Author Note:

Happy New Year to you all. It occurred to me that Clone Gambit is nearly a year old now, a chapter every two weeks since last winter. With the timeline I have in mind, it has a ways to go still, well into 2025 I should think, if readership stays steady and wanting more?

Thank you to all of you who read and continue to read. You should know that your comments especially have given me the motivation I need to keep up with this every two weeks, as it was difficult in these holiday months and during sickness or hard times to find the time or the capacity to keep going regardless of how determined I am to see this story through. On days closer to the chapters' due date where I feel woefully behind, even the single sparing comment here and there does wonders to help me find that push I needed. It makes me feel like this isn't going out into an echo chamber, to know that there are still people listening (reading). Even if I don't know what to say back or if I don't have the time to reply, please know you are heard, and you are appreciated.

See you in 2025.

26

Who did she think she was?

Tsunade cracked her knuckles, bristling with the other Kages' parallel hostility. Murderous intent swarmed between each of them, from A's visible electric anger to even Gaara, the irritatingly neutral one, his ever-vigilant living clouds of sand whispering around his stance in preparation to attack and defend. In a grim, undiminished silence they faced off against Sasaki's lone figure where she stood between them and Madara in a blood-tinted cloud of regenerative steam.

Beyond their brewing conflict, the war carried on in every direction, the sounds and flashes and odours of clashing and death like a fatalistic white noise seeping through destruction and smoke. The cold silver moon looked on from high above like a presiding monarch, awaiting its fate.

Tsunade could easily sense that Naruto and Sasuke were still occupied where they'd gone to fend off the new uprising of reunited cultist ranks in the east and the west, their other generals inexplicably gaining a second wind and leading a new charge against the Allied side. The fact that those two were still occupied with those uprisings indicated how well-trained these Union fighters were.

She glared out at the smoke beyond the clearing in a single slide of her sharp amber eyes, her fury seeping deep through her flesh and bones and culminating in a deep ache to fight. Damn these cultists. It had only been a winter's worth of time since Madara's takeover of their ranks, back when they hadn't been a threat, when they had been rich and lazy. In such a brief amount of time he'd whipped them into good enough shape that even while outnumbered four to one, the cultist battalions were proving genuinely difficult to take down. They were arrogant and delusional, blinded by their convictions and beliefs; yet that somehow made them stronger, more determined, and utterly unafraid in the face of the might of the Allied armies.

It was no different with this one. Tsunade's glower cut through the smoke back to where this Sasaki woman stood in her way, her blade drawn in a calm, stoic stance and her shadowed eyes watchful upon the Kages. Her expression was flat and unemotional, her quietude eerily serene as she stood guard. Black hair as dark as the midnight skies drifted gently over her snowy features, her robes whispering slightly beneath her heavy charcoal armour.

It would slow her down. Tsunade cracked the knuckles on her other fist, analysing her and recalling what little she knew of this woman before she'd smite her from her way.

Sasaki was nobody; just another cultist, dressed in more formal armour and with overconfident poise, her utter lack of fear making Tsunade angrier as she faced the five great Kages of the shinobi nations. From what reports she had from Anbu and a rare few insider sources, Sasaki was one of three of the highest-ranked generals in the Union army, and she was also one of Madara's personal guards at the panel he'd intruded on some time back. It was basic information, no better than what was in the bingo books for her, but it was all that her Allied spies had been able to find on her.

Tch. To remember that day made Tsunade seethe. She was calm; her years of experience made her as calm as the human obstacle between her and her ultimate enemy, knowing better than to let fury tilt her at least from the exterior; but her calm did not mean her rage burned any less hot beneath her skin. Her fierce desire to rip Madara apart scorched within her clenching fists, worsening each second in this suspended breath of moments before action. The fate of this Sasaki person would be no different — her death would simply be quicker and easier to execute than his.

Even without all he had done to Sakura as well as causing the deaths and injuries of so many loved comrades and friends, Tsunade's hatred for Madara came easily to her, drawn from more than a century of the Senju's buried resentment and hatred for him and his clan. He and his relatives had caused so much death and destruction: the infamous Nine-Tails attack, the slaughter of many citizens, even by extent Pein's destruction of Konoha with those eyes, and of course this entire war. His death was long-coming; vengeance well-deserved for the worst of an already deeply problematic clan.

Tsunade blinked at the thought, not perturbed but slightly surprised by mistrust and dislike of the Uchihas she held now, where she hadn't had a strong opinion for or against them before. Had she spent too long in her great-uncle's company? She'd never minded his rants against the Uchiha, but Tobirama must have had more influence on her than she'd first assumed he would in the past year while he'd acted as her valuable (if intimidating) advisor. It made sense he affected her views on things; she did deeply admire him after all, with not only his relation to her by blood as a revered Senju shinobi, but his respectable reputation as a strong second Hokage as well.

She shook off any concerns of her changed opinion. She had given grace and extended forgiveness to both Sasuke and Obito, even if she did have subtle Anbu eyes trained on them still to make sure neither turned against Konoha again. Such grace would not be extended to Madara no matter the efforts of any, even Sakura, who had fallen from grace entirely. There was no mercy for someone with that much blood and destruction on his hands.

No mercy. Tsunade looked forward to when Tobirama arrived on this part of the battlefield. He'd finish this situation off on the small chance they had any delays in swiping this Sasaki annoyance out of the way. Her thoughts returned to the problem before her, her skin itching as another stretch of seconds passed: they all knew they needed to land their attacks on Madara as soon as possible, before he healed any further, while he was still slightly vulnerable.

It was obvious to all that a comparatively weak and average cultist like Sasaki was unnecessary. Like that day with the panel, Madara didn't have need for a guard, even while injured as he was now; his confidence before her arrival betrayed how little he considered himself inhibited. It was like setting a pebble before a river and expecting it to work as a dam.

Now, Tsunade noticed with a clenching of her teeth, he was settling back to simply watch, as if Sasaki's arrival was a performance to enjoy. He had done something like this before – pausing from taking action on his plans just to wait for an entertaining fight with Hashirama back when he and the other Edo-Tensei had appeared. Like then, this was another show of his confidence and arrogance… but while his power was clear by reputation and demonstration, Sasaki's was not.

