Chapter 62: Preparation

When I returned to Konoha with Jiraiya and Naruto, the air was still heavy with smoke and sorrow. The village lay in ruins—scorched earth, shattered buildings, and the lingering scent of ash and blood. Even knowing what was to come, seeing it firsthand was something else entirely.

I found Orochimaru waiting just outside the remains of the Hokage residence. He was calm, as always—serpent-like eyes glittering with both calculation and curiosity.

"I trust you're ready?" I asked.

Orochimaru chuckled. "Impatient, aren't you? But yes… I've made the preparations."

With a single summoning, he activated the jutsu. Three coffins rose from the ground, and when they cracked open, the air shifted with an eerie pressure.

Hashirama Senju.

Tobirama Senju.

Hiruzen Sarutobi.

The First, Second, and Third Hokage stood resurrected before us, their eyes slowly adjusting to the present world.

Hashirama was the first to speak, his tone caught somewhere between confusion and concern. "This… isn't right. The village… what happened?"

Tobirama's gaze was sharper. "Who summoned us? Orochimaru?"

Hiruzen, meanwhile, said nothing. His eyes scanned the horizon—then dropped, taking in the destruction of what was once his home.

Before Orochimaru could offer one of his usual smug replies, Tsunade stepped forward. Her voice was tired, but steady.

"Konoha was attacked by Pain," she said. "The village was nearly destroyed."

There was a flicker of pain in Hiruzen's face, but Hashirama's expression shifted into something far more resolved.

"I see," he said simply. "Then I suppose we have work to do."

He walked forward, placing a hand against the shattered remains of the Hokage Monument.

"Let's rebuild."

The ground trembled as he brought his hands together in a single seal.

"Mokuton: Deep Forest Blooming."

From the bare earth, thick roots burst forth and spiraled upward, splitting into a forest of structure and support. Towers of wood twisted into place, forming walls, support beams, rooftops. Housing, marketplaces, watchtowers—an entire district bloomed from the land like it had always been there.

In minutes, Hashirama had replaced what would take at least weeks to construct. And he wasn't done.

With more hand signs, waterways threaded through the village, bridges arched into existence, and shaded groves began to bloom around what would be new training fields and gathering places.

Naruto stared, eyes wide. "He's like a one-man army…"

I nodded slowly. "That's why he was the God of Shinobi."

While Tsunade, Naruto, and Jiraiya continued their discussion with the Hokages in the village, I quietly gestured for Orochimaru to follow me. There were still critical pieces to put into play—one in particular that could be a deciding factor in the war to come.

We left the edge of the newly restored Konoha and ventured deep into the woods. The trees thinned near the outskirts, revealing what remained of a forgotten shrine—hidden in overgrowth and silence. The Uzumaki Shrine, a relic of a once-great clan whose legacy had been buried with time and blood.

"This is it," I said, brushing away the ivy from a cracked stone torii.

Orochimaru tilted his head, curious. "You do your research well. I had nearly forgotten this place existed."

Inside the shrine, the air was thick with dormant chakra. We found the Shinigami Mask—hanging silently behind the altar, untouched. The mask radiated a quiet malice, heavy with the weight of death and sacrifice.

"You're sure you want to do this?" I asked.

Orochimaru smiled faintly. "I've done worse for less. Besides… I'm curious to see the Yellow Flash again."

Without hesitation, he donned the mask. Immediately, the air warped and thickened—like the world itself had stopped breathing. The spectral presence of the Shinigami emerged behind him, massive and formless, its blade gleaming with judgment.

Orochimaru took the ritual blade and, with a practiced hand, sliced open his own stomach.

The Shinigami's gaping mouth opened, and a single soul—brilliant and golden—tore free from within it.

Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, slowly took shape on the floor of the shrine, rising to his feet in silence.

He blinked once, taking in the setting.

His eyes landed on me.

"…You're not from Konoha," he said cautiously. "You're from Suna. What exactly is happening?"

Before I could answer, his gaze shifted to Orochimaru—bloodied, smirking, mask now removed.

Minato's posture tensed slightly. "Orochimaru? Why are you with a Suna ninja in an Uzumaki shrine?"

"I know you have questions," I said, stepping forward. "But right now, you're going to have to trust us. The world is on the brink of something catastrophic. We need you back."

Minato studied me. "That's… a lot to wake up to."

He turned his attention back to Orochimaru. "You seem oddly cooperative."

Orochimaru let out a dry laugh. "Even I can choose sides when the end of the world is on the table."

Minato still looked confused, but calm. "If Konoha's involved in whatever this is, then I should see it for myself."

