Time flies.
One blink, and several years had slipped by like a one eyed snake through a hole. Pause.
The ninja world had returned to an eerie kind of peace. Not true calm—more like that awkward silence before someone flips a table.
But in the back of everyone's mind, one name still lingered like a ghost that refused to be forgotten.
Zeldris.
Whether whispered in curiosity or muttered in fear, the name never quite disappeared.
Meanwhile, in Konoha, things looked calm on the surface. Birds chirped. Kids trained. Dango was eaten.
But underneath? Boiling tension.
Ever since the Nine-Tails tore through the village like a wild Friday night, the Uchiha clan's relationship with the village had cracked.
Add the suspicious death of Uchiha Shisui to the mix, and that crack turned into a canyon.
Now, the Uchihas were planning something.
And the Konoha higher-ups? They weren't planning to sit around and wait for the fireworks.
Dusk. Somewhere outside Konoha.
In a dark basement that definitely failed any proper health inspection, two silhouettes sat facing each other.
On one side: an old man wrapped in enough bandages to qualify as a mummy, single eye glaring with purpose.
Danzo Shimura.
On the other: a figure in an orange spiral mask, single Sharingan glowing ominously.
Uchiha Obito. Or rather, the guy currently cosplaying as Uchiha Madara for dramatic flair.
Danzo's tone was cold and clipped.
"Konoha's top brass has agreed. Uchiha needs to go. Even Hiruzen stopped pretending to be neutral."
Obito tilted his head. His Sharingan glinted like a warning light.
"You're all that scared of one clan?"
Danzo's one good eye twitched slightly.
"It's not fear. It's… preventative patriotism."
Obito chuckled. "That's one way to rebrand 'paranoia.'"
Danzo didn't flinch. His poker face could probably tank a Rasengan.
"The Uchiha are a threat to peace."
"And yet, here you are, plotting with one."
Danzo's tone sharpened. "Don't get it twisted. You and I are using each other."
Obito leaned back in his chair like he was lounging at a tea shop.
"Relax, I know. Once the Uchiha are gone, we both get what we want."
Then Danzo's eyes narrowed.
"Speaking of which… what about Zeldris?"
Obito's answer came without hesitation.
"I'll handle him. He'll come to us."
Danzo snorted. "If he does, he's not leaving. I'll make sure of that. Imagine—removing the Uchihas and that monster in one go."
He let the idea marinate for a second.
"Now that's what I call a productive evening."
Obito chuckled darkly.
"You really think he'll go down that easy? Danzo, he eats ANBU for breakfast."
Danzo frowned, but Obito continued calmly.
"Don't worry. If brute force fails… I have a second plan."
Danzo nodded, keeping his suspicions to himself.
"Just remember our deal."
Obito's Sharingan swirled. "Of course. You'll get what you 'deserve.'"
As his body dissolved into a vortex, Danzo muttered,
"I better."
Meanwhile… in the Land of Sound, aka Chill Mode HQ
Zeldris lay flat on the floor like a man with too much time and not enough world domination.
"Hmm… should be any day now."
He stared at the ceiling, deep in thought.
"The Uchiha Massacre… that big drama's around the corner. Which means Itachi's about to make his debut in the Akatsuki."
He scratched his chin.
"Maybe I should intercept him. Give him a better offer. Less eyeball stealing. More benefits. Dental."
Just then, his senses flared. A familiar chakra signature warped space nearby.
Zeldris didn't even sit up.
"Speak of the devil…"
With a twist in the air, a swirl of chakra appeared, and out stepped a cloaked figure.
Uchiha Obito.
Zeldris grinned, still lounging like he owned the universe.
I was just thinking about him. Weird how that works, huh?
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