Sasaki had no reputation beyond her position in the Union that Tsunade or her informants knew of. Her background hadn't been dug up, with nothing found on her past; she really was a nobody, and while Madara's hubris was affronting enough, Sasaki's confidence was offensive on its own, a display of self-assuredness unearned and undue.

Whatever it was that made her so unafraid in the face of all of the Kages wouldn't protect her — and Madara wouldn't have long to sit and watch. Tsunade readied her fists, her rage simmering beneath her skin. This could not take long, no matter what. This was a very rare opportunity to try again to maim the man they all universally hated, slowing him down enough to allow Naruto and Sasuke the right opportunity when they were ready to face him in full.

Soon. She and the other Kages would serve their purpose in delaying Madara and slowing him if not injuring him further so that when it was time, Naruto and Sasuke could execute what was planned and end this war at last. They would come back here once they had helped quell the enemy armies, making sure Allied casualties remained minimal.

A sharp pang in her heart had Tsunade briefly freezing the breath in her lungs, forcing the pain of it back down into her chest where it had crawled up her throat. No. She would not grieve for the lack of Sakura's presence in aiding them. Not here; not now. She would maintain her hope that she might cleanse her still of her love for Madara, to bring her back into the right side of things, but that couldn't be done until he was purged from this world. Sakura was something Tsunade could not allow herself to stress over right now.

She could sense the others' impatience, and she shifted slightly, ready to surge forward and obliterate Sasaki in a single strike while the others went straight for Madara.

The other Kages had shifted into similar attack-ready stances, and a sharp glance was tossed between them in an arcing slice, the silent question of which of them wanted to take her down first. Sasaki's bold words had echoed away, now, ignored and unanswered; of course she would be tested, here. Perhaps her confidence came from fully expecting to die. That, they would arrange; quickly, perhaps embarrassingly quickly, dying at the feet of her beloved god himself.

He was half-leaning back on the ground, an arm resting over his knee, his glowing eyes the only other parts of him visible through the bloodied steam billowing up around him. Like the Kages, his stare was settled upon Sasaki, the deadly center of attention. Black Zetsu beside him was faintly visible, a strange shadow independent from Madara and crouched beside him among glass and blood, watching with a subtle frown. Though they both appeared relaxed, they were visibly alert, their preparedness for attacks the silent indicator of their expectation that Sasaki would die in moments.

She stayed still, boots settled in a wide, defensive poise, her blade drawn. Her dark hair had settled around her pale face, and her stare moved slowly between the Kages without emotion but for an unwavering intensity. What moonlight could pierce the rising smoke and fog around the clearing shone dully off of her charcoal armour, shimmering off of her sword.

The only one being something close to kind or neutral in this situation, Gaara was the one to break the silence, addressing her directly in a brief but straightforward tone of warning. Sand swirled around his feet, stirring the smoke and the shadows. "Move out of the way, or we will have to kill you."

The others scowled at Sasaki's lack of intimidation or response while Tsunade was noticing Black Zetsu's straying gaze, suspicion tracking her steady heartbeats. His unnatural yellow eyes widened slightly, and because she was paying attention, Tsunade only just caught the slight blur he had seen.

She realised it in a blink. It had been the unusually fast and subtle movement of Sasaki's unoccupied gloved hand, returning to her side. She'd moved quickly enough that the others hadn't noticed, but Tsunade had seen it; she'd done something behind her back, high along her neck through her straight tresses of black hair. Only Madara and Black Zetsu would have been able to see clearly what she had done.

Was it a signal? A message of some kind? Or something to do with a jutsu she was preparing? Neither of them showed a reaction to whatever Sasaki had done, so if it had been a signal, it was meant as a one-way communication. Whatever it meant, it left Tsunade with a bad feeling, her suspicion like a prickling of nausea hidden beneath her stoic and hateful glare.

Sasaki subtly shifted, her dark fingers tightening around her blade handle: Tsunade had no time to mention the signal she'd made to the others before Ōnoki was making the first attack, already several steps forward with his flat palms together. He began to draw his hands apart around blinding white chakra that was refining into cubic white light. It was his famed Dust Release, otherwise known as his particle style, a powerful attack that would smite Sasaki into less than dust. Tsunade braced herself in a pace backwards, knowing well the sheer power in this move as he drew power into his grip. It was efficient in a grim way; he would use his atomic dismantling jutsu on her within a defined space, leaving nothing of her left, not even ash.

Sasaki's pale face was illuminated enough in this instant to show her eyes slightly widening before her imminent destruction, lit in a blazing white shine.

The smoke blurred in a rush of movement, Tsunade instinctively dodging a whoosh above her head. She'd heard an angry cry, but registered first what had nearly struck her — stone limbs, connected to the fists of stone golems Ōnoki had created stepping forward from behind him through the smoke. A backup attack? The old man had been prepared for strong resistance, warranting the golems' near-immediate approach to aid him.

Tsunade skidded backwards as she gave the golems a wider berth, just in time to feel the ground shake from their mighty thrown fists. Smoke swirled madly, and Ōnoki's harsh shout cut through it, a distraction lasting half a second before Tsunade had to dodge again. Rock fell like a rain through the air, and each was severed into pieces as if laser-cut, the golems gone but for a rising cloud of dust thickening the mad rush of displaced smoke and steam.

Acting on practised medic's instinct, Tsunade moved quickly towards where she had heard Ōnoki as she recognised the golems' near-instant defeat. As the smoke drifted away slowly, she kept her attention affixed on where she sensed Sasaki through the obscured air, intent on seeing what exactly had happened. She knew it wasn't good already — the huge square of white light she'd expected to overtake Sasaki's position hadn't appeared.

She found him soon enough, more from his grunts of anger and pain than from anything else. Bent where he had stood back as his golems had charged, Ōnoki was letting out curse after curse, shielded by a half-sliced wall of rock he'd thrown forward to protect himself at the last second. Where the golems had crumbled, he gesticulated furiously, causing them to reform in rapidly building beings of rock once more. They charged forward again with the same determination that Ōnoki had, wasting no time, and by the loud clomping of their feet Tsunade reasoned that he had at least tripled the weight and density of these ones, making them more difficult to take down than the previous set.

She shifted her attention to what had stopped him from using particle style again, hissing a command that he hold still as she bent to his height next to him in blood-spattered rubble behind the stone wall he'd made. She heard Mei join in with Ōnoki's heavy-duty stone golems, then Gaara shouting something in assistance.

