After Kisame departed, another pitch-black figure emerged beside Obito.
"Obito, do you really think he's trustworthy?" It was none other than Black Zetsu, who had turned tail and fled the moment Isshiki appeared.
Back then, when Black Zetsu laid eyes on Isshiki, he panicked and retreated immediately. But even as he fled, he split off a fragment of his will to remain behind, lurking in the area.
Originally, his intent had been to gather intelligence on Isshiki to prepare for future confrontation. Yet unexpectedly, he stumbled upon something else of value.
However, since it was only a fragment of his will, the intel he gained was extremely vague. For example, he learned that the ancestor of the Uzumaki clan had perished together with Isshiki—but he never realized that Nagato had inherited Isshiki's power.
Whether this was due to his own limitations… or someone deliberately misleading him, he could not say.
"Don't worry. Deep down, Kisame truly believes in the Eye of the Moon Plan," Obito declared confidently. After all, Kisame was someone he had personally recruited.
"…Let's hope so." Black Zetsu gave a small nod and fell silent.
Obito continued, "Don't forget—we may not hold the advantage right now, but we are the ones in the shadows. Nagato's so-called peace is nothing more than a fleeting fantasy. The moment he falls from that false pedestal, the world will plunge into an even bloodier war."
"The Five Great Nations and their villages—none of them are benevolent. They will never tolerate being ruled over by the leader of a mere small village."
"Isn't that the very reason those certain people reached out to us in the first place?"
"So we just wait… quietly, patiently… for the good news to arrive."
The conversation, which seemed on the verge of ending, reignited with Obito's teeth-grinding bitterness.
"That damned ancestor of the Uzumaki clan—he played us like fools!"
"If not for his deception, we wouldn't have wasted so much time. Had we gone all out, the Tailed Beasts would already be nearly gathered!"
During this time, the two had not sat idle. Following faint traces and fragments, they had uncovered the Uzumaki's true identity. And, in the process, the two of them had reconciled their misunderstandings and begun working together again.
Thus was formed: The Naruto Victims and Deceived Association.
"At least," Black Zetsu muttered, "that man is dead now."
After being toyed with for so long, there was no way he could suppress his fury. He, the manipulator of history, the eternal deceiver—when had it ever been his turn to be deceived?
Even if the trick had not been aimed directly at him, misleading the one he manipulated—Obito—was the same as deceiving him by extension.
Isshiki's appearance had also planted deep unease in Black Zetsu's heart. Even if this time Isshiki perished along with the Uzumaki, what about next time? Or the time after that?
He had to revive his mother as soon as possible. Once she returned, all problems would vanish. That was why he sought out Obito and made peace.
"Good riddance!" Obito spat with venom, still seething. No matter how many times he said it, it never eased his anger. Of all things, he despised lies most of all. "That unstable factor is gone for good."
"So—where do we stand in our plan now? We can't afford any more setbacks."
Black Zetsu chuckled darkly. "Relax. Now only one piece remains."
"And arrangements have already been made to bring him in."
"Then I can rest easy," Obito replied.
"Why is it… that ever since returning from that world, my body feels so much lighter?"
Back home, Naruto kept turning his hands over, staring at them. Perhaps it was his imagination, but ever since saving the Minato couple of the parallel world, it felt like not only had a knot in his heart unraveled—but his own life force had grown, if only slightly.
From within, Kakarot's voice spoke: 'That's the rise of your mental state—your heart, your realm. I once heard Grandpa Gohan say that when you elevate your state of mind, your power naturally advances as well. That's something I only truly grasped after becoming a Super Saiyan.'
'I didn't expect you, Naruto, to achieve such growth already.'
At first, Naruto brightened at the thought—after all, who wouldn't be happy about growing stronger? But then came the second half of Kakarot's words, and his face fell flat.
'No, no, no. Your kind of improvement is more like a worker ant becoming a soldier ant. Yours is nothing like your "pheasant-into-phoenix" transformation.'
Super Saiyan—such a distant, unreachable phrase.
If only he could transform into one himself. Coolness aside, the sheer power was what truly mattered.
The moon—also known as the lunar sphere—is Earth's natural satellite, a round celestial body orbiting the planet.
In other worlds, it is simply that: the moon, vital to Earth's biosphere and tides.
But in the shinobi world, it is different. This moon was not a natural body. It was created artificially, a massive conglomeration of stone bound together by sealing arts.
Upon it stood a magnificent, resplendent palace.
Unlike other worlds, this moon—formed by the Chibaku Tensei—possessed air and oxygen, an impossibility made real.
Here once dwelled Hamura Ōtsutsuki, the younger son of Kaguya, and his descendants.
For generations, their clan lived upon this celestial prison, dedicated solely to guarding the seal of their mother, Kaguya.
Meanwhile, Hagoromo, the elder brother, remained on Earth to guard the seal of the Ten-Tails. Yet once he split the Ten-Tails into nine separate beings and granted them life and wisdom, that burden was finally resolved.
Perhaps due to the curse of sealing away their own mother, the Hamura lineage dwindled with time, growing ever smaller.
Until now, when only a single descendant remained.
His name—Ōtsutsuki Toneri.
A figure with delicate willow-like brows, pale skin, and short hair of bluish white, resembling a porcelain doll. He wore simple white robes adorned at the collar with a circle of tomoe.
Eyes closed, he sat gracefully in the garden of the palace, savoring his afternoon tea.
Beside him stood several stiff-faced attendants.
They were the Six Puppets of the Ōtsutsuki—a creation of the Hamura line, forged generation after generation. These constructs possessed simple self-awareness, obeying Toneri's commands without question.
Their power was formidable, surpassing by far even Sasori's "Red Secret Technique: Performance of a Hundred Puppets."
Compared in terms of intricacy and ability, they were leagues beyond anything crafted by ordinary puppet masters of the shinobi world.
"The tea tastes excellent today." After sipping his red tea and sampling a sweet, Toneri gave quiet praise.
"Well done."
Gentle, elegant, every inch the refined noble.
But his words met no reply. The Ōtsutsuki puppets could not converse; their intelligence was simple, limited.
Within this palace, apart from Toneri, no other living human remained. Only the puppets.
Click. Click.
One such puppet stepped before Toneri, presenting a sealed letter.
"A message… from the surface dwellers?"
"…Very well. I understand."
As he spoke, Toneri slowly opened his eyes. And in contrast to his refined demeanor, they were terrifying.
Where his pupils should have been—there were only two pitch-black voids.
Ōtsutsuki Toneri was born without eyes.
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