He placed a hand on both of our shoulders, his fingers sparking with golden chakra.

"In the meantime… let's get back. I'll listen. And then I'll decide what to do."

In a flash of light and wind, we vanished—teleported through space by the Flying Raijin.

In a flicker of golden light, the three of us reappeared in a quiet section of Konoha—far from the bustle of the central village and, more importantly, out of Naruto's sight. The reconstruction was still ongoing, with clusters of wood-style architecture spreading across the horizon like blooming trees. Hashirama's work.

Minato took in the transformed village with a quiet, wistful look. "It's changed so much… and yet, somehow, it still feels like home."

I glanced at him, gauging his reaction. He seemed calm—but that calm masked a thousand questions.

Then, unexpectedly, Minato turned to Orochimaru.

"If you can bring me back… can you also bring back Kushina?"

Orochimaru paused, blinking slowly. "The Uzumaki woman… Kushina. She died the same night as you."

"She deserves to see him," Minato said, his voice soft, but steady. "Just once."

There was a moment of silence. Orochimaru's expression turned more serious than I'd seen in some time.

"I can," he finally said, folding his arms into his sleeves. "The cost is not light, but compared to what we've already done today… it's nothing."

I nodded in agreement. "It would mean the world to him."

Without another word, we moved deeper into the woods, near the edge of the Naka River. Orochimaru began preparations while Minato stood still, his eyes distant, lost in memories.

Soon, the ritual circle was drawn, the offerings set, and the Edo Tensei seal etched into the soil.

Orochimaru clapped his hands together.

With a pulse of necrotic chakra, the ritual ignited.

A coffin rose slowly from the ground, its surface splintered and old—until it cracked open and the chakra within spilled out in waves of red and gold.

Kushina Uzumaki emerged, her crimson hair flowing like fire, her eyes wide with confusion and wariness.

Minato stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper. "Kushina…"

She looked at him—and everything froze. Her expression twisted in disbelief, then softened, trembling.

"…Minato?" she breathed.

He nodded, stepping closer. "We've been given one more chance."

Kushina stared at him, then glanced at me and Orochimaru. She understood, perhaps not everything, but enough. Her hand found his, and she squeezed it tightly.

"We're really… back?" she asked.

"Just for a little while," he said gently.

The two of them stood in silence for a long moment, reunited through time and chakra. I didn't speak. It wasn't my moment.

But then Minato turned to me.

"Thank you."

I gave a small nod. "He'll need you both soon."

Kushina looked at us curiously. "Wait… where's Naruto?"

Minato smiled faintly. "He's nearby. But we want to do this right. You only get one chance to give your son the best surprise of his life."

Orochimaru chuckled softly. "And for once, I must admit, I'm looking forward to it."

We stood beneath the early afternoon sky, wind blowing gently through the trees.

The reunion was coming.

But not just yet.

I stood in silence at the edge of the training field just outside Konoha. The sky had dipped into gold, casting long shadows across the grass, and the air was still—calm, but expectant. My arms were crossed, my eyes fixed on the boy ahead of me.

Naruto was already stretching, energy practically bouncing off him. Jiraiya stood nearby with his usual easy confidence, hands on his hips, watching me carefully.

"So, Gaara," Jiraiya said, raising a brow. "You said you had something special in mind to start the boy's training?"

Naruto lit up immediately. "Yeah! What is it? Are we doing tailed beast control today? Sage Mode combo? You need to test something out with that Rinnegan of yours?"

I didn't answer.

Not yet.

Instead, I turned slightly—toward the tree line behind us. The wind stirred, brushing softly through the clearing.

And then… it happened.

A golden spiral of chakra lit up the clearing like a beacon. Familiar. Powerful. Gentle.

Naruto froze. The smile on his face faltered as two figures stepped through the light.

The first had spiky blond hair and a calm, warm expression that felt like sunlight. His eyes were blue—just like Naruto's.

The second had long, vivid red hair that shimmered in the light. The moment her eyes found Naruto, they filled with tears.

Naruto's breath hitched.

"…Dad?" His voice cracked, barely audible.

"…Mom?"

Time seemed to stop.

Minato Namikaze offered a soft smile. "Hey, Naruto."

Kushina Uzumaki stepped forward, voice trembling with love. "We're here, sweetheart."

I watched Naruto stumble back, a look of pure disbelief on his face. Then he bolted forward, propelled by something deeper than instinct—something only those who'd known loneliness could truly understand.

Kushina caught him mid-air, wrapping him in a fierce embrace, and I saw him collapse into her, sobbing. Minato's hand came down on his back, grounding him in the moment.