Tsunade was focused on Ōnoki with no interest in aiding them for the moment. They could handle Sasaki on their own just fine. Ignoring his stubborn complaints as she snatched his wrists and brought them well within her vision to examine his wounds more closely, Tsunade's uneasiness deepened as soon as she saw exactly why and how Ōnoki hadn't obliterated Sasaki with his first attack alone.

His fingertips were neatly severed on both hands, the cuts made with two clean swipes of the blade. Blood was a messy red spurting from each injured digit, smearing his fists he flexed and clenched in surprise and restrained pain, and Tsunade was lit in a sickly green as she immediately set about to mending Ōnoki's hands, her grimace pale and bloodless in the illumination of her chakra.

The cuts across his fingertips were done with more than what must have been an unusually high speed, executed fast enough that it had cancelled out what would have been Ōnoki's devastating particle-style attack. The slice of Sasaki's blade over his fingers had been precise, and not simply in how well she'd aimed in order to strike. They were neatly severed right after the second knuckle, the blade's bite through his fingers at such a perfectly curved angle that he was left with the middle three fingers on both of his hands at the same length.

Tsunade grimaced as she worked to seal the open wounds at the ends of Ōnoki's half-missing fingers. This was a cruelly thought-out attack. Had it just been the tips of his fingers he could have been healed more quickly, recovering to battle in a fast turnaround; but the loss of more than just the tops of his main fingers resulted in greater pain, greater blood loss, and made it just about impossible to weave signs, his hands too wounded to be of use. Not only had Sasaki's precise cuts cancelled out the particle-style Dust Release he'd been about to unleash, but she'd effectively halted any further attacks from him using that style for at least the rest of this fight.

But how had she managed that in what must have been an instant? Tsunade's frown deepened enough that Ōnoki paused in his cursing, bringing his baleful glare to her face. "What, Tsunade? Tell me what you're thinking. I know you've thought of something important."

"Nothing more than what I'm sure you've already reasoned with that attack, Ōnoki." She finished sealing the stumps of his fingers, shaking her head. "She possesses unnatural speed. This wasn't a fluke of an attack. She aimed with an exactness we couldn't have predicted."

"We underestimated her. I know," he glared down at his twitching hands, "I'll keep fighting. This won't stop me. I've been through worse."

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "Don't be a fool. You can't use jutsu without hand signs, and you can't weave proper signs while missing multiple fingers."

"Then fix them properly!"

She turned from Ōnoki, returning her focus to battle. He would have to sit this fight out until his lost fingers were found or his hands were otherwise fixed. It was vital Tsunade lend her strength to the others before similar attacks were made upon them. This Sasaki woman was a little stronger than they had premeditated, even of a cultist general.

Emerging from behind Ōnoki's stone wall, Tsunade quickly found that the clash had returned to a standoff. Fresh destruction had begun to crack the strange wooden ground at their feet in scatterings of destroyed golem chunks and fresh, steaming rivulets of lava undoubtedly from Mei; sand filled the gaps between the gigantic branches that made up the ground, the smoky air still settling again after their conflict, and what pools of scattered water-style that had been in the warscape to start was electrified, crackling in obsidian-black pools across the clearing where they reflected the wintry night sky.

The remaining Kages without Ōnoki stood again in opposition to where Sasaki stood right where she had been before. Rejoining them at the edge of the group, Tsunade eyed them in a practised glance searching for visible injuries. It looked to her as if none of them had even moved while she had been healing Ōnoki but for the fact that Sasaki's robes were slightly singed, and the others were breathing a little harder, their expressions tightened with irritation at their concurrent recognition that this wasn't going to be as easy as they had assumed.

Tsunade exchanged a glance with the others, flexing her fists in readiness anew. She had been angered by Madara's arrogance in sitting back to watch his army general risk her life, but hers and the others' arrogance in assuming Sasaki was weak was how Ōnoki ended up injured and out of the fight. They wouldn't make that mistake again.

What bothered Tsunade most as they all refocused upon Sasaki was knowing that with such apparent precise speed, Sasaki could have taken Ōnoki's life instead of just his fingers. The moonlight caught on the blood dripping from Sasaki's blade, a silent reminder: it was her creed in not killing that had saved him from death this day, not any cleverness of his own.

Sasaki's speed must come from a jutsu she'd used, and likely related to whatever signal or action she'd made in that blurred movement behind her back Tsunade had seen her use earlier. She watched her with the deadly attention of an eagle observing her prey, intent on figuring out the truth of this grim-faced cultist.

Tsunade held her head high as she glared down upon Sasaki, her sharp amber eyes sliding from her to where Madara's jagged silhouette could be faintly seen through the red mist of steam rising around him. Her cold, bitter tone carried across the battlefield, echoing through destruction and fizzling smoke to where he was a stone's throw behind Sasaki, his mismatched eyes aglow through the smoke. "What's this new puppet of yours, Madara? Another lost Uchiha you've enslaved to your Eye of the Moon plan?"

Soft inhales between the other Kages beside Tsunade indicated their initial disbelief in her voiced guess, followed shortly thereafter by their scowls; it wasn't implausible. "That hair and skin… that speed," Mei was saying to A, frowning at Sasaki almost thoughtfully as A growled back. "Another one? How many Uchiha can there be?"

"It would explain how she was fast enough to stop Ōnoki's attack." Gaara looked resigned, folding his arms with a quiet exhale. Not he or any of the others took their eyes from Sasaki for a single second now. "She must have more than basic Sharingan to be able to accomplish not just dodging, but attacking him like that. Lady Tsunade—" he addressed Tsunade respectfully, "is he…?"

"Out of the fight." Her gruff answer had the others pausing in withheld shock. Ōnoki was not weak by any means, and his exit from this battle, however nonlethal, was a sobering statement to how much more of a threat this Sasaki woman was proving to be. Somewhere behind them in the fog they could hear the harsh, muted voices of Ōnoki and several of his top shinobi that had come to aid and protect him, his curses and protests fading until they knew he'd been removed from the battlefield entirely.

"What, you couldn't heal him?" A eyed Tsunade with disbelief and dislike, thinly veiled beneath his begrudging, remaining respect of her.

"His injury was too exact," Tsunade replied cooly. "Her speed might even rival yours, Raikage."

