotesque form shifted with a predatory intensity, the corrupted mouths on its many necks opening wide to unleash concentrated beams of light that tore through the air like celestial lances, their brilliance searing the battlefield with an intensity that rivaled the midday sun. Each beam was a chaotic symphony of power, erupting with deafening detonations as they struck the ground, pulverizing stone and reducing it to molten slag. The explosions rippled outward in waves, vaporizing anything caught within their radius. The very ground quaked under the force of the blasts, leaving behind smoldering craters that glowed with residual heat.

Three beams converged on Itachi with devastating speed, their paths carving through the battlefield with ruthless determination. Yet, in a flicker of motion, Itachi vanished, reappearing moments later outside the abomination's immediate line of sight. The single, glaring blue eye at the end of the grotesque tail swung around, searching furiously for its target. The smaller, head-like appendages atop the abomination's writhing body continued their assault, blasting the surrounding area indiscriminately. Entire swaths of land were reduced to rubble as the beams tore through anything that dared to stand.

Itachi landed lightly atop a crumbled stone spire, his sharp gaze unwavering as he took in the abomination before him. The heat of the explosions shimmered in the air, distorting his vision like a mirage. He could feel the weight of the corrupted chakra pressing down on him, oppressive and suffocating, but he remained calm. His mind was clear, his resolve unshaken.

He closed his eyes for a moment, a quiet apology escaping his lips. "Shisui… I'm going to need all your power for this one."

When Itachi opened his eyes again, his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan flared with unparalleled intensity, the seven-pointed shuriken spinning with a crimson brilliance that seemed to pierce the haze of destruction. He reached deep into his connection with Shisui, calling upon the chakra and essence of his dearest friend, the one whose legacy he had sworn to carry forward.

Green chakra erupted around Itachi, surging outward like a tidal wave of energy. The glow intensified, expanding rapidly until it engulfed him entirely. The chakra coalesced into a massive, humanoid figure, its outline shimmering with an otherworldly brilliance. The form solidified, revealing the towering figure of Shisui in ornate battle armor. The green construct was ethereal yet formidable, its intricate design a tribute to Shisui's unmatched speed and grace.

The armor was adorned with flowing patterns that mimicked the currents of wind and water, a testament to Shisui's swift and fluid combat style. The figure's chest plate bore a striking emblem of a whirlwind, and its shoulders were capped with angular pauldrons that seemed to radiate authority. The towering construct stood nearly as large as the abomination Deidara had become, its emerald glow cutting through the darkened battlefield like a beacon of hope.

Within the chakra armor, Itachi floated effortlessly, lifted off the ground as though cradled by the very essence of Shisui's spirit. He felt the synchronization of their energies, the fusion of their wills. It was more than power—it was understanding, trust, and an unbreakable bond. Together, they were unstoppable.

The abomination roared, its mouths opening wide to unleash another volley of devastating beams. The blasts streaked toward Itachi, the ground quaking beneath their overwhelming power.

With a burst of emerald light, the towering figure of Shisui's chakra construct flickered, vanishing from sight faster than the eye could follow. The light attacks carved through the air where Itachi had stood moments before, their impact scattering debris and shaking the earth.

The next moment, Itachi reappeared on the far side of Deidara, the green aura around him shimmering as if the construct itself had shifted through space with him. Despite its immense size, the Shisui avatar retained the speed and precision that had made him a legend.

A glowing blade of chakra materialized in the avatar's hand, its curved edge humming with concentrated energy. Itachi's eyes narrowed as he focused on one of the thinner necks extending from Deidara's grotesque form, the corrupted mouth at its end spewing chaotic beams of light. With a single, fluid motion, the blade cleaved through the neck, severing it completely. The corrupted mouth tumbled to the ground, its detached form still writhing as if clinging to life.

But before Itachi could reposition, the severed mouth exploded in a cataclysmic detonation. The shockwave rippled outward, tearing through the battlefield with deafening force. Itachi's Shisui avatar was caught in the blast, the green chakra armor shimmering violently as pieces of it were ripped away. Itachi gritted his teeth, focusing every ounce of his will on maintaining the construct's form. The avatar staggered under the force but remained standing, the emerald glow dimming only slightly before flaring to life once more.

