Chapter 113: The Echo in the Halls of Salt
While Rimon's silhouette danced through the rain-slicked trees of the Border, Black Zetsu did not immediately head for the Hidden Waterfall. The command to find Kakuzu was logged, but Zetsu served a master whose roots were deeper than a teenager's whim—or so he still chose to believe.
Within the heart of the newly reconstructed Uzushio Academy, deep beneath the layers of sensory seals and reinforced lead-lined stone, sat the man the village knew only as Elder M.
The room was vast, cooled by the sea air funneled through specialized vents. At its center, hooked into a life-support system that hummed with the rhythmic pulse of the Gedo Mazo's lingering essence and Uzumaki vitality seals, sat Madara Uchiha. He looked younger than he had in the caves of the Graveyard, his skin no longer like withered parchment but possessing the pale, hard sheen of polished marble.
A shadow detached itself from the corner of the room. Zetsu rose from the floorboards, his form flickering like a dying candle.
"He is moving, Madara-sama," Zetsu whispered, his voice stripped of the mocking lilt he used with Rimon. "The boy has successfully infiltrated the Leaf. The Senju are compromised. The Uchiha and Hyuga have been... tasted."
Madara didn't open his eyes immediately. His breathing was deep, controlled, a testament to the sheer discipline of a man who refused to let death claim him. When he finally spoke, the air in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
"Tasted? An odd choice of words, Zetsu. Did he burn them?"
"No," Zetsu replied, his golden eye fixated on the floor. "He didn't use fire. He used hope. He broke the Hyuga's seal—not with a counter-curse, but with a refinement that makes their own ancestors look like amateurs. He has convinced them that the Leaf is a cage and Uzushio is the sky."
Madara's lips curled into a faint, predatory smile. "The Uzumaki were always obsessed with 'preserving' things. It seems the boy has inherited that trait, though he applies it to people rather than scrolls. It serves our purpose. The more high-level bloodlines he gathers here, the easier the harvest will be when the Moon finally opens its eye."
Zetsu hesitated. This was the moment. He should have told Madara about Rimon's comments—about the 'Gods from the Stars' and the 'Infection of Chakra.' But something stopped him. For a thousand years, Zetsu had been the one with the hidden agenda. Now, for the first time, he felt that if he told Madara how much Rimon truly knew, Madara might act prematurely. Or worse, Madara might realize he was not the only 'chosen one.'
"He has ordered me to find Kakuzu," Zetsu said instead, pivoting the report. "He intends to buy the mercenary's loyalty. He is gathering monsters, Madara-sama. He is building a wall around this island that even a Great War wouldn't be able to breach."
"Let him build," Madara said, his voice a low rumble of thunder. "Let him gather the gold, the eyes, and the steel. He is a diligent architect. He thinks he is building a sanctuary for his people, but in the end, he is merely organizing the ingredients for my dream. A village of elites is a perfect vessel for the Infinite Tsukuyomi."
Madara finally opened one eye. The Sharingan within didn't spin; it glowed with a cold, ancient light. "Is there anything else? You seem... agitated, Zetsu."
"The boy is... unpredictable," Zetsu replied, melting back into the floor. "He speaks as if he knows the end of the play before the second act has even begun. I will monitor him closely."
"Do that," Madara commanded, his eyes closing again as he returned to his meditative state. "But do not interfere. If he wants to steal the Leaf's soul, let him. It saves me the trouble of burning it down myself."
As Zetsu vanished, leaving the room to the hum of the life-support machines, he felt a cold shiver. Madara was arrogant, trapped in the vision of his own legend. He saw Rimon as a talented contractor. He didn't see what Zetsu saw: a boy who wasn't just building a village, but a man who was actively rewriting the laws of the game.
'You are wrong, Madara-sama,' Zetsu thought as he raced toward the Waterfall. 'He isn't organizing the ingredients for your dream. He's building a world where your dream is a nightmare that no one will ever have to dream again.'