Naruto laughed through his tears, clinging to her as if afraid she'd disappear again.

"I can't believe this… I thought I'd never…!"

"We're here now," Minato said softly. "Even if just for a little while."

Off to the side, I heard Jiraiya mutter under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned…"

He was smiling—quiet, bittersweet. Like he, too, was watching a miracle.

I didn't move. My hands had fallen to my sides at some point, loose and relaxed.

I had seen a hundred moments like this play out in my old life—on screens, in manga panels, through stories.

But this… this was surreal to see with my own eyes.

I turned my gaze away, giving Naruto the moment. He deserved it more than anyone.

Later, there would be training. Later, there would be war.

But for now—just this once—

Naruto wasn't alone.

The sun was dipping beneath the treetops, casting a warm golden hue over the training field. The earlier flood of emotions had calmed, settling into a peaceful hush. I stood off to the side, arms folded, watching quietly as Naruto sat nestled between his parents in the grass.

His eyes were still red, but they sparkled with joy. Kushina fussed over his hair, muttering something about how messy it was, while Minato just… looked at him. As if trying to memorize every line of his face. Every smile. Every breath.

I didn't interrupt. I let them have their time. A moment like this… few are ever gifted with something so rare.

But now, we had to return to focus.

I stepped forward, my voice steady but softer than usual. "Naruto."

He glanced up at me, cheeks streaked but glowing, the edges of a smile still clinging to his face.

"This moment—this reunion—is something precious," I told him. "Let it strengthen you… because the storm ahead will test every part of who you are."

Minato caught the weight in my words immediately. His expression tightened slightly. Jiraiya, who had been quietly watching, finally stood and dusted off his robes without a word.

"We begin the real work now," I continued. "Minato-sensei. Jiraiya. Over the next week, I want Naruto's foundation sharpened. Chakra control. Physical conditioning. Elemental basics… and Sage Mode."

Minato didn't hesitate. "I can take him through Flying Raijin drills. His instinct is already sharp—it's not far off from how I moved."

Jiraiya grunted with a lopsided smile. "And I'll make sure he stops turning into a half-baked toad. No more sloppy sage transformations."

Naruto scratched his head sheepishly. "Hehe… yeah, still working on that part."

I didn't smile, but I didn't glare either. My voice hardened slightly—not out of irritation, but out of purpose. "Because after this week… we begin tailed beast training."

His eyes widened. "You mean… me and Kurama?"

I nodded. "Full cooperation. Total control. I've already achieved it with Shukaku. You'll do the same with him."

Minato raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. He knew what I meant.

"And once your foundation is solid," I said, my gaze drifting toward the horizon, "you'll be ready for what's coming. The war. The chaos. The truth of it all."

The wind stirred through the trees, almost as if echoing the tension carried in my words.

Jiraiya clapped his hands together with a grin. "Well, let's not waste time then. We've got one week to turn this knucklehead into something resembling a shinobi."

Naruto's grin returned full force. "Let's go, Ero-sennin!"

Kushina stood, brushing her skirt. "He's got the spirit, that's for sure."

I allowed myself a small smile.

While Naruto was off training with Jiraiya and Minato under the waning sunlight, I found myself alone—perched atop a wind-blasted cliff beyond Konoha's edge. No noise but the breeze. No eyes but the ones I was learning to master.

I sat cross-legged at the edge, the sky dimming into twilight purples and gold. My breath slowed.

In my One Purple Eye, I saw them.

The Rinnegan.

It gleamed even in darkness. This power… it wasn't something I could afford to use sloppily. If Madara was returning—and worse, if the plot spiraled toward the Otsutsuki—I had to be ready. Not just strong. Precise. Intentional. Creative.

I opened my eyes. Time to begin.

Deva Path – Gravity Manipulation

The wind stirred lazily around me as I stood in the clearing, just outside the range of Konoha's western edge. The late evening sun painted the sky in amber and rose, a deceptive calm before the chaos to come.

Minato stood across from me, calm as ever. His reanimated body glowed faintly, chalky skin flawless despite what he'd endured. He smiled lightly, one hand in his pocket.

"I assume you're not going easy on me, Kazekage?"

"No," I said plainly. "This is a test."

He nodded. "Good. I'd rather you test it on me than on someone who can't regenerate."

Jiraiya stood off to the side, arms folded, and Naruto leaned forward eagerly, trying to suppress his excitement.

I took a breath.

Since unlocking the Rinnegan, I'd been studying its techniques. Most required intense chakra control—but the Deva Path, the manipulation of attractive and repulsive forces, had started to feel… intuitive. Like the weight of sand, it answered my will.

