The Sage of Six Paths—Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki—was dead.
This time, truly and utterly dead.
The chakra that had accumulated over millennia, together with his lifetime of bloodline mastery, his very spirit imbued with the will and regrets of countless ages, had now condensed into the golden elixir resting in Selene's palm.
"To end all conflict, to die without regrets... such fine words you speak," Selene murmured, tilting her swanlike neck slightly, her azure eyes gleaming faintly crimson beneath the glow of divine law. Fragile crystal-like veins pulsed beneath her skin, suppressing the lingering resonance of her supreme authority—'Cognitive Domination.'
She held the pill delicately between her fingers.
It was a perfectly spherical object, translucent and glowing with a golden-red hue, as if carved from agate. About half the size of her palm, it shimmered faintly, rippling with mysterious arcs of light. Within its luminous depths flowed radiant energy, its surface undulating like water. The patterns—rings of soft violet radiating outward—were not etched but alive, like the iris of a living eye. The reflected glow painted Selene's features with a warm, ethereal halo.
Big enough. Brilliant enough.
Compared to this dazzling elixir refined from the Sage of Six Paths himself, the small, bean-sized pills she had previously concocted using Ōtsutsuki Toneri and Edo Tensei Madara Uchiha were pitiable—cheap trinkets, dull and ordinary by contrast.
In fact, Madara was even inferior to Toneri.
Then again, it made sense.
Toneri was the descendant of Hagoromo's younger brother, Hamura Ōtsutsuki; Madara, the descendant and reincarnation of Hagoromo's elder son, Indra. How could they compare to their progenitor? Even though Hagoromo no longer had a physical body, his spiritual essence was incomparable.
As for Madara—yes, he had awakened the Rinnegan before his death, but as an Edo Tensei soul, he was far weaker than Toneri, a living descendant of Hamura.
Edo Tensei allowed the replication of his Rinnegan powers, but only as faint remnants of the true "Almighty Push." Indra's reincarnation chakra had long departed his soul. His strength was more appearance than substance.
If Madara were revived in a living body, perhaps Selene could refine a higher-grade elixir from him.
Unfortunately, that seemed unlikely. His soul had been ravaged, left full of holes by Selene's violent extraction methods. Even if Obito performed Rinne Rebirth at the cost of his life, it would likely not restore him.
Selene sighed sincerely. The art of 'Alchemy Refinement' suited her far too well.
She couldn't help but reflect on her past—the days of raw consumption, when she devoured native gods of colonial worlds during the Empire's expansion, swallowing the consciousness of worlds and planetary wills like a primitive beast. It made her wince now at the memory.
"What was I even eating back then...?" she muttered. "So crude. So... crude."
Still, the Ōtsutsuki alchemical techniques had their own limitations. There was much to refine—improve—and perhaps even integrate with Honkai-based optimization. But that was a task for her true self.
"Well, the wise adapt," she smiled softly, recalling Hagoromo's final words.
Efficient, she thought. Perhaps it was her use of cognitive authority that tipped the scales—perhaps that was the final weight upon the Sage's balance of decision. Or perhaps, just perhaps, the so-called Sage of Six Paths genuinely loved the shinobi world he had created.
It didn't matter. The result was all that mattered.
And his wish was hardly incompatible with the Empire's vision.
"Knowing Durandal, there's no way she'd conduct a massacre in postwar shinobi lands. Once the standard colonial administrative systems are in place, the shinobi world might finally see peace."
Ending wars was simple enough. Would an Imperial governor allow her jurisdiction to descend into constant battle?
Ensuring that no one starves or freezes—that was routine governance. The Sacred Selene Empire might impose heavy taxes, but would its administration ever allow its citizens to go hungry, unclothed, or leave orphans dying in the streets?
And just like that—
It was over.
Though Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki possessed vast power, boundless knowledge, and grand ideals, he remained limited by the very world he sought to transcend. Even he could not propose conditions that strayed too far from the reality of the shinobi world.