All eyes returned to Sasaki as she was the one to finally answer Tsuande's previous query of Madara, her placid expression eerie as she slowly wiped her bloodied blade along the robes over her side, the metal of its sides flashing silver in the moonlight. "Do you intend to squabble, or to fight?"

Their faces twitched with fresh sparks of anger, Sasaki's lips quirking with an almost smug sense of impatience. "For if you insist upon fighting…" She took a single step forward, enough for the remaining four to instantly switch into more offensive stances, their hands readied and eyes flashing in preparation to fight as she finished speaking. "...then I think I will execute my judgement of each of you based upon how you—" Sasaki lifted her blade, her brief smile fading into a venomous scowl, "—judged her."

They didn't have time to question her statement. The fight was instantaneous as they all instinctively reacted to Sasaki's blindingly fast attack, masked in a violent wind of displaced smoke.

Amour plates clattered, voices roared in tandem, robes rustling and curses hissing through steam — figures leaping up high through the thick fog as wooden splinters exploded upwards, Tsunade's punch breaking through the ground and destroying it in a cloud of destruction. That blur of black had dodged her fist, leaving behind a broken armour plate instead of broken limbs like she had wanted. Mei's roar and the outpouring of lava that followed set the rest of the Wood-Style branch-covered ground newly afire in rising flames.

Tsunade rolled through chaos to a grinding halt against another branch, leaving a smouldering crater behind. She and the others too had sensed Madara and Black Zetsu's movements, and she prepared for a fight — but they'd only repositioned, settling again upon a new crest of branch, surrounded still by a plume of healing steam.

There was Sasaki again, standing before them as their single guard, the final obstacle, infuriatingly calm as she returned to her former settled stance. It was the third time she had defaulted to this pose, like a viper returning to her settled coils after striking, and it felt like a mockery to them, an arrogant statement of her own that the Kages weren't strong enough to force her to change away from her position in front of Madara. Was she showing off to him? Or was this stranger really so strong?

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Tsunade appraised Sasaki with a hate-brimmed look. She was infuriatingly uninjured, in one piece. She'd dodged all the attacks thrown at her at once, somehow, and she'd come out of it unscathed by a miracle; missing one armour plate, the edges of her dark robes perhaps slightly singed and sweat pearling above her robe collar along her throat, but Sasaki was otherwise wholly alive and well, her expression slightly pinched beneath shifting black hair. Something strange disappeared at the edge of her sleeves before Tsunade could catch what it was, leaving a subtle whispering almost like a hiss behind.

It wasn't good. She should not have been able to dodge not only Tsunade, Gaara and Mei's simultaneous attacks, but A's attacks too. She'd dodged, she'd even parried, and she'd avoided damage. How?

Tsunade was certain of it now, where she'd dismissed the idea before; this woman was an Uchiha. It explained her unnatural moves and her unprecedented speed, and with this confirmation a new fury crept beneath Tsunade's skin. How many of his own clan members would Madara corrupt and destroy?

Simmering, Tsunade glanced across the others quickly in a practised medic's assessment. All were alive and standing, of course, though less unscathed than she'd expect — and was that…?

A was holding his inner arm, his teeth clenched and eyes ablaze. Tsunade could just see it; a fine cut up along his inner elbow's main artery, blood seeping down to drip into the strange wooden ground.

No. She'd struck him as she'd struck Ōnoki, and in just as vital a spot. Tsuande didn't need to move closer to observe A's injury and understand it, able to see as the others did while he looked at it with surprise for himself. It was a deceptively fine cut, a long, neat slice up his arm just beginning to ooze red. She could see how deep it must be by the amount of red spattering where he stood, as if the arm had nearly been severed.

"I'm fine, gods damn it," he shouted as he felt their stares, his large fingers seizing tightly around his arm with the pressure of a tourniquet. But even with his constant aggression A had backed up a single step, all of their eyes already returned to Sasaki with the increasing recognition that it was unwise to ever look away from her.

Tsunade changed stance ever so slightly, changing plans. The next time Sasaki or the other Kages attacked, Tsunade would go straight for Madara in a powerful attack to at least dislodge them from their place behind Sasaki. It would give the others a window to attack any of the three of them. They were running out of time, and with every fiber of her being she wanted to crush Madara, or to at least injure him further. The bastard deserved pain and death, not a respite bought by his newest manipulated kinsman.

Sasaki locked eyes with Tsunade as if she had read her mind. Shifting subtly, she tightened her grip around her shimmering sword.

Tsunade could feel the dark wave of pure, lethal malice that emanated from Sasaki now like a miasma of poison unleashed from her very presence. The dark pools of her eyes held a hateful glint so deep that Tsunade was struck still, staring back as something like a vague and delayed recognition hit her at last.

Behind them all, the vast crater created from their fight hissed and cracked with new fires and clouds of stifling smoke that rose high into the moonlit night sky, aglow in reds and orange. Tsunade's heart beat more slowly, and it felt like time had slowed with her pulse, drawn out in the space between herself and Sasaki the second their eyes levelled.

Unease and suspicion had welded into nausea, lining her stomach and her lungs.

It was her eyes; the way she glared at her with all the powerful hatred of someone protecting what they lived for. Sasaki's strength was founded upon that resolve, one that sunk beyond being ready to die for it. She existed to be the shield she was now: shield, and sword.

The strongest of shinobi lived this way, Tsunade knew. That look in Sasaki's eyes matched that of those who lived with the deepest resolve, who rose to levels of whatever strength they must in order to protect their ideals, or to protect others.

It brought Tsunade's suspicions to a head, and she narrowed her eyes upon Sasaki, knowing it was vital now that she uncover the truth of who this woman was. It was the key to dismantling her strength, to winning this battle and any future battles with her. She could not be allowed to keep her secrets any longer.

Tsunade stood still, glaring out at her as her mind continued to digest the fight. Now that Sasaki had eerily and immediately guessed her intent, it would be unwise to try and go directly for Madara, for she'd open herself up for one of Sasaki's unnaturally fast moves she'd be unlikely to be able to dodge.

It wasn't only Sasaki's speed, though. Tsunade's gut sunk with the frustrating, increasingly angering realisations. Even while in the middle of countering multiple of the other Kages' attacks in this past clash, Sasaki had not only dodged her punch in her inhuman speed, but it was if she had premeditated all of Tsunade's moves. She'd have to fight her again to truly know; but had this woman been studying her? Had she studied all of the Kages' moves before these battles took place? Was that how she managed to dodge and attack at once while under fire from four of the most powerful shinobi alive — simultaneously?