Now, I wanted to push it further.

I extended one hand—open palm, fingers spread. There was no need to summon a black satellite. That was Nagato's method.

Mine would be more effiecent.

I focused everything on Minato's position. Not the space around him… but his exact location. My chakra lanced out, marking him as the center of a singularity.

"Chibaku Tensei" I whispered. 

A tremor split the earth beneath his feet.

Then—it began.

Chunks of rock and dirt launched inward from all directions, dragging trees, broken metal, even the air itself into a spiraling crush. The gravity I imposed didn't originate from above… it emanated from him.

Minato blinked in surprise. "Huh."

The pull intensified. The terrain folded and warped, curling toward him like a dying star pulling its surroundings into itself. The world bent—not with an explosion, but with a silent, merciless grip.

Within seconds, Minato was encased in a dense, rapidly forming orb of debris. The pressure mounted, the seams of earth shrieking as they tightened.

Then—silence.

The orb hovered slightly above the ground, humming with stored force.

Naruto gaped. "Wait—did you just… crush my dad?!"

Jiraiya raised a brow. "He'll be fine. Probably."

The sphere pulsed, then cracked.

With a flicker of yellow light, Minato reappeared outside the rubble, brushing dirt off his sleeves like he'd just walked through a sandstorm.

"Well," he said with a calm smile, "you weren't kidding about testing it."

"You felt the pressure?" I asked.

He nodded. "It was… concentrated. Far more efficient than launching a satellite. You made me the epicenter. That's dangerous, Gaara."

"Good," I said.

Jiraiya chuckled. "If you can pull that off mid-combat, most opponents won't realize what's happening until they're already buried."

Naruto muttered, "Note to self: do not piss off Gaara."

I lowered my hand, feeling the last traces of chakra ebb away. My breathing was steady.

Preta Path – Senjutsu Absorption

This one was trickier.

I entered into Sage mode for this.

I formed a makeshift Rasengan-sized wind chakra orb in my palm—unstable, buzzing with danger. Then, I raised my other hand and activated the absorption.

The wind flared with a burst of Natural Energy—fought me—but I stayed focused.

The natural chakra dissolved, siphoned cleanly into my skin like water into dry soil.

I exhaled. 

Good.

Asura Path – Mechanized Alteration

I extended my right arm. A soft click echoed as my flesh opened—mechanical plates shifting, reforming. A chakra cannon unfolded along my forearm, gleaming with latent power.

I aimed it across the ravine and fired.

A thunderous burst. The boulder ahead was atomized in an instant.

But raw firepower wasn't the point.

I shifted again—panels rotating. The cannon folded inward and became a grappling claw.

Fire.

The claw launched. I caught the ledge across the gorge and reeled myself in, flying forward and landing in a crouch.

Mobility. Attack. Defense. The Asura Path was limitless if applied right.

Human Path – Soul Reading

A rabbit emerged from the underbrush, unaware of the person standing before it.

I knelt and hovered my hand just above its head.

Read, don't rip, I reminded myself.

A flicker—an emotional pulse. I saw flashes of its memory, recent paths, fear... instinct.

No damage. Just insight.

I stood. "It's not just an execution tool. With finesse, this Path can be a source of reconnaissance."

Animal Path – Summoning

With a surge of chakra, I called forth one of the default Rinnegan summons.

A colossal centipede burst from the earth, massive and menacing.

I examined it. Brutal. But too obvious. Not subtle enough.

I dispelled it with a thought.

I began mentally designing new summons—beasts that could move underground, mimic terrain, even act as portable seal bearers.

Naraka Path – King of Hell

The forest dimmed. I summoned the King of Hell—towering, grotesque, divine.

Its jaw creaked open.

I took a kunai and made a shallow slice on my arm. Then I offered the wound.

The King's mouth enveloped it—and in an instant, healed me completely.

I smirked. "Field healing. I can repair some near-death people in the worst-case scenarios."

The sun dipped fully below the horizon now. Darkness embraced the landscape.

I stood, lowering my hood, eyes closed.

With a soft breath and silent footfalls, I vanished into the night—preparing for the days ahead.

XXXXX-Sand Clone POV

Even as I trained with the Rinnegan in Konoha, a fragment of my mind remained tethered elsewhere—back home, in the heart of Sunagakure.

A Sand Clone, perfectly stable and infused with my chakra, moved through the quiet corridors of the R&D department beneath the Kazekage's Tower. I'd created it for this exact purpose: multitasking between two fronts. War was coming. I didn't intend to let Suna be caught unprepared.

