The Technique's Origins
Years ago, Black Zetsu traded Hashirama Senju's living cell samples to Orochimaru for Summoning: Impure World Reincarnation. (See Volume 2, Chapter 67.)
Madara had always known the basics—Tobirama Senju developed it specifically to counter him. But he'd never seen the details.
When he finally got his hands on the scroll?
Even he was awestruck.
If you asked who Madara hated most in all of Konoha, Tobirama Senju would top the list.
But he had to admit:
Tobirama was a genius.
The man had taken summoning jutsu and pushed it beyond life itself. Dragged the dead back to the living world.
(Bastard didn't even let death be an escape.)
But Madara quickly spotted the problem.
Tobirama only used the resurrected as human bombs. Expendable. Recyclable.
He never brought out their full strength.
The development path was flawed. No refinements. No improvements.
Probably because before he could finish, the Valley of the End happened.
And Madara "died."
Without the greatest threat, the technique became unnecessary. Shelved. Forbidden.
Madara's Improvements
So Madara spent years perfecting it.
Made the hand seals more complex. Changed the sacrifice requirements.
Through extensive testing, he discovered:
The stronger the sacrifice, the stronger the summon.
And he had the perfect sacrifice.
A living powerhouse. Completely under his control.
With that, Impure World Reincarnation could bring him back at ninety percent of his peak.
(Good enough to crush a few Kage.)
The Noose Tightens
Now his life was ending.
Black Zetsu and Obito—still no word.
And Jinghang had gathered all seven Kage in Kirigakure for a summit.
Something was wrong.
Madara could feel it.
Like an invisible rope around his neck.
I'm Uchiha Madara—the man whose name alone makes the world tremble!
Aside from Hashirama at his peak, who dares challenge me?
He'd been hiding too long.
People had forgotten the terror he brought.
(Time to remind them.)
Since he was dying anyway—
—might as well make one final strike.
In the dark cave, the aged Madara struggled to stand.
Pulled out a test tube.
Inside: a pair of blood-red eyes floating in preservative fluid.
"After the technique completes, install these. The surgery shouldn't be difficult."
Fat White Zetsu nodded. "Naturally not, Master. But why go through all this trouble?"
"Izuna's eyes are ruined. I've treasured these for years." He held up the tube. "You can't expect me to fight seven Kage blind, can you?"
"That's the beauty of Impure World Reincarnation. No matter how much I use the Sharingan—no side effects."
His breathing grew labored. Face flushed.
But his eyes—sharp.
Death's last gift: a final surge of clarity.
"Have you confirmed their location?"
"Yes, Master. Seiran Island."
"How many guards?"
"About four hundred."
Madara's laughter echoed through the cave.
"Heaven helps me!"
He leaned forward.
"The war just ended. All seven Kage gathered in one place. If they all die simultaneously—" His grin widened. "—the ninja world erupts into chaos. New wars. Perfect conditions for the Eye of the Moon Plan."
The flush faded.
Powerlessness swept over him.
"My time... has come." His voice was barely a whisper. "Did you memorize the formulas?"
"Every one, Master."
"Then let's begin."
Madara slumped into a wheelchair.
White Zetsu pushed him into another cave.
On a stone slab: Minato Namikaze.
Unconscious. Barely breathing.
"Is he still alive?"
A White Zetsu checked. "Still breathing, Master."
Madara nodded weakly.
"Death..." His voice was fading. "...is merely... a new beginning."
He looked at Minato.
"Come with me... to change... the world."
One final breath.
Uchiha Madara was dead.
Fat White Zetsu moved quickly.
Drew a sharp blade. Cut a palm-sized piece of flesh from Madara's arm.
Placed it carefully on Minato's forehead.
His hands moved through seals. Slowly. Precisely.
One mistake would ruin everything.
"Summoning: Impure World Reincarnation!"
He slammed his palm onto Minato's head.
Ashes erupted from nowhere.
Wrapped around Minato's feet. Crawled upward.
Minato never struggled.
But his chest—heaved. Violently.
The ashes finished their work.
And standing before them—
—was Uchiha Madara.
Young. Powerful.
Eyes still white.
"Begin the surgery."
Minutes later, Madara stood before a mirror.
Blood-red eyes stared back.
He flexed his hands. Twisted his neck.
Tested his body.
"Hahaha!" His laughter filled the cave. "Excellent! Ninety percent of my former strength!"
"More than enough for a few youngsters."
Turned to White Zetsu.
"Bring me my equipment."
Two White Zetsu struggled in, carrying a massive chest.
Madara opened it.
Inside: crimson armor. A war fan. A war scythe.
"Old friends." He ran his fingers over the metal. "We meet again."
Strapped on the armor. Hefted the scythe.
"Awaken eight thousand White Zetsu. We march on Seiran Island."
"Master—" Fat White Zetsu hesitated. "—I don't have enough chakra for that many."
Madara laughed.
"I'll do it myself. That's the beauty of this body—infinite chakra."
He threw his head back.
Laughed at the ceiling.
"This is what it means to transcend death!"
"Master." White Zetsu pointed. "What about... your original body?"
Looked at the corpse in the wheelchair.
Slowly walked over.
Stroked the gray hair.
His expression—melancholy.
"Look at this." His voice was quiet. "A decayed shell. Nothing more."
He stepped back.
"Give it a proper burial. Somewhere hidden."
"It deserves that much."
(Author's Note: I still don't understand why Edo Tensei Madara gets summoned in his prime, but Edo Tensei Hiruzen gets summoned as an old man. Kishimoto, explain yourself.)
[Tobirama's Genius: Hated enemy, greatest respect. Madara's Perfectionism: Improving enemy's technique for decades. Minato's Sacrifice: Yellow Flash reduced to vessel, soul forcibly replaced. 8000 White Zetsu: Overwhelming army reveal. Infinite Chakra: Edo body's broken advantage. Self-Burial: Madara ordering burial of own aged corpse with melancholy.]
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