Tsunade grimaced. She supposed that was more than possible, and likely, if this Sasaki woman had truly earned her place as among the cult's highest-ranked. She was well-prepared for this standoff, it seemed. It was possible Sasaki had been among the Uchiha that had once lived in the village before Itachi had slaughtered them all; possible that she'd lived and worked in Konoha all her life before that time came and she ended up a general in Madara's army, making it more than likely Tsunade had either met or been her doctor at some point in the last couple of decades. Sasaki may have been preparing to battle each Kage for years.

But this explanation didn't make Tsunade feel any less unnerved as she looked over to Gaara, and just in time to see him turn sickly pale, taking a sudden step back with a hand over his leg. She stepped towards him with a hiss. "What—"

That was when she felt it, herself.

He was impressed. He never thought he could be impressed, but here he was, watching Sasaki hold her own far beyond expectations, alive for longer than any of them had thought she'd be, and unscathed, to boot. Black Zetsu held his tongue as he heard the Kages' furious exchanges, hurried and quick as they kept an eye on Sasaki where she stood calmly before he and Madara.

While Black Zetsu himself had been unable to truly track Sasaki's movements in their inhuman speed, he'd seen Madara follow along with ease, his mismatched eyes aglow through the darkness and the steam like a blur as he'd tracked everything throughout that last fight. He must have seen and understood what it was Sasaki had done earlier as well, when she'd brought her hand up to the back of her neck in the briefest glow of chakra; but he said nothing, choosingly simply to watch, instead.

Madara had nearly healed as much as he could, now. Half of his arm was back, the other regenerated, and his leg mostly regrown as well. He was still half-punctured with glass only Sakura could ease free, his hundreds of glass-peppered lacerations still oozing from head to toe; but he should be able to move and fight mostly without hindrance now. Half of his once snowy-white mane was a deep matted red from his injuries, and this newest stretch of ground he bent upon was already stained dark in an oozing puddle of blood.

He showed no sign of being bothered, if he was. He and Black Zetsu looked on as Sasaki calmly faced the Kages.

Uchiha, indeed. He found himself agreeing with the Kages' assessments. How had he not noticed sooner that this general was of Madara's own clan? Had he already known? Surely he had, and had decided it wasn't an important detail… it annoyed and almost impressed Black Zetsu that Madara had kept such a secret from him when he was so used to being thoroughly enmired in all of his business. How useful, to have this apparently strong Uchiha woman as a meat-shield while he took a moment to regenerate from his injuries.

Madara must have planned this all along. He was certainly brilliant enough.

He was watching the unfolding fights in silence, his attention affixed mainly to Sasaki as he followed along, his face hidden in red-streaked falls of silvery hair. Black Zetsu mirrored him, his yellow eyes roving over her dark-cut figure and where her black hair was adrift over the red cult symbol high on her back.

Whatever Sasaki had done earlier, she was powerful. Poise and danger rippled from her deceptively lithe figure. She'd managed to injure the Tsuchikage earlier, likely because he'd underestimated her like the others, and now it looked like she'd not only dodged the Raikage's attack, but given him an injury in turn. While it wasn't enough to put him out of commission, it was not only impressive that she'd managed a strike on him, but the decisiveness of the cut as well, injuring his favoured punching arm in a vital spot.

The Raikage was gripping his bleeding arm, grating his teeth, only to swerve at Tsunade's hiss that sounded across the battlefield in a harsh ripple of questions. "I know this move. You bastard—" She threw her glare to where Madara was hidden within bloody steam once more. "Making deals with Orochimaru? What kind of monstrosity did you create for your army, Madara?"

Tsunade was half-bent over Gaara, who was pale as death and grimacing where he'd collapsed to the ground. She was gripping his leg, her hands aglow in green.

The bloody pair of marks were visible now where they oozed red through his pantleg, drawing the attention of all, including Black Zetsu and Madara. The marks matched the ones fresh upon Tsunade's own ankle.

Black Zetsu's attention honed in on those marks. Yes… he'd seen that attack before, as well, and it explained what he'd seen withdraw into Sasaki's sleeve just earlier. How and when had she gained that jutsu?

They all looked at her differently then while Tsunade furiously began siphoning the venom from Gaara's leg. The Kages had braced themselves fully now, reassessing the situation with triplefold tension. Black Zetsu stared at Sasaki with sudden suspicion, glancing briefly at Madara. Did he know about this?

He was as unreadable as ever, and it wouldn't do to voice that question right now in front of the enemy. Black Zetsu returned his glower to where Sasaki stood, increasingly irritated that he didn't know about this beforehand but begrudgingly glad at once that the battle was still well in her favour.

Sweat pearled across Tsunade's forehead as she was illuminated in spring green. Gaara's teeth were clenched, his body wooden with tension as he fought against invisible pain and paralysis Tsunade was working hard to counteract with her glowing hands suspended over his wound. She was ignoring her own marks for the moment as she used her skills to save him first, pulling a dark, violet-shaded liquid from the bite on his leg with practised, steady fingers. "It's so clear now," she was saying, the others pausing in their prepared attacks as she voiced her unburied knowledge while focusing upon Gaara's leg. "The deal you made is so easy to guess. I should have realised it sooner. It's so obvious…"

Her words seethed through clenched teeth, Sasaki and the remaining Kages looking on grimly. "This—" Tsunade's focused stare dilated upon the snake bite on Gaara's leg as well as her own, "is Orochimaru's jutsu. To cast snakes from one's arm that can deliver paralysing venom—" She seized up in a taut breath, forcing her hands to remain steady upon her work while resisting the venom in her own blood that was beginning to spread. "He made a deal with you, Madara. Gave her his knowledge and made her strong, even stronger. Maybe even his curse mark."

Tsunade's words rang out, the Kages paling with this new information as she revealed it, directed at Madara again where he was unresponsive, calmly looking on beyond where Sasaki stood. "And in exchange for this powerful, brainwashed Sound Village pawn to help you win the war, you'd trade her back to him post-victory as his newest, coveted Uchiha vessel…" She inhaled shakily, Gaara relaxing in terse relief as she managed to pull the majority of the venom from his wound, but her own body freezing up in turn with her conclusion. "With her consumed as his vessel he'll finally get the Sharingan eyes he covets. The condition for making her powerful was that he's spared from your cursed Infinite Tsukuyomi. Orochimaru stays free while the rest of us dream. You rule the sleeping world, hers and everyone else's sacrifice 'for the greater good'."