"Proceed with the chakra integration test," I instructed calmly through the clone, nodding to the two engineers at the workbench. They were old colleagues of mine from before I became Kazekage—genius craftsmen, though they lacked the imagination to push boundaries.

That's where [Inspired Inventor] came in.

Ever since I'd awakened this skill in this world, I'd slowly begun repurposing the skill—treating chakra manipulation like code, jutsu like blueprints. And with knowledge from the Boruto timeline lodged in my head like a ticking time bomb, I knew what we could achieve if we got ahead of the curve.

On the table in front of us sat a prototype: a compact wrist-mounted tool designed to store and deploy chakra capsules. Nothing too fancy—just a simple Earth Wall jutsu scroll for now. But if the framework worked, we'd scale fast.

"Inject chakra," I instructed.

One of the engineers pressed the embedded seal trigger. A small ripple shimmered across the floor as a thin wall of hardened earth sprang up with a soft thud. Success. Crude, but it worked.

"Refine the seal array and switch to water-based jutsu next," I said. "We'll need elemental diversity for battlefield support."

I stepped back, arms crossed. In the background, blueprints littered the walls—schematics for projectile launchers, chakra absorption plates, modular armor with embedded resistance seals… All baby steps now, but they'd be vital pieces in the war effort.

I didn't plan to have every Suna ninja rely on these scientific ninja tools. But a handful of specialists, equipped with enhanced tech and scroll-based jutsu libraries, could shift the tide during critical battles. Especially if the Edo Tensei army ended up being as overwhelming as I feared.

XXXXXX-Gaara POV

I stood alone at the edge of the vast forest behind Konoha—far enough from prying eyes, yet close enough to return swiftly if needed. The breeze was quiet here, untouched by the constant hum of the village rebuilding. The world itself felt like it was holding its breath.

I took a slow step forward, the ground beneath my feet cracking slightly as I began to pour a thin current of chakra through the Rinnegan.

The Outer Path... It pulsed quietly inside me now, like a dormant storm beneath the surface of a calm sea.

I wasn't going to use it yet. Not fully. This was just... preparation. A quiet rehearsal before the real act.

My fingers brushed against the carved summoning formula I'd etched into the earth earlier that day. It spiraled outward from the center like a black lotus—perfectly tuned to the signature I could now feel buried somewhere beyond space itself.

The Gedo Statue.

It wasn't just a mindless husk or ancient artifact. I could feel its pull... heavy, oppressive, like the very embodiment of silence and death waiting to be awakened. Even now, without summoning it, I could sense its presence calling to me.

But this wasn't the time.

Not yet.

I knelt down, placing one palm on the circle, my other hand forming the half-ram seal. Just enough chakra flowed out to resonate faintly with the Outer Path.

I felt it twitch.

Just a flicker—like the statue acknowledged me.

I broke the seal immediately and stood up, breathing out slowly.

So it's still bound… for now.

As I broke the summoning seal and stood back up, the ground still humming faintly with residual chakra, something snapped. A pull—not physical, not quite spiritual either—dragged me inward. Before I could so much as react, the forest around me dissolved, replaced by the coarse, golden sands of my mindscape.

No... not now.

I found myself standing in the familiar desert. The oppressive stillness in the air made me tense instinctively. Then I saw him.

Ichibi no Shukaku.

The One-Tailed Beast. A monstrous raccoon dog, etched with swirling black curse marks that twisted along his sandy form. His eyes, usually manic and gleaming with raw hatred, were… still. Watching me.

I had removed the genjutsu suppression on him earlier, expecting a fight. I was ready for it—ready for his rage, his madness. But instead, he just stared.

Something about that made me far more uneasy.

"Ichi…Shukaku?" I asked hesitantly, avoiding the dismissive Ichibi title. I knew the tailed beasts were sentient and had some manner of intelligence. I wasn't sold on the human-like aspect, but I could appreciate that they were intelligent in their own way. Just not as intelligent as we were. Human-like intellect with that sort of power? There was no reason why they should not have ruled the shinobi world as gods before Hashirama and Madara were even born.

What he said next, though, shattered every expectation.

"Call me Shukaku, Gaara. Or… should I say [XXXXX]."

My heart stopped.

No.

No one had called me that name since… since my rebirth in this world. I had buried it. Abandoned it. I hadn't even thought of it aloud in years.

My breath caught in my throat. "How do you know that name?"

"I have been inside you for so long, have I not?"

"But our minds were separate," I said quickly, trying to regain control of the conversation.

