Urashiki's arrival hit the battlefield like a hammer.
For the first time in a long while, even Shuoye Uchiha—steady, composed, always in control—showed a flicker of genuine surprise.
"Ōtsutsuki Urashiki…?!"
His thoughts moved faster than the wind.
Why is he here this early?
This was far ahead of schedule.
His plan—his entire layout for what was coming—had just been torn open.
Indra's expression tightened as well. Arrogant as he was, he didn't dare treat an Ōtsutsuki lightly. He tried to weigh the situation, to seize the flow—
But the moment Urashiki stepped in, the battlefield stopped belonging to anyone else.
Urashiki scanned the area, lips curling into a thin smile.
"Looks like I've arrived in the wrong timeline." He tilted his head. "No matter."
Then his gaze settled on Shuoye.
His tone was absolute—like a decree.
"Brat. I smell Tailed Beast chakra on you. Hand it over. If I'm in a good mood, I might let you live."
Shuoye laughed out loud.
"Just you?" His voice carried open contempt. "Urashiki, your mouth is bigger than your strength."
Urashiki's eyes turned glacial.
"Shuoye. You just finished a death match. You're injured. Don't struggle pointlessly—unless you want to learn what 'regret' feels like."
At that moment, Black Zetsu shrieked, terror surging through him as recognition snapped into place.
"Run, Obito! That's Ōtsutsuki Urashiki! We can't beat him!"
Urashiki gave a soft, mocking chuckle, as if he'd already seen through every route of escape.
"Too late." His voice spread across the night. "Everyone here dies."
The pressure that followed was suffocating.
Urashiki's chakra flared—and the air itself seemed to sink under its weight.
Shuoye, Indra, Madara, Obito… all of them felt it.
This was no longer a feud between shinobi.
This was something else.
Shuoye met Indra's eyes.
No words were needed.
For the first time, they shared the same understanding:
If they didn't stand together now—none of them would walk away.
Urashiki stepped forward.
"I've never failed to take what I want."
His foot sank into the earth.
Then the ground trembled.
A chain reaction spread outward, as though the land itself was collapsing beneath his weight. Ripples rolled from where he stood, compressing the air until it thickened into visible layers—stacked, solid barriers of pressure.
Indra's pupils contracted.
This chakra density…?
Urashiki's expression sharpened.
"You insects…" His voice dropped. "Die first."
He yanked his fishing rod.
A brutal surge erupted from it—two thick, whip-like tendrils snapping outward, lashing toward the village as if to bind the entire world in a single cast.
"Stop wasting your effort," Urashiki said with a smile, swinging again. "Struggle all you want. It won't matter."
"Looking for death!"
Shuoye moved.
Ryūjin Jakka fell in a clean, ruthless arc.
The slash split the void like a descending meteor, aimed straight for Urashiki's core.
Indra followed in perfect sync, driving a punch forward—golden chakra packed so densely it felt like a mountain crashing down.
Their coordination was seamless.
For a heartbeat, Urashiki was boxed in.
But he didn't panic.
He didn't even look bothered.
"Brats. You think you can trap me?" Urashiki's voice dripped with ridicule. "Dream on."
He spun in place—rod in one hand, line in the other.
A monstrous suction burst from the fishing rod.
Chakra in the surrounding attacks—stray energy, pressure, even the force of techniques—was dragged toward it like iron to a magnet, pulled into a swirling vortex.
Indra's face darkened.
He tried to retreat—
Too late.
The tip of the line expanded, widening into a massive suction-cup shape that snapped around him and locked tight.
"What…?"
Indra frowned, stunned by the sheer binding power of that line.
Urashiki's voice slid into his ear like a blade.
"Indra. You're caught. Be good and surrender."
Indra wasn't fully subdued—but his movements slowed, heavier by the second. The binding felt like a swamp dragging him down: he could defend, barely—
But attacking became agony.
Urashiki threw his head back and laughed.
"Hahahaha!"
Indra's struggle amused him.
"You're all going to die."
His eyes gleamed coldly, the killing intent stabbing into everyone's chest.
The pressure blanketed the field.
Indra's pride finally snapped.
"Don't insult me!"
A dazzling blade-light tore through the night, striking straight for Urashiki's throat.
Urashiki smiled.
And vanished.
He reappeared elsewhere—cleanly dodging the lethal strike with a space-time technique.
Yellow Springs Hirabanshō.
"Tedious," Urashiki said, disdain thick in his tone. "You people outside the Ōtsutsuki bloodline really are… limited."
His eyelids lifted.
A Rinnegan opened within his gaze, dark and bottomless, as if it could see through every lie in the world.
"Enough. Time to end this."
His aura spiked again.
He toyed with Indra—each counter precise, each strike humiliatingly efficient, like a predator playing with prey.
Indra—powerful as he was—was forced back again and again, barely holding the line.
"A pile of trash," Urashiki laughed. "Go die properly."
Then—
His smile froze.
In his vision of the future, a thread of blade-light—so fine it was nearly invisible—was already at his back.
"Kyōka Suigetsu."
A cold voice sounded behind him.
A long blade punched through Urashiki's body.
Urashiki's eyes widened.