Disgust rippled across the Kage's faces from the ugly truth finally brought to light. While Sasaki showed no reaction, watching her enemies with a flat, unemotional calm, Black Zetsu's flat eyes were subtly wider with this information, all of them listening as Tsunade sat back with a gasp with quick hands tending to her own wound while Gaara breathed shallowly beside her, his wound cleansed. "From a pawn to a vessel," Mei said, frowning. "What kind of destiny is that? Could it really be true?"

"It was Sasuke's fate," A growled from where he kept his hand around his bleeding arm, preventing himself from bleeding out. He stood beside Mei, slightly hunched and grimacing as he looked between her, Tsunade, and Sasaki. "It's common knowledge how badly Orochimaru wants an Uchiha for his next bodily vessel. I can't believe we didn't uncover this about her sooner. Why did your sources fail you, Tsunade?"

Mei looked stressed and troubled at once. "Like Sakura, this woman is just another manipulated tool, one of many puppets he'll throw away when he's done."

It made sense to Black Zetsu just as it did to the Kages, who eyed Tsunade with shock and disbelief that became grim understanding.

Sasaki was as silent as Madara. She continued to hold her blade steady, her eyes shadowed in the black falls of her hair and cracked, slightly singed armour. She betrayed no reaction to Tsunade's words, which was confirmation enough for the rest of them.

"Did he torture her to evolve her Uchiha eyes?" Mei whispered to A, who shrugged in aggressive impatience. "Don't attack carelessly," Tsunade warned, letting out a short breath and siphoning another bubble of venom from her leg. "The jutsu she used is just like Orochimaru's, and I know all of his moves after all of these years. There's a variety of venoms: this is paralysis—" She grunted as she shook sweat from her eyes, fiercely redoubling her concentration efforts and biting into her thumb, pressing her hand to the ground, "but she will most likely know the other ones too." Katsuyu appeared in a poof of smoke, immediately slithering over Tsunade and helping heal as she worked to cleanse Gaara and herself of the steadily-spreading poison.

"Another Uchiha, and she was trained by both Madara… and Orochimaru?" Mei asked, her eyes wider before she grimaced, biting into her scowl. "Damn. I didn't want to have to go all out on this but we have no choice."

She and the Raikage stepped forward, the final two still standing. They advanced upon Sasaki.

Their defeat was nothing but amusing to Madara. There is no finer entertainment than that of participating in a fight between equals; and while this was far from that, it was still interesting to follow while he awaited the slow healing of the last of his manageable injuries.

Defeat traditionally meant death. In this case, it was the death of their own arrogance, as the Raikage roared from the spurting of red across his other arm, this time fully severed and skidding to a halt beside Sasaki's boot right before where Madara rested. A was forced to back up further as he realised the medley of cuts up his arms and sides — along his legs and knees — until he collapsed, cursing and gasping, beside where Mei had fallen back in turn, clasping her hands around her inner arm with a sharp breath. Tsunade and Gaara were alive and stable, but still barely moving; and Sasaki was a blur of graceful movements as she avoided the shivs and stabs of artfully crafted sand that Gaara had recovered enough to throw at her in last-moment attempts to take her life.

Tsunade's slug companion already had clones slithering over to the others to heal and to mend, and for Mei to help against her own snake bite-marks. He recognised the slug as the same one Sakura herself would occasionally summon, and concurrently knew Katsuyu was no threat but for how she would yet again prevent the Kages from dying, assisting Tsunade in stopping their deaths.

Madara's attention shifted back to Sasaki. She stood tall, still, and in tradition to herself and this fight, she had returned to her former stance with grace and unnerving calm. She shook the blood from her blade, regarding the now retreating Kages with steeled, icy silence.

He had to admit it to himself; he was impressed. He had known she was stronger than she let on, but he had not expected her to prove herself quite this capable. Unlike the rest of them, Madara had easily tracked and understood the entirety of these clashes with his Rinnegan, recognising each of Sasaki's moves from moment to moment.

It was indeed her inhuman speed that gave her such an advantage over the others, but hers was not akin to the Raikage's in the sense that it was not the same type of speed. His was offensive, but hers was reactive.

Madara's eyes rose again to the back of Sasaki's neck, hidden under her hair. Never before in any fight he knew of had she used such speed. He suspected this was an ability she'd either only recently unlocked, or had long hidden from others in any kind of public display.

He sought to understand it, letting the natural analytical processes of his mind long-practised in mid-battle calculations process Sasaki in a stretch of seconds. He'd witnessed everything; and now, his full understanding was forthcoming, drawing together what he'd seen in the brief breath of time that followed the Kages' unexpected, if nonlethal, defeat.

Sasaki had pressed chakra-lit fingers to the base of her head right over her spine, as if activating something. The specific placement of what must be an activation of a latent jutsu or otherwise hidden ability was clearly important to its nature, and Madara guessed that it was likely something to do with her spinal cord or the electrical signals in her brain. With what he knew from his own physical experimentation and years of study, he knew that this in itself indicated Sasaki's unusual jutsu as being intricate, difficult to achieve, and likely dangerous.

Whatever it had done, she'd become the fastest fighter known to shinobi-kind.

It had a single condition that Madara had been able to track with his powerful eyes, something the others could not have seen for themselves; her speed had varying degrees, rather than a constant rate. It changed depending upon what she was doing.

The single time she had initiated the attack was the slowest she had been, to start. However, her reactive speed was exponentially quicker than her offensive speed, and it was what allowed her to complete such concise, clever strikes upon her enemies. Madara's eyes narrowed upon the back of her neck thoughtfully. Had she found a way to forcibly speed up her reaction time to the point of being able to react within fractions of an instant? Had she involved her chakra network in some way so she could train her body to move at the same incredible pace?