Smoke and debris filled the air as Itachi regained his footing within the towering construct. He took a steadying breath, his Mangekyo Sharingan spinning as he assessed the damage. But his focus quickly shifted as a horrifying sight emerged from the dissipating smoke.

The severed neck that Itachi had cut moments before began to regrow, the corrupted flesh bubbling and twisting grotesquely as a new mouth formed at its end. This new mouth, larger and more jagged than before, curled into what could only be described as a mocking smile. The abomination seemed to revel in its regenerative capabilities, its blue eye glaring at Itachi with renewed fury.

The three original mouths on Deidara's massive form opened wide, their combined power concentrating into a single, blinding beam of light. The energy crackled with unstable intensity, the air around it distorting as if the fabric of reality itself was under strain. The beam tore through the battlefield, aimed directly at Itachi's massive avatar.

But Itachi's sharp instincts and unparalleled reflexes saved him once more. The Shisui construct flickered again, teleporting to another part of the battlefield just as the devastating beam obliterated the space he had occupied moments before. The sheer force of the attack gouged a canyon into the ground, its edges glowing red-hot from the heat.

Itachi reappeared farther away, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the abomination. Within the construct, his mind raced as he pieced together a strategy. "This isn't just power," he muttered to himself. "This is hatred given form. Every strike feeds the chaos."

Deidara's monstrous form shifted again, its corrupted mouths spewing random blasts of energy in all directions. Each beam left trails of explosions, transforming the battlefield into a hellish landscape of fire and destruction. Itachi could feel the pressure mounting—not just from the overwhelming force of the attacks, but from the sheer wrongness of the creature before him. This was no longer a battle against an enemy; it was a fight against pure, unchecked rage made flesh.

"Looks like we need to destroy him all in one blow, old friend," Itachi said quietly, his voice resolute. His words were not just for Shisui but for himself—a reminder that this battle demanded everything.

He reached inward, calling upon a relic of unimaginable power, one of the three sacred treasures he had encountered in his travels. The Yata Mirror, gifted to Hinata years ago, and the Totsuka Blade, still resting within his arsenal, were legendary on their own. But the third relic—Yasaka Magatama—was different. Once a celestial jewel revered in myths, Itachi had fused its essence with his Sharingan, transforming it into an astral weapon capable of channeling divine might.

The space around Itachi warped as eight radiant magatama manifested, spinning into existence between his hands. Each jewel shimmered with a blend of crimson and gold, their interlocking forms brimming with a celestial energy that seemed to hum with the heartbeat of the universe itself. The green chakra of Shisui's avatar coursed through the magatama, enhancing their brilliance as they grew to enormous size, their edges sharp and deadly like the cutting winds of a storm.

Deidara's corrupted form paused, as though sensing the immense power building before him. But the hatred consuming him only spurred him forward. The mouths on his bloated form opened wide, pooling light into a single point, concentrating all his rage into a single unified blast of devastating energy. The beam grew impossibly bright, a swirling column of destruction that seemed to vibrate with the force of his unhinged fury.

Itachi did not flinch.

"Yasaka Magatama!" he called out, his voice ringing through the battlefield like a tolling bell. With a single fluid motion, he hurled the interlocking magatama forward, their spinning forms blazing through the air like celestial discs. The jewels moved in perfect harmony, weaving a path of light and power as they collided head-on with Deidara's beam.

The clash was instant, a cataclysmic meeting of forces that shook the heavens. Deidara's concentrated light roared against the magatama, the two attacks locked in a struggle that seemed to freeze time itself. The battlefield was illuminated in a blinding glow, shadows vanishing as the radiance enveloped everything. The magatama spun relentlessly, slicing through the light with the precision of divine judgment. Slowly, but surely, they began to push forward, their combined energy overpowering the corrupted beam.

Itachi's Sharingan spun faster, guiding the magatama with unerring precision. "Your art is fleeting, Deidara," he murmured, his voice almost sorrowful. "But even in its final moment, it will be beautiful."

The magatama broke through, their spinning forms cutting into Deidara's grotesque body. Each jewel buried itself deep within the corrupted flesh, the light of the relics overwhelming the abomination's own unstable energy. Deidara's massive form trembled, his mouths screaming soundlessly as his body began to swell unnaturally. The corrupted light within him surged uncontrollably, his own power turned against him.