With a faint sigh at the thought, Selene dismissed the matter from her mind.
The war still needed to be fought. Imperial soldiers required battle merit and trophies; the thick-skulled masses that made up most of the shinobi world were the sort who would not yield until they had been beaten into submission.
Without iron and blood to drive the lesson home, no amount of reason could make a shinobi with broken logic submit willingly.
"See? They're being obedient now, aren't they?"
Selene looked down from atop Konoha's defensive wall.
On the road cleared by Imperial tanks, tactical Titans, and other war machines, chaos filled the air—the sounds of life amid ruin: explosions, screams, crying, pleas for mercy. Families emerged from shelters, carrying the elderly and leading children, trudging forward under the watchful, predatory gazes of Imperial auxiliary soldiers.
At first, the Imperial envoys sent to negotiate surrender had been driven out by arrogant Konoha shinobi. No matter how eloquent their words, most refused to yield until the blade was pressed against their throats.
Selene stood upon the wall, overlooking the war-torn shinobi settlement.
"Better short pain than long suffering," she murmured.
Tucking away the glowing crimson-gold elixir, her form dissolved into motes of light, scattering into the void.
...
Uchiha Obito thought he was about to die—but the overwhelming vitality of the Ten-Tails' jinchūriki body kept him clinging to life.
He no longer knew how many times that accursed woman from beyond the stars had smashed him into the earth. Every bone in his body had been shattered countless times—each time mended, each time broken anew. All he knew was that their battle had raged from the familiar lands of the Five Nations all the way across the endless ocean.
"I won't accept this!"
He roared in anguish. The cry echoed within the sixfold ring of Truth-Seeking Orbs that encased him—only for him to be struck once again by a colossal, blue-and-white lance, its radiance magnificent and merciless. It hammered him into the depths below. Blood and tears spilled from his eyes.
Years of struggle and calculation—all of it seemed like a cruel joke. Every plan, every sacrifice, now reduced to nothing.
This time, truly, he was out of options.
As islands collapsed and coastal lands sank beneath the roaring sea, millions of tons of water surged like mountains, crashing and falling, mirroring the chaos within Obito's mind as he plunged into the abyss.
"It's over."
Whoom—BOOM!
Blood sprayed. A torrent burst from Obito's chest, splattering before Durandal as she descended from the heavens like a blazing comet. The droplets twisted midair, refracting light as the knight's spear—Hler's Ataraxia—pierced straight through his chest.
The overwhelming force shattered his body into fragments. The seabed collapsed beneath them, and the ocean raged, rising into waves thousands of meters high.
"No! It's not over yet!"
Coughing up blood laced with violet-red corruption particles, Obito's half-destroyed body twitched violently. His features contorted with rage and agony as raw chakra erupted from within him. With a brutal wrench, he twisted his body aside—
Rip—
His mangled form tore itself free from the impaling lance, muscles snapping, bone and sinew tearing apart. A thousand meters away, he reappeared—his torso half-severed, spine warped, splinters of bone jutting out grotesquely. It was a horrifying, bloody sight.
"You..."
Durandal's eyes widened in shock. Drawing a deep breath, she pulled her spear free and fixed her gaze upon him—upon that face, twisted beyond recognition, smeared with blood and hatred, more beast than man.
She couldn't understand what drove Obito to keep fighting.
If she wasn't mistaken, he was the very man who had incited the shinobi alliance's civil strife and infighting. Attacked by the Empire, rejected by his own kind—what purpose could possibly give such iron will to endure?
Was it power? The greed to claim the God Tree for himself?
No. That wasn't it. Durandal could sense the conviction beneath his madness—a purpose, faint yet unyielding.
"Hand over the God Tree," she commanded, her voice steady.
"Never!"
A pale, cracked hand, webbed with fissures, clutched tightly at the gaping wound where flesh and blood still writhed and knotted together—a mangled parody of a heart. Madness flickered in Uchiha Obito's eyes.
"This is my life's wish! No one will take her from me! Not Madara, not the shinobi world, not even you!!!"
