Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

Obito touched his goggles, the lingering images of the dream still haunting his mind.

[That woman named 'Uchiha Nagi'...and...that demon-like 'me'.]

As the wind blew across the training ground, Obito suddenly felt that something had completely changed.

An eerie silence permeated the battlefield on the border of the Land of Fire.

There were no sounds of fighting, no booming of ninjutsu exploding, only the wind swirling sand and dust as it swept past the two opposing ninja clans.

Madara Uchiha stood at the forefront, clutching the gold-embossed secret document in his hand—a personal edict from the Daimyo of the Land of Fire. The words exuded an air of superior indifference, as if they were nothing more than pawns on a chessboard to be manipulated at will.

His crimson Mangekyou Sharingan turned to Hashirama Senju, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "See that? Hot Mom Hashirama!"

Madara's voice, deep and rumbling like thunder, echoed across the wilderness, "This is the ninja world you wanted to protect—"

He suddenly threw the secret document between the pillars; the paper fluttered in the wind like a dying white bird.

"The nobles drank their tea and laughed as they wrote down our death dates!"

Zhu received the secret document, his fingertips trembling slightly, his eyes unusually wavering, like a child whose faith had collapsed.

Why... even though it's been a truce for five years... even though we've both been trying...?

Your eternal kaleidoscope slowly turns, scanning the surrounding dense forest and cliffs. Something's not right.

A viscous, inhuman sense of being watched permeated the air, as chilling as a snake's tongue licking the back of the neck. But apart from you and Leng Xi, no one seemed to notice.

Lengxi silently approaches you, and the moment your shoulders touch, your chakra briefly merges.

"You noticed it too." His voice was very soft, almost swallowed by the wind.

You nodded slightly, your gaze sweeping over Izuna and Tobirama, who were talking in the distance. The two arch-enemies were sitting together, a rare sight, and the atmosphere was even somewhat peaceful.

This is abnormal, extremely abnormal.

The two of you parted ways tacitly, each disappearing into the shadows.

Izuna sat cross-legged on the rock, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the handle of his kunai.

Since this morning, his heart has been beating unusually fast, as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand.

Five years ago, he saw his own death in your kaleidoscope. The image of Tobirama Senju's Flying Thunder God Slash piercing through his chest and blood splattering on the other's white hair was as clear as yesterday.

At this moment, his nemesis sat right in front of him, yet there was no murderous intent in his red eyes.

"You...you wouldn't be using some new technique against me, would you?" Izuna narrowed his Sharingan, trying to find a flaw in Tobirama's face.

Tobirama was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "I had this idea before, but now... I don't plan to do it."

Izuna's pupils contracted slightly. Was he trying to change his 'fate'? Just like... him?

Tobirama glanced at Hashirama, who was confronting Madara in the distance, and lowered his voice even further, "Five years ago, Nagi Uchiha came to me."

He didn't continue, but Izuna instantly understood. So that's how it is; he too saw the 'future'.

Izuna suddenly smiled, the three tomoe in his Sharingan slowly rotating. "It seems you think the same way I do."

Tobirama gave a soft hum, which was taken as tacit agreement.

For the first time, an unsettling understanding emerged between the two, and they both wanted to give it a try.

Try to see if this so-called 'destiny' is truly unbreakable.

The setting sun, like blood, dyed the entire battlefield red.

Uchiha Izuna's pupils dilated slightly, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin and blooming into a glaring red plum blossom on Senju Tobirama's white hair.

His body slowly leaned forward and finally collapsed into Tobirama's arms. This nemesis, who should have killed him, had now become his last support.

"Izuna—!!!" Madara's roar tore through the sky.

His Susanoo collapsed in an instant, turning into countless blue chakra fragments. He stumbled and staggered towards Izuna, the patterns in his Mangekyou Sharingan twisting into a frenzied vortex.

Izuna's pupils were already dilating, but he still managed to raise his hand and grab Madara's clothes with difficulty.

"Brother...don't cry..."

His voice was as soft as the wind, yet a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "At least... this time it wasn't White Hair who did it..."

Not far away, Tobirama Senju stood frozen in place, his white hair stained with Izuna's splattered blood. His fingertips trembled uncontrollably, and the words you uttered five years ago echoed in his mind: 'Can a predetermined death truly be changed?'

Your Eternal Kaleidoscope stared intently at the ground, and the Golden Shield, the absolute defense that had once blocked countless fatal attacks, shattered like glass under the black creature's attack.

The power of the Six Paths... Only legendary powers can achieve this.

Lengxi stood beside you, a fear he had never felt before surfacing in his Sharingan eyes.

He witnessed firsthand how the black creature ignored all ninjutsu and vanished like a ghost through the earth.

"What... exactly is that thing?"

You didn't answer, your mind flashing back to the near-death moment years ago, the same black shadow, the same corrosive wound, the same...helplessness.

Lengxi futilely clawed at the ground, his fingernails carving five deep furrows in the soil.

Here it is again...

Once again... I watched helplessly as someone important died right before my eyes!

Hashirama's medical ninjutsu continued to be unleashed, and green chakra surged like a tide, enveloping Izuna's wounds.

"How could this be... Why can't it heal?!"

His voice carried an unusual panic. As the strongest medical ninja in the ninja world, he had never encountered an injury that even he himself could not heal.

Ban suddenly looked up, "Get out of the way—!"

He shoved Hashirama aside, hugged Izuna tightly, and unleashed his chakra, which manifested as solid black flames.

"I won't let you die... I won't let anyone take you away!"

His voice was hoarse like a demon's, yet tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.

Izuna's breathing grew weaker and weaker, and his vision gradually blurred. In his last moments of lucidity, he looked at Tobirama, who stood there in a daze, and his lips moved slightly.