Impossible disbelief surfaced—raw, unfiltered.
"No…!"
He hadn't imagined it.
He hadn't predicted it.
He had died—this easily?
Shuoye withdrew his zanpakutō, gaze deep and sharp.
"Now we can talk."
He glanced at Madara—an unmistakable signal.
Give me face. Stop chasing him for now.
Madara clicked his tongue.
"Hmph."
Unwilling, but forced by Shuoye's presence, he held back.
Obito felt the instinct to run claw up his spine—
But Shuoye's stare pinned him in place.
Obito understood it clearly:
One wrong movement, and the consequence would be beyond anything he could survive.
Indra stared at Shuoye, shock mixing with curiosity.
"You know what Urashiki is?"
Shuoye nodded once.
"I know where he comes from." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And I can see the future."
The words hit like thunder.
Then Shuoye closed his eyes, formed seals, and a strange power gathered around him.
Images unfolded—projected before them as if reality itself had been peeled open.
The future.
Ōtsutsuki descending.
Shinobi falling in heaps.
Enemies with terrifying strength and bodies that wouldn't die.
The world drowning in despair.
The vision was so vivid it stole the air from their lungs.
"This," Shuoye said, voice heavy, "is our future."
"If we can't unite against what's coming, that's where we end."
Silence.
Not peace—just shock.
Just the weight of inevitability.
Indra drew a slow breath, something close to helplessness pressing into his chest.
Even for him, it was hard to imagine standing against that storm.
He looked at Shuoye.
"Brat. Do you have a way?"
Shuoye nodded again.
"I do. But first—we need to find someone."
Indra's brow tightened.
"Who?"
Shuoye smiled faintly, gaze seeming to pierce through time itself.
"Sage of Six Paths. You've been watching for a while."
"Still going to keep watching?"
The moment the words fell—
Shuoye disappeared.
As if a hidden current had seized him and dragged him away.
When he opened his eyes again, he stood in a strange space—ancient, quiet, steeped in an overwhelming sense of time.
A figure appeared.
The Sage of Six Paths.
His expression held both surprise and resignation.
"I never thought the shinobi world would produce someone like you," he said softly.
Shuoye met his gaze without flinching.
"Because I exist," Shuoye said, calm and certain, "this world still has a chance."
The Sage studied him.
"What do you intend to do?"
Shuoye inhaled once, steadying his resolve.
"Give me Yin–Yang Release chakra."
"I'm going to unseal Kaguya."
The Sage's eyes widened.
"…Are you serious?"
Shuoye nodded.
"To fight the Ōtsutsuki, Kaguya is on our side."
"And I need her information."
The Sage fell silent.
After a long moment, he nodded slowly.
As his figure faded, he left behind one final sentence.
"Tell Indra… I'm sorry. Back then, I truly was biased."
Shuoye nodded.
Then he vanished again.
When he returned to the battlefield, he looked at the gathered figures and spoke plainly.
"I just met the Sage of Six Paths."
His next words were even sharper.
"First, we unseal Kaguya. Know the enemy—then you can win."
Indra's expression tightened with suspicion.
"You're playing with fire. Grandmother's power… is beyond imagination."
Shuoye's smile carried no fear.
"If we're afraid of Kaguya," he said evenly, "how do we fight the Ōtsutsuki?"
He told everyone to prepare—then added that the Sage had asked him to deliver a message to Indra.
Indra blinked, startled.
"What message?"
Shuoye's answer was simple.
"Sorry."
Indra froze.
His eyes flickered with something tangled and complicated. After a long pause, he exhaled a rough breath, as if releasing years of resentment in a single sigh.
"Tch." He looked away. "Meddlesome."
—
At the same time, deep within the Hyuga compound, the night's calm shattered under a sudden disturbance.
Hiashi Hyuga—head of the Hyuga clan—was leading routine training and patrol.
He hadn't expected the crisis approaching from beyond this world.
"I can feel it," a voice said grimly. "Ōtsutsuki chakra… has arrived early. We have to start our plan ahead of schedule."
"Yes, Father," another voice responded.
Two figures appeared like ghosts within the Hyuga grounds.
Their clothing was ornate.
Their eyes carried a cold arrogance that didn't belong to this world.
Toneri Ōtsutsuki.
And his father.
They stepped forward—straight into Hiashi's path.
"You… who are you?!" Hiashi's heart jolted as he took a battle stance.
"We are the Ōtsutsuki branch family," Toneri said, voice flat, as if reading a command carved into stone.
"Descendants of the Byakugan. You will fulfill your duty."
Hizashi Hyuga—Hiashi's younger brother—frowned hard.
He hadn't expected anyone to speak to the Hyuga clan with such arrogance.
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
He snorted, contempt sharp.
"Keep talking like that, and I'll hit you a little lighter later."
Toneri and his father blinked—momentarily thrown off.
This wasn't how the "weak Earthlings" in their memory behaved.
Then Toneri's father's gaze snapped sideways—
Locking onto a small child beside Hizashi.
Hinata.
His breath hitched as he sensed the density of her bloodline.
"This blood…" His eyes brightened with sudden delight. "Excellent!"
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