The light of his Rinnegan flared brighter than ever as he roared—
"Divine... Chibaku Tensei—!"
But the instant he formed the final seal—splurt! Blood erupted.
The fading gleam in his eyes died out; the overwhelming surge of chakra halted abruptly.
Hhhhkk—hhhkk—hhhhhkk!
Foaming blood gushed from his mouth. His trembling hands could no longer hold the jutsu's seal. His jaw split open, dripping with gore and fragments of viscera, and a guttural, inhuman scream tore from his throat.
Expression unreadable, Durandal lowered her ornate spear and said softly, "General Pandia."
"It's me."
A crimson-stained hand burst through Obito's back, impaling his chest from behind. Blood spattered in a long arc.
Ssssss...
The activated Honkai corrosion particles sliced through his pale flesh, fragmenting it into uneven pieces. Emerging fully, Selene flicked her wrist, tearing out all of Obito's ribs in one motion before seizing his throat with her other hand.
"Holding back? That's not like you, General Durandal. And don't look at me like that. Surely you weren't considering recruiting this one?"
Selene smiled faintly. "Your judgment..."
"The Empire isn't a trash dump for wayward fools. And besides, he had no intention of submitting anyway. Why force it? Does our Sacred Empire lack for murderers who betray their masters?"
Durandal frowned, disbelief crossing her face. "Betrayed... his master?"
During their fight, she had sensed an indomitable will within Obito—unyielding, driven. It had earned a sliver of her respect, even admiration between warriors.
"Indeed. Quite the dramatic tale, really."
Durandal's expression darkened immediately.
Thunk.
Her spear struck the ground heavily. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she sighed wearily. "So it was all a waste... Forgive me for making a fool of myself before you, General Pandia."
"No... not at all." Selene smiled faintly. "From you, General Durandal, I see the noble image of an Imperial knight—one who embodies every virtue our soldiers should possess. Perhaps... a little idealistic. But intelligence matters most."
As she spoke, she felt the hateful, dagger-like gaze stabbing into her. Tilting her head slightly, her cool, imperious eyes met Obito's Rinnegan—eyes burning with hatred and fury.
She had no interest in the ramblings of a fool blinded by love.
"The Ten-Tails' jinchūriki... Unfortunately for you, what we require is only the Ten-Tails—not its vessel."
Her grip on his throat tightened. Without a flicker of emotion, Selene's strength intensified.
The monstrous Honkai corruption within him stirred like molten magma, flowing under her control toward the Ten-Tails sealed within.
Instantly, blood gushed out in torrents. Obito's eyes widened; scarlet streamed down from their corners, staining his face red.
Cracks webbed across his skin. His body looked as though it had been glued together from shattered porcelain.
A moment later, as the Six Paths sealing technique binding the Ten-Tails collapsed, Obito let out a broken moan. His form melted away—his flesh twisting, contorting, and finally bursting apart.
Everything that had once been Uchiha Obito dissolved under the backlash of the Ten-Tails and the surging Honkai energy, scattering as ash and fragments into the ocean.
All that remained was a sealed, compressed cube—scarlet and translucent, glowing ominously in Selene's palm.
Closing her fingers around it, Selene turned to Durandal, who stood beside her, visibly dispirited. She couldn't help but laugh softly.
Of course she understood Durandal's frustration—after all that effort, she'd hoped to convert a "Tree Planter" of the Ōtsutsuki lineage. Instead, it had all been for nothing—a performance for a thankless wolf.
"General Durandal," Selene said, her tone that of a seasoned mentor as she patted the knight's shoulder. "If you wish to win over a true member of the Ōtsutsuki clan, I might know someone suitable."
She pointed toward the moon.
"A mother, hunted by her own kin and betrayed by her child... Perhaps you should offer her comfort. Extend an olive branch—it's something your Valkyries excel at, isn't it?"
Resting her chin lightly on her hand, Selene added with a knowing smile, "And if you fail—then you'll simply have to eliminate her."
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