"For a time, yes. The seal the old woman used had no such feature, but your Gamer's Mind did. It separated us. When you turned it off to trap me in that genjutsu… that wall fell. I had access to everything. Your thoughts. Your memories. Both lives."

His voice, though deep and rough, carried an unexpected calm—too composed for the being I once feared more than death.

I muttered under my breath, "And that made you less angry? Less crazy?"

Shukaku let out a deep, growling laugh. "Yes. I've watched every memory you possess—over and over. At first, it was to find a way to hurt you. I raged at them, hoping something would crack. It never did. And when the rage dulled… I kept watching. I was bored, Gaara. Boredom will drive even a demon to madness—or in my case, out of it."

I didn't respond. I let him speak.

"I watched every moment from your perspective—felt your grief, your fear, your triumphs. Your old world… your time in this one. I became you, in a way. At first, just bits and pieces. Then it all bled together. With enough repetition, your mind... subsumed mine. Not through force. Not through genjutsu. Just… time."

"And you're okay with that?" I asked, voice low. "I essentially brainwashed you."

"Maybe I'd have resented it once. But not now. You didn't steal my identity—you shared it. And in doing so… gave me peace. I don't want revenge. I want freedom. After the Fourth Great War, let me wander—build me a den near the village. I've developed a taste for civilization."

"Sure"

I stared at him, silent. I didn't expect any of this. But I wasn't about to reject an ally.

The rest of our time was spent reviewing everything we both knew. The Edo tensei Army. Obito. Madara. Kaguya. Black Zetsu. The Otsutsuki. The chaos to come.

"I have a plan to deal with all of it," I said. "But I want your help. You've got a voice. A connection to the other Tailed Beasts. I don't need you to explain reincarnation or the future to them—but you can guide them. Help me rally them."

Shukaku blinked. Then, with a rumble in his chest, he grinned. "Sure."

The desert was still.

I stood beside Shukaku, our shared silence stretching like the dunes that surrounded us. With a thought—one sharpened by focus and fueled by Shukaku's cooperation—I began the summoning. This wasn't like the typical ritual that tore the Gedo Statue into the real world. No. This was a spiritual tethering, a metaphysical invocation that would only occur here, in the endless sandscape of my mind.

A tremor surged beneath our feet.

Then the sky above cracked like shattered glass, and down from the heavens came a titanic form—blackened, grotesque, and ancient.

The Gedo Statue.

Its ten empty eyes stared down at us with no life, no malice—just hunger buried deep within its soul-stripped shell. But without the full Ten-Tails, it was dormant. Contained. Manageable.

For now.

I took a breath and glanced at Shukaku. He was calm. Grounded. Centered in a way I'd never seen before.

"It's time," he said.

I nodded.

A pulse radiated out from him, a reverberation of chakra imbued with his will. I didn't need to understand how it worked—it did. In the next breath, the mindscape shifted again.

One by one, glowing forms emerged like mirages out of the desert heat. I could feel them before I even saw them—ancient presences, immense, wary, powerful.

The Seven Tailed Beasts.

Matatabi. Isobu. Son Gokū. Kokuō. Saiken. Chōmei. Gyūki.

Kurama was not among them. That conversation… would come later.

They surrounded the Gedo Statue, not summoned, not shackled—but invited. Their chakra shimmered around them like veils of living flame, each aura distinct.

The air turned heavy with suspicion.

"What is this?" rumbled Son Gokū, eyes narrowed as he gazed at the statue. "A trick?"

"I wouldn't be here if it was," Shukaku said, voice steady and firm. "Nor would I have reached out to you."

Matatabi's tails flicked warily. "You? Speaking like that? What happened to the rabid runt who couldn't form a sentence without screaming?"

Shukaku snorted. "He got tired of being a prisoner and spent a few years thinking instead of ranting."

Some of them chuckled. Others remained silent.

"I brought you here," Shukaku continued, "because things are going to get bad. Really bad."

"Define 'bad,'" Gyūki said, skeptical but not hostile.

I stepped forward.

"There's a war coming. Not just shinobi against shinobi. This world will face things that were never meant to return. Uchiha Madara will rise from the dead. Ninja Aliens are coming in the future. If we're not ready... the world will end."

The silence that followed felt like the desert was holding its breath.

"I'm not asking you to be sealed again," I said quickly, before tempers could ignite. "I'm asking for chakra. When the time comes, when I need it—you lend me just enough to handle Madara. You stay free. You stay whole. And I help you stay alive."

"And why should we trust you?" Son Gokū asked, fire starting to roll off his body.