Even his Rinnegan had barely kept up as Sasaki had become the paragon of speed, dodging and attacking with the power and momentum of lightning striking over and over again. Her practised movements flowed, graceful and spiralling, yet also calculated and measured, within an impossibly short span of seconds. Madara had watched as she'd simultaneously predicted a strike, dodged it preemptively, positioned herself to attack, and chosen her place of attack on her enemy, choosing the perfect part to cut or to strike. She'd avoided environmental hazards as a part of her processing within such fractured seconds, and she'd even used Orochimaru's jutsu at the same level of speed, so quick that the Kages had no chance of dodging each snake head's bite where Sasaki had let them loose from her arm. Being able to witness that in itself was entertainment, followed by the fallout of their reactions to being defeated by someone they had viewed as less than nothing.

Madara's thoughtful expression soured. With such speed Sasaki could have gone for lethal attacks on all of them. He eyed her with suspicion not unlike Black Zetsu's beside him, his sense of mistrust compounded by the fact that Sasaki's executed judgements were slightly off: Tsunade should have been sliced up as A and Ōnoki according to their votes at the trial, but was paralysed instead. Was it truly just her declared creed not to kill others and thus deny them of the infinite dream; or was it allegiance to one or all of them that she was hiding?

The Kages, retreated and recovering as they backed up further, regarded Sasaki with resentful new respect and a new level of earned hatred. Slowly, she partially sheathed her blade, staring down at them with an imperious look of restrained victory.

Madara hummed to himself, rising to his feet slowly, a few shards of glass tinkling down to the ground where they fell loose from any remaining puncture wounds in his sides and torso.

Ah — but that look in their eyes — something more was coming. He sensed it, and would easily dodge; but he wanted to know if Sasaki in her apparent capabilities would be able to handle this final attack of theirs.

It was the deciding factor that the Kages were retreating when they didn't advance with Madara's rise to his feet. Smoke drifted over them almost like a thin shield as Tsunade and her slugs assisted the humbled five.

Black Zetsu noticed the exact way in which Sasaki had executed her judgement as she had declared. Those with venom-inflicted paralysis had generally voted in Sakura's favour or against her execution at the trial. Those who hadn't suffered their painful sword-cut injuries. The former was significantly less damaging than the latter; a lesser punishment.

His frown twitched towards a grin. Sasaki had truly humbled them; penalized them for their cruelty at the trial. Black Zetsu held no love for Sakura and thus no satisfaction in such karmic vengeance, but found some delight in their suffering, seeing it was well-deserved; and that such a strong pawn was on his side of the war rather than theirs.

The Kages had all turned their heads to watch Sasaki and Madara with renewed avid interest as if they had new hope. Black Zetsu glanced over, already suspicious.

He oozed to his feet beside Madara, the both of their eyes settled upon Sasaki's back. "How cute," Black Zetsu mocked as Sasaki turned her head slightly, "but your chosen punishment for their trial votes was a wasteful show of restraint. You should have killed them all, instead."

Black Zetsu was silenced by the whoosh of air and smoke and nearby flickering flames from the fiery hellscape, the rippling of Madara's robes as he was nearly instantly out of the way of a sudden cutting through the air. Bits of glass careened through the darkness from his dodge.

Sasaki swerved in a blur of blackness and burning violet eyes in one final swirl of impossible, inhuman speed.

Displaced smoke crept back as if in silent awe. Sharp gasps across the clearing rose from more than just the Kages in their brittle retreat.

Sasaki lifted her gaze to Madara's face. With unabashed, vivid intensity she released her fingers where they'd seized through locks of hair, dropping Tobirama's severed head at his feet.

Silence spread, his dark pupils dilating subtly upon her with the heavy thud and the soft gasps of those watching beyond the clearing.

Sasaki stood back again at a more polite distance, a vivid intensity shining bright in her shadowed eyes that broke away from Madara in remembered politeness.

It was visible to all that her eyes had never changed to red either now nor in her previous fights; not even once. It was apparent that she had not even needed her Uchiha visual prowess to win; not now, and not before.

Black Zetsu was grinning. The Kages had finally recognised this. He could see it in their faces. This defeat would haunt them for life.

"What about your creed of not killing anyone?" came Tsunade's hoarse, furious hiss from across the clearing. Tobirama's expression was an ill-tempered scowl where his cracked face was half-pressed into the ground, his bloodless severed head still animated though disintegrating slowly in white shreds beside Madara's boot nudging him away from where he stood. His headless body was gone again in a flash as he got out of the way, regenerating slowly as the Edo Tensei did in slow, strange shreds.

Sasaki's response was cold, ringing out to all nearby. "He doesn't count."

Even in his unusual good humour twinned by Madara's subtly impressed mood, they could both spot the twitchiness starting to crack Sasaki's visage. They each knew that it would be unwise to let this victory be sullied in the eyes of their cowed enemies. In a flash, the three were gone, absconding into a smoky and obscured crest of a huge Wood-Style branch nearby, leaving Sasaki's carnage behind.

They landed, and Sasaki did so without her former grace, collapsing hard to the curved ground. Her shoulders rose and fell with her heaving breaths, her black hair falling around her hidden face, and her breaths were audibly drawn through clenched teeth.

Black Zetsu's grin fell, once more. He glowered down at her just as Madara's formerly impressed expression wilted into a scowl upon seeing the state of her.

"Are you…" She made great efforts to speak through her rapid, heavy fatigue, "are you recovered?"

Madara said nothing, so she turned her head, her eyes raking up as high as his chest before she hung her head once more. He was well enough: he had all of his limbs, and a bit of constant bleeding from lacerations caused by deeply-embedded glass would do little to stop him now.

Black Zetsu stood, ready to follow, as Madara's presence burned with impatience and power anew. Yes. He was recovered plenty. It was time he hunt down and make his final deadly fight against Naruto and Sasuke, at long last; no more side-distractions… no more entertainment.

Madara regarded Sasaki coldly now as she sat back with a pained gasp.

"You are finished."

Her violet eyes rose to his face, unabashed to meet his powerful, frightening stare, and this break from her traditional deep reverence in avoiding his stare was confirmation enough. Madara narrowed his eyes, standing back from her, his tone deep and cold as an arctic ocean. "Disappointing."

Who did he think she was?

In her final hour, Sasaki freely searched those unfeeling eyes, desperate to know.

She knew him well enough now. She had learned how to read past Madara's harsh, cold exterior, and she sought any glimmer of light within the shadows of his impossibly dark gaze, holding on to the hope that it existed; if not before tonight, then perhaps now, in the wake of her final stand.