A chain reaction ignited, and Deidara's body expanded like a collapsing star. The light consumed him entirely, growing brighter and brighter until it erupted in a final, all-encompassing explosion. The resulting pillar of light tore through the battlefield, a lance of pure energy that pierced the heavens themselves. The ground beneath them shattered, the force of the blast carving massive fissures into the earth. The sky seemed to crack as the light surged upward, reaching beyond the clouds and vanishing into the blackness of space.

From miles away, the explosion was visible—a celestial phenomenon that lit up the horizon like a second sun. Villages in neighboring countries paused in their daily lives, their eyes drawn to the unnatural brilliance that streaked across the sky. Even those who knew nothing of the battle understood they were witnessing something beyond human comprehension.

As the light faded, silence fell over the battlefield. The once-chaotic landscape was now eerily still, save for the faint crackle of residual energy lingering in the air. The massive figure of Shisui's chakra construct stood tall, its glow dimmed but unbroken. Within it, Itachi stood motionless, his expression unreadable as he gazed at the spot where Deidara had been.

He let out a slow breath, his voice low and almost reverent. "Your final work of art was truly something to behold."

There was no malice in his words—only a quiet respect for the fleeting beauty that Deidara had always sought, even in his downfall. The explosion had been magnificent, its light reaching into the infinite expanse of the cosmos. Yet it had been tainted, corrupted by the rage and hatred that had consumed Deidara in his final moments. Itachi's Sharingan dimmed, reflecting his own sense of failure.

For all his genius and all his planning, Itachi could not deny the weight of what had just occurred. Deidara's descent into madness was not simply a failure of his own will—it was the culmination of Obito's manipulation and Amaterasu's twisted influence. The corrupted beauty of Deidara's end was not his own creation; it was a cruel mockery of everything he had once stood for.

As Itachi turned his gaze to the distant horizon, a rare and unfamiliar emotion stirred within him: anger. It burned quietly but deeply, a dark ember in the depths of his soul. For all his calm and calculated demeanor, there was one thing he regretted above all else.

"I should have killed you first, Obito," Itachi muttered, the name felt like venom on his tongue. The images of their shared atrocities replayed in his mind—the moonlit streets painted red, the silence of the Uchiha compound broken only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. He could still feel Obito's smirk beneath his mask as he slaughtered without hesitation, without remorse. At the time, Itachi had thought that emotionless resolve was a strength. Now, he saw it for what it truly was: corruption, the absence of humanity.

Closing his eyes, Itachi drew a deep, measured breath. For years, he had carried the weight of his choices, believing they were necessary sacrifices for a greater good. But now, for the first time, he felt an unfamiliar, searing wrath rise within him—not at himself, but at Obito. Anger that Obito had manipulated him, anger that he had allowed himself to be manipulated, and anger that Obito continued to wreak havoc unchecked.

"If Sasuke fails to end you," Itachi said softly, his eyes snapping open, the tomoe of his Eternal Mangekyō spinning with renewed resolve, "I will finish what should have been done long ago."

The vow was quiet but unbreakable, a decision forged in the fires of regret and determination. Obito had been the shadow that haunted him for years, the loose end he had convinced himself he could live with. No longer. Obito's machinations had stretched too far, his influence poisoning too many lives. Itachi had once believed in the necessity of shadows, but Obito was no shadow. He was a sickness that needed to be excised.

For the first time in years, Itachi allowed himself a spark of hatred. Not the blind, consuming hatred that had driven so many before him, but a cold, calculating hatred—a weapon sharpened to a deadly edge. For Obito, there would be no forgiveness. Only justice.

---

Chapter End

---

AN: Obito's Ensatsu technique is the exact same as the black flames called Amaterasu in canon.

I just renamed it to try and separate the jutsu from the character and hopefully avoid confusion. The name Ensatsu came from Hiei's Ensatsu Kokuryuha（炎殺黒龍波）or "Dragon of the Darkness Flame" from Yu Yu Hakusho. I figured since both were black flames, it was an appropriate naming scheme to go with.

Itachi no longer has Kotoamatsukami, but he has access to Shisui's body flicker with one eye, and the power to summon constructs made from Shisui's chakra from the other eye, and by channeling both eyes, he can make a Susanoo like construct that is Shisui's avatar. This was my idea of a trade-off for that.