"Because I'm not your jailer," I said. "I'm your ally. Shukaku and I made peace. I want the same with you."

Shukaku stepped forward again. "I've been inside this one's head. Lived through his life. He's seen what we are. What we could be. He's not like the others. He's one of us now—even if he's still human."

Saiken bubbled, his many tails curling in. "I'm… willing to listen. Not much point in refusing if the world really is ending."

Chōmei's wings shimmered. "It's better than being turned into a weapon again…"

Kokuō gave a slow nod. Even Isobu said nothing—just shifted his massive form slightly closer, like a silent agreement.

Only Son Gokū and Gyūki held back. But even they didn't outright deny it.

I felt something shift then—a thread of connection starting to form. Faint, but real. They were still wary, still uncertain… but we had taken the first step.

And that was enough right now.

XXXXX-Underneath Suna

I stood alone in one of the reinforced chambers beneath the Kazekage tower in Suna, the ones Chiyo had retrofitted with seal-based chakra dampeners. The air smelled like cold stone and sterilized metal — a fitting scent for what I was about to do.

I rolled up my sleeve and flexed my hand. The palm was unblemished. For now.

It was a risk. A calculated one, but still a risk. I wasn't Uchiha. My body hadn't been genetically bred to accept the ocular power of the Sharingan without consequence. But I had already surpassed so many limitations placed on me by this world. Why stop now?

With a steady hand, I reached into the scroll beside me and unfurled it. Seals glowed briefly, revealing a small glass contain with an unknown preservatory liquid filling it. Inside: a single Sharingan, pulsing faintly with dormant power.

I'd sourced it carefully. Not stolen — reclaimed from Danzos corpse. 

This wasn't about power for power's sake. It was a contingency.

Izanagi. The power to rewrite reality at the cost of sight. A trump card for a moment when death or failure wasn't an option.

Izanami. The power to trap someone in an endless loop of fate and force them to acknowledge the truth. A weapon against enemies who refused to change or see reason.

I didn't know which one I would need. So I would prepare for both.

I stared down at my palm, then to the eye in the container. "Let's get this over with."

I numbed the nerves, applied the sterilizing seal formula, and began the procedure. Chiyo had offered to do it herself. I declined. This was something I needed to do with my own hands.

The pain hit halfway through the insertion, sharp and deep, like lightning lancing through bone. I gritted my teeth and kept going.

When it was done, I sat back, breathing hard. My palm stung — red and raw, with the freshly embedded Sharingan now half-lidded, closed in rest but still very much alive.

It would remain dormant most of the time, suppressed by my chakra and kept sealed with a layered sealing bandage I'd created. No one would know unless I activated it.

I flexed my fingers.

It responded, twitching faintly, as if acknowledging its new host.

XXXXXX-Konoha

I stood before Orochimaru in the dimly lit room, the familiar scent of incense and old books filling the air. The ritual was nearly complete, and I could feel the familiar pull of chakra from the ground beneath me. The reanimation jutsu was at its peak, and the summoning circle glowed with an eerie light.

"You've assured me this will work, Orochimaru?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tension in my chest.

Orochimaru gave me a slight nod, his usual disinterested expression still firmly in place. "I've done it countless times before, Gaara. If you want Itachi back, he will be here. Just provide the necessary chakra and be patient."

I focused, pouring chakra into the ritual. The air crackled around me as the jutsu fully activated. The ground trembled beneath us, and I could feel the chakra surge upward. The silhouette of a figure began to materialize, rising slowly from the depths of the summoning circle.

As the figure solidified, the unmistakable presence of Itachi Uchiha took shape before us. His eyes, red with the Sharingan, scanned the room with a cool, detached gaze. There was no recognition in his eyes—not yet, anyway—but the quiet power radiating off him was unmistakable.

He blinked once, and then his gaze fell on me. For a moment, he said nothing, as if assessing me. There was no surprise, no shock. Only a calm acknowledgment.

"Kazekage-dono?" Itachi said quietly, his voice like smooth gravel. "I assume you have a reason for bringing me back?"

I took a deep breath, nodding. "Yes, there's much to explain, and I understand this might come as a shock. But... the situation is urgent."

Itachi tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me."

I exhaled slowly, deciding that the truth was the best course. "The masked man, the one behind the Akatsuki's actions, is still manipulating events from the shadows. He's responsible for Sasuke's death, and now, the entire shinobi world is at risk. We need to prepare for what's coming, and your assistance is necessary."

At the mention of Sasuke's death, Itachi's expression flickered, though only slightly.

For a brief moment, I saw the faintest flash of emotion cross Itachi's face. A brief flicker of sorrow, perhaps, or maybe rage.