He stood above her, holding her wide-eyed stare. Wind had begun to cry through the turmoil of the vast battlefield around them, wailing against the gigantic branches arched and coiled over those who fought and those who had fallen. It carried through Madara's wild snowy mane with wild wisps of smoke and steam, scattering the black hair over Sasaki's vision; high above his head the moon was a silvery crown, illuminating the rivulets of blood that streamed down his features and spattered his deathly pale skin. His mismatched eyes glowed unnaturally, burning upon her with dangerous, imperious intensity in this first and last time she dared to hold his gaze.

Sasaki's heart slowed to a near-halt as time stood still, her blood racing with adrenaline far more potently than it had mid-fight with the Kages. Her questions rose in sharp relief: did he recognise her for who she was? Had the Kages' theories spurred suspicions in his mind? Or had he watched her battle for shallow amusement with no thoughts to spare on her beyond it?

As she looked up into Madara's moonlit scowl Sasaki realised that what she searched for was nonexistent. She sensed no shift behind his powerful stare; there was no light in those eyes but for the power within them. All she could read from the way Madara looked at her now was in the slow disintegration of his respect with the fading of her strength. If he had been interested in the truth of her clanhood after what was revealed in that fight, he was apathetic now, seeing her weakened and dying at his feet.

With the cracks through her heart followed the memories of so many nights spent holding the candle of a singular hope. Its flame was small, hidden closely beneath layers of lies and plotting and heavy armour, but it had never flickered or dulled, never wavered or diminished through all the trials and difficulties Sasaki had endured in her existence; its subtle warmth had kept her going, sustaining her constant efforts and keeping her company on the hardest nights alone when all she wanted was to let it all go. Clasping her shaking hands together over her chest, Sasaki could feel it burning down to its end, dying in the heavy dark of Madara's cold attention.

All it was, was the frame of a single image. Instead of the unfeeling way he looked at her now, Sasaki's dying hope that had upheld so many of her motivations for so long was to see a spark within Madara's gaze for her; her, and no one else. Recognition, acknowledgement… perhaps, in the deepest throes of her hopes, warmth.

This had not been her only reason to persist all these months. She had trained, honed her skills, hidden her past, forsaken loneliness and persevered through to this point for many reasons; but the candle she held with this forbidden image was what pulled her through the hardest days and the longest nights spent fighting doubts and fears, debating between the paths she must follow. Her dream to be acknowledged and even loved by the one she had decided to dedicate herself to was one she thought at least partially achievable, if she was strong enough. It had brought her to create the jutsu that had allowed her to win against impossible odds in her battles tonight, protecting Madara if just so briefly from further harm.

It spelled her end, but that had never concerned her. Not until she realised it also meant this was her final chance to see that dream through — only to understand that it was never going to come true, regardless of the sacrifices she had made, or of the sacrifice she had become.

None of it mattered anymore. Sasaki was finished, as he'd said, and even through the smoke drifting in spirals past Madara's shadowed face she could see that he only regarded her with cold, unpitying disappointment now. He did not know her; he would never know her, and it was now that she recognised for herself that she'd gone too far into who she had become. She was long changed from who she once was.

This was her curse. Sasaki would remain only known as Madara's pawn to be discarded at last. Her efforts and dedication, her loyalty, and her secrets — all would die with her tonight, unrecognised, unacknowledged, unknown.

She broke her eyes from his face to the ground at his feet, ashamed.

"You're dying?" Black Zetsu confirmed angrily, his yellow eyes accusing.

Sasaki tried to hide the despair across her features she normally kept so wooden; but the uproarious pain in her body and the breaking of her heart made her emotions obvious in her shaky tone. "Not exactly, but I cannot repeat what I just did without total paralysis or death afterwards."

Even she flinched slightly with surprise at Madara's low growl, having expected only his heartless silence. She heard and felt the thorns of his disappointment, cutting her with each syllable.

"What a waste."

Black Zetsu was nodding with agreement. Sasaki gripped her fists, sinking further down into the ground with a hiss as Madara stepped towards the edge of the wide branch's crest. His attention strayed from her, his focus returning to the battlefield. "Wait," Sasaki tried as Madara turned, addressing Black Zetsu coldly. "I'm going after them now. It is time to finally end this."

There was still time. She had but a final passing moment left to just say it in a reckless and sudden decision to throw her secrets to the wind. She was done with self-restraint: it was time she shatter her personal vows and reveal it all.

Sasaki's cry echoed out too late as Madara leapt out into the war once more, sparing no more time for her sake. "Madara, wait!"

She wasn't left alone, the dark presence beside her lingering a moment longer, as if out of concern. She knew it was out of a lasting, detached curiosity instead, and perhaps because this was the first time she had ever dared use Madara's name.

That… and it was the first time he had ever seen tears in Sasaki's eyes.

"You really are finished." Black Zetsu's words had her seizing a breath as if she was reminded it was among her last.

As her heartbroken voice still echoed out from her lost call, Black Zetsu guessed aloud why her tears began to fall, eyeing her with visible judgment. He knew well that she would not shed a tear for her own end; but for something he considered much more trivial.

"He was never going to love you, you know."

"I know." Sasaki looked away, slowly shutting her eyes. In the pause that followed, the cruel tilt of Black Zetsu's frown eased slightly, seeing the silent intensity of her pain.

Her words were soft and hoarse in the smoke and sounds of thousands at war around her. "All of these difficult months… I only ever wanted him to acknowledge me, in the end." She trailed off, her tears constricting her throat.

Black Zetsu thought for a moment before his frown deepened. "Madara is rarely one to acknowledge others for their strengths. That was never going to happen for you, especially if you would be so easily defeated by your own jutsu; even if you are some lost kinsman of his." He scoffed. "To think that using your hidden ability just once left you like this… If we had lingered back there, the Kages would have defeated you, in the end. None of their abilities destroy them for having used them."

Sasaki shook her head. "This is something I would never teach another, that someone other than me could never do. It is a jutsu that will die with me." Her voice was tight, desolate. "But it's not over. I can persist with it once more. Black Zetsu—"

Black Zetsu nearly startled out of his skin as she set a gloved hand over his knee, fingers digging in, her violet eyes set with a new level of intensity. She leaned forward with a powerful determination smouldering behind her eyes. "Stay with me a while longer. You will help me see my final purpose through."