"My name is Madara Uchiha. I was the eldest of five sons, born into the Uchiha clan during the chaos of the Warring States Period.
Back then, war was not a choice—it was the world itself.
My father, Tajima Uchiha, believed we were born to fight, that killing was the only proof of our existence.
But I questioned it. Even as a child, I wondered if shinobi were meant only for bloodshed.
Of course, no one listened. I was too young, too naive.
I used to go down to the river alone, tossing stones across the water as if I could cast my troubles away with each splash.
That's when I met him—Senju Hashirama."
Uchiha Kai stared blankly at the weathered pages. He hadn't expected the scroll Madara Uchiha guarded so fiercely to be a personal diary.
"A diary?" Kai muttered. "Madara… you really kept something like this?"
Even stranger, it didn't begin with their legendary battles, nor any strategy or plan—but with emotions, memories.
Kai kept reading, conflicted between fascination and confusion.
"I'll never forget the first time I saw him.
That ridiculous haircut, the way he snuck up behind me while I was skipping stones.
He wasn't cautious enough to be a ninja, not yet. And he talked—endlessly.
I should've been wary. He was clearly sharp. But for some reason, I didn't walk away.
He made me laugh.
For a time, I forgot we were enemies."
Kai rubbed his temples. Seriously? Not a word about the first real battle? Nothing about the Valley of the End yet? Just... childhood anecdotes?
He flipped a few more pages. The tone shifted.
"They called us prodigies—leaders even as children. We stood on opposite sides, Uchiha and Senju.
But Hashirama... he wanted peace. And so did I. We tried to build it. Together, we founded Konohagakure.
But the world refused to change.
He made Tobirama his successor, the same man who distrusted and hunted our clan.
That was the moment I knew: Hashirama's dream would become our nightmare."
Kai's breath caught slightly. These weren't the words of a monster—but of someone broken by betrayal.
He continued reading.
"I left the village and challenged Hashirama one final time at the Valley of the End.
I was defeated—fatally so. But I had prepared.
I activated Izanagi in my right eye moments before death, rewriting my reality.
While Tobirama and the others believed I was gone, I lived.
A shadow clone in my place, a corpse buried in Konoha's mountains.
And I... vanished.
This time, I would act from the shadows."
Kai's eyes narrowed. So it was true. He used Izanagi after all... The battle records had only been rumors.
Madara's writing became more erratic, yet deeply personal.
"Hashirama... I hear your body is failing. Even your strength has its limits.
You were always too noble for this world.
I wanted to visit your grave—but I couldn't bring myself to.
Instead, I drank alone tonight. Just one jug. One toast.
To you."
"The peace we created was flawed.
Nations still war. Hatred festers.
This 'one village, one country' dream has only reshaped violence, not ended it.
I will correct it. I will cast the Infinite Tsukuyomi and create a true peace—
A world where you and I never had to fight."
Kai turned the page and stopped short.
"Hashirama...
Thanks to your cells, I awakened the Rinnegan.
Do you know what that means?
I now hold the power of the Sage of Six Paths.
With the Demonic Statue, I am nearing the end of my plan.
I'm aging, yes... but if it succeeds, war ends forever."
"I once thought the Sharingan was everything.
But when I transplanted my eyes to a boy of the Uzumaki clan, I discovered something more.
Even without vision, I could feel my power—
Susanoo, born from chakra and will, not just the eyes.
My Yin Release, fused with chakra and memory, made it real.
The power doesn't die with the eye... it waits."
Kai's heart pounded. This was the proof he needed. So Susanoo could still be summoned... without active eyes?
Madara's closing entry was disjointed, almost delirious.
"Do you remember, Hashirama?
When you stood behind me at the river?
Even now, when I turn my back, I still feel someone watching me.
I don't know if it's memory... or you.
But soon... we'll meet again."
Kai slowly lowered the scroll. The last pages were incoherent, just faint chakra traces and scribbles, but he didn't need more.
Madara had confirmed what he long suspected—
That the true nature of Susanoo was not only ocular but spiritual—an embodiment of Yin chakra, memory, and intent.
The implications were massive.
But Kai also felt disturbed. As he activated his Mangekyō Sharingan in meditation, the chakra surged unnaturally. He closed his eyes, but he still saw.
Within the red world of perception, a looming figure—
A colossal armored warrior with no face, shrouded in suffocating pressure.
He could feel its gaze on him.
"That's..."
Kai gasped as he forcibly canceled his dojutsu, collapsing in sweat.
"...My Susanoo?"