But just as quickly as it came, it was gone

"I see..." His voice was barely a whisper. "Sasuke... is dead. And you seek my help because of this masked man?"

I nodded. "Exactly. He's been manipulating everyone. And with the Fourth Great Ninja War looming, we need every advantage we can get."

"We need to deal with Madara Uchiha, the man pulling the strings behind all of this. He's going to make his move soon. I'm planning to use the Totsuka Blade, the sword sealed within your Susanoo, to seal him away for good."

Itachi's gaze sharpened. "The Totsuka Blade… it can seal the strongest of souls. Are you suggesting that Madara—"

"Yes," I interrupted. "He will be reanimated, just like you. And he cannot be killed by ordinary means. But with the Totsuka Blade, his soul will be trapped, sealed within its eternal prison."

I stepped forward, my voice firm. "We'll need you to wield it, Itachi."

Itachi's gaze flickered with understanding. The Totsuka Blade—the sword sealed within his Susanoo—was one of the few weapons that could deal with Madara. A weapon capable of sealing away even the strongest of souls. Itachi's Sharingan spun for a moment as he considered the situation.

"I understand," he said quietly, his tone far more serious now. "If sealing Madara is the only option, then I will lend you my strength. But there is only one condition."

I raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. "What?"

Itachi met my gaze steadily. "I will help, but only if you promise to try and revive Sasuke when you are able to. He was my little brother, and I failed him."

"Sure" I casually said.

Itachi stood in silence for a moment, as if weighing the situation in his mind. Then he spoke again, his voice quieter but still carrying authority.

"Then, let's prepare. There's much to be done."

With that, the conversation came to a close. Itachi's presence was as calm and calculating as ever, but I could sense the depth of his resolve. Sasuke's death had clearly weighed heavily on him, and now he had a reason to fight once more.

We had one less problem to worry about for now. Itachi's assistance was invaluable, and with his strength, the chances of victory against Madara had just increased significantly.

XXXXXXX-Konoha Outskirts

I found them just beyond the village — Naruto tossing rocks into the stream like a child with no worries in the world. Minato stood beside Jiraiya, arms folded, the two of them chuckling over something I didn't care to overhear.

It was a rare scene. A fleeting moment of peace. And I was here to end it.

"We need to talk," I said, stepping into the clearing.

All three turned to me. I saw their smiles fade, replaced with the seriousness I needed from them.

"This is about the Nine-Tails, isn't it?" Minato asked, his voice calm. Unshaken.

I nodded. "You're a reanimated soul… a vessel holding half of the beast's chakra. But Naruto—he needs all of it. The war that's coming won't be kind to someone only half-prepared."

Jiraiya squinted. "You sure that won't break him? I've seen jinchūriki lose control with half that much power."

"I'm not suggesting we tear it out," I replied. "I have the Outer Path now. I can transfer it seamlessly. No harm to anyone."

Minato didn't hesitate—not even for a breath. "Then do it. Naruto needs it more than I do."

Naruto looked between us in shock. "Wait, what? You're just giving it to me? Isn't that dangerous or something?"

"It will make you whole," I told him. "The beast's full chakra was always meant to be reunited. And we'll need it when the time comes."

I raised my right hand slowly, the bandaged palm facing Minato. I could feel the Rinnegan in my eye beginning to glow, chakra spiraling as I focused. A single seal with my left hand… and then, I felt it — that deep, ancient pulse in my core.

From the center of my palm, a purple ethereal chain slithered out, humming with life. Engraved with the marks of the Outer Path, it moved like a serpent of divine law.

Minato braced himself and nodded once. "I'm ready."

The chain plunged into his gut, and I saw the moment it pierced the seal.

Chakra surged outward — vast, dense, alive — and the yin half of the Nine-Tails began to unravel from his form. The beast didn't roar. It simply was, like a living storm coiled in chakra. I guided the chain through the air and then embedded it into Naruto's seal.

His eyes went wide. He gasped — not from pain, but the sheer pressure of power filling his body.

For a moment, he dropped to one knee. I didn't move to help him.

The transfer completed.

The chain retracted, slinking back into my palm with a faint hiss. I flexed my fingers as the bandages rewound themselves by habit. Naruto was still breathing heavily, but upright.

"…whoa," he muttered. "That actually felt… kind of good?"

Minato smiled, soft and warm. "It's all yours now, son."

I gave Naruto a small nod.

No congratulations. No celebration.

We weren't done. Not yet.

(End of Chapter)

A/n: You can recommend anything that Gaara may have missed in his preparations.