It seems... we still lost. Fate is so cruel.

Chapter 77 Guilt

You look at Madara's collapsing back, then at Tobirama's stiff profile, and finally at Izuna's eyes, which are gradually losing focus.

"The power of the Six Paths..."

Your voice was soft, yet it made everyone look up abruptly.

"That black creature... is related to Hagoromo Otsutsuki."

Black Zetsu laughed silently underground. Fortunately, it had used the power left behind by the Feather Robe this time, otherwise it would not have been able to penetrate Hannya's Golden Release power.

It sensed the despair permeating the ground, the gradual collapse of Madara Uchiha's spirit, and the wavering faith of Tobirama Senju.

[Perfect, everything is going according to plan.]

It wriggled, burrowing deeper into the darkness, preparing to carry out its next move.

The shrine in the Uchiha clan compound was covered in pale paper flowers.

Izuna's coffin rested quietly in the center, its ebony wood engraved with the pattern of a flame fan. Under the candlelight, it seemed as if flames were flowing across the surface of the coffin. Madara knelt at the very front, his deep blue robe stained grayish-white by incense ash.

You stand beside him, your black hair falling down, and the eternal kaleidoscope also shimmers with a cold light.

The oppressive aura emanating from you made the air thick and heavy. The clansmen who came to pay their respects walked by quickly with their heads down, not daring to meet your gaze.

The current Uchiha clan possesses two pairs of Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan.

Everyone knows what this means.

Hashirama Senju and Tobirama Senju silently entered the funeral hall.

Hashirama placed a bunch of white chrysanthemums in front of the coffin, the petals still covered in morning dew. He looked up at Madara, his lips moved, but he said nothing in the end.

Tobirama stood behind his brother, his red eyes beneath his white hair sweeping over the coffin before quickly moving away.

The two silently retreated into the crowd, standing like two stone statues. Ban's fingertips traced the coffin, lingering on the patterns of the flame fan.

He could feel Izuna's eyes burning slightly in his own, as if his brother's soul was still watching him through those eyes.

Why... even though I possess the Eternal Kaleidoscope... can't even keep my most important family members with me?

Your hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. "The nobles have withdrawn their challenge."

Your voice was very soft, only he could hear it, “They are afraid.”

Ban chuckled softly, a laugh that seemed to have been squeezed out from the depths of hell, "Afraid?"

He slowly stood up, his eternal kaleidoscope staring directly at the sky outside the mourning hall. "I want them... to live in fear forever."

As night fell, the mourners dispersed.

Madara stood alone in the courtyard, the moonlight casting a long shadow of him. You silently walked up behind him, holding the short sword that Izuna loved most in his life.

You handed him the dagger, its scabbard still bearing traces of dried blood.

Madara took the sword, his fingertips tracing the old bandage wrapped around the hilt. It was the bandage Madara had personally wrapped around Izuna's neck when Izuna went to war for the first time at the age of twelve.

"Nagi," he suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse and barely audible, "If one day... I die, will you shed tears for me?"

You reach out and cup Ban's face in your hands, wiping away the blood and tears still wet at the corners of his eyes with your thumb. "No."

Her lips pressed against his cold forehead, "Because I will do anything... to resurrect you."

Your fingers smoothed the furrowed brow that never relaxed, even in his sleep. His breathing finally became long and even. His black hair was scattered on the pillow, and his eyelashes cast faint shadows under his eyes, proof that he hadn't slept for several days.

You rise silently, the deep blue robe slipping from Ban's tightly clenched fingers. Ban, still asleep, suddenly frowns, a muffled murmur escaping his throat, his fingers instinctively reaching for the void.

He placed the flame-shaped fan from beside his pillow into his palm, and Madara immediately quieted down, curling up like a child holding a sword.

The candlelight in the clan chief's mansion had long since gone out, with only a faint blue chakra glow floating in the study.

Sitting at Ban's desk, the ink brush traces sharp marks on the scroll, the characters as deep as if carved by a knife, and you reflect the words that gradually fill the scroll.

Otsutsuki... Pure Land... the power of the Six Paths... and Suku's corpse! The ink spread on the paper like dried blood.

Your fingertips trembled slightly, not from fear, but from a kind of boiling anger: the appearance of the black creature, Izuna's unhealable wound, and Su disappearing from the empty coffin.

All of this points to a terrifying truth: someone is manipulating the fate of the Uchiha clan.

Very light footsteps came from behind.

You didn't turn around, the pen tip continued to move across the scroll, until a pale hand reached out from the shadows and pressed down on your writing wrist.

Madara stood behind him, his Eternal Kaleidoscope swirling in the darkness, his eyes shadowed by heavy blue light, clearly indicating he was not truly asleep.

What are you looking for?

His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping, carrying lingering weariness and suppressed rage.

You slowly raise your head, meet his eyes, and say, "The truth."

Why didn't you wake me up?

You stroke his cheek. "You need to rest."

My thumb brushed against the corner of his chapped lips, where traces of blood from last night's bite still lingered.

Ban suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his arms. "I can't sleep without you."

The writing on the scroll gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

As the smudges swept across the words, the eternal kaleidoscope contracted slightly.

"Only the power of the Six Paths can break through the Metal Release and create wounds that cannot heal."

"And the source of the power of the Six Paths..."

Your voice trailed off as your gaze fell on the last line of text on the scroll: "Otsutsuki Hagoromo".

Madara suddenly remembered a legend he had read in an old book at the Nanga Shrine when he was a child: the sage who founded the Ninja Sect had long since become the illusory Sage of Six Paths.

What if... he never truly disappeared?

"Are you willing to believe me?"

Your voice is soft, and the eternal kaleidoscope flows in the shadows, reflecting the taut jawline of your face.

Ban's Adam's apple bobbed. "Believe in what?"