The power of the Ten-Tails remained unchanged, but at this point, becoming its jinchūriki was akin to becoming a living bomb—a bomb that Otsutsuki Hagoromo could detonate at any moment.
As long as someone became the Ten-Tails' jinchūriki, sealing them would be as effortless as a passing thought for Hagoromo. Worse yet, he could simply abandon the Ten-Tails and let its immense chakra tear apart the host from within.
Kaguya was almost certain: this new incarnation of the Ten-Tails had been prepared by Hagoromo specifically to prevent her resurrection.
Aside from those two obvious fail-safes, she had also noticed runes inscribed on its body—seals eerily similar to those developed by the shinobi of the modern world.
Although Kaguya didn't recognize these exact sealing techniques, with her divine perception, she could sense the energy within them. Their purpose was unmistakable—they absorbed chakra.
Simply put, if she followed Black Zetsu's plan and used the Ten-Tails to return, the likely outcome was grim: she would be revived, immediately sealed, and then slowly drained of her chakra by Hagoromo until she perished.
It was painfully clear that Otsutsuki Hagoromo had orchestrated every step of this trap—perhaps even Black Zetsu's thousand-year manipulation of the shinobi world had unfolded under his watch.
He hadn't eliminated Black Zetsu because it served his calculations—calculations meant to neutralize his own mother, the progenitor of chakra.
Kaguya had always longed to reclaim the chakra she had once dispersed across the world. But Hagoromo—her son and one of the prime recipients—had ambitions of his own.
Even if he didn't actively desire more power, the reality of the looming Otsutsuki threat from deep space would have forced his hand. He might have been revered as the Sage of Six Paths, an unmatched figure across the shinobi timeline, but the true danger came from beyond the stars.
His pale, Rinnegan-infused gaze watched everything below with cold detachment.
With each tailed beast sealed into it, the Gedo Statue—shell of the Ten-Tails—grew more terrifying.
Meanwhile, the shinobi world below, though united in appearance, remained fragmented by internal divisions. Any semblance of unity could collapse in an instant.
To Kaguya, it all felt meaningless.
Though enraged—tempted to unleash her All-Killing Ash Bones and erase the incomplete Ten-Tails and its annoying human overseers—she restrained herself. Rash action would only alert Hagoromo, who could be watching from any shadow.
Yet even if she continued to hide... what then?
Resurrecting through the Ten-Tails was out of the question. She had already seen through the trap—why walk into it?
Even if someone outside attempted to resurrect her using the Rinne Rebirth technique while the Ten-Tails had a host, she would reject it. No response. No cooperation.
But would avoiding resurrection solve the crisis? Not at all.
Hagoromo had prepared too well. His plan clearly involved reclaiming the chakra she embodied.
And then there was Otsutsuki Isshiki—lurking in a vessel, brimming with hatred for her. She couldn't believe he hadn't prepared some countermeasure for her return.
Worse still, beyond the solar system, three more Otsutsuki clan members could descend at any time.
The more she thought, the more despair crept into her heart. Kaguya nearly teared up.
She had too many enemies. Some were invincible. Others were simply too troublesome.
How had it come to this? All she wanted now was peace. If possible, she'd have chosen an obscure planet to hide on for eternity—never to be found by the Otsutsuki again. Was that so wrong?
Kaguya bit her lip. In that moment, she appeared less like a goddess and more like a helpless woman burdened by fate.
Pitiful and helpless.jpg.
So what could she do next? Every soul she saw in the shinobi world was either a native... or an enemy.
Wait—natives.
Suddenly, Kaguya remembered. There was one person she had seen recently—someone not native to this world, but also not her enemy.
Kawaki Aoba. That was his name, wasn't it?
Could he help her?
Did he have the power?
More importantly—why would he help her?
Doubt swirled in her mind. As a former branch family member of the Otsutsuki, Kaguya was raised in a world that followed the law of the jungle. She had long abandoned the notion of selfless aid. Kawaki Aoba would not help her just because she asked.
She needed leverage.
But what could she possibly offer that would make it worthwhile for someone like him to risk incurring the wrath of the Otsutsuki?
Assuming Kawaki Aoba was indeed powerful—someone capable of traveling through the universe and defying the Otsutsuki—then her thinking had to shift accordingly.
Yet she faced one significant problem: she was poor. Devastatingly poor.
When bargaining with someone of equal power, it's not about what they want—it's about what you have.
And right now... she had nothing.
Her chakra? It could be used as currency, yes. But giving it away would be no different from dying outright.
Still, no matter how long she mulled it over, the only viable path led to Kawaki Aoba.
It wasn't that she wanted to rely on him.
It was that she had no one else.
Everyone else was an enemy.
How was she supposed to survive in such a world?
Kawaki Aoba was her last hope.
All she needed from him was a simple favor—destroy the moon that sealed her.
'Let's just see what happens,' she told herself. 'If he refuses... then I'll act. I'll gamble that Hagoromo doesn't find me.'
With her course of action set, Kaguya even prepared herself for the worst outcome.
She wasn't a weak woman. She had clawed her way through despair before.
Her gaze—once aloof—now carried a hint of steel.
If she was to negotiate with Kawaki Aoba, she would make the deal perfectly.
At the same time, she considered throwing the shinobi world into deeper chaos—perhaps even drawing out Isshiki.
If that happened, even Hagoromo might be forced to show himself.
And then—perhaps—her odds of survival would increase.
In order to survive, Kaguya Ōtsutsuki would pursue any condition favorable to her resurgence.
Below, the resurrection of the Ten-Tails had reached its final stage. Obito Uchiha, having successfully acquired all the Tailed Beasts, was now preparing to become the Ten-Tails' jinchūriki. The Nine-Tails, the last piece, had been partially extracted.
The Nine-Tails was controlled through the genjutsu of Uchiha Obito's Mangekyō Sharingan, and its chakra was being forcibly sealed into the Demoniac Statue of the Outer Path (Gedo Mazō), manipulated through Obito's Rinnegan.
The Allied Shinobi Forces were on high alert. They understood that once the Ten-Tails was fully revived, it would trigger the true war of attrition—a battle for the fate of the shinobi world.
Yet what no one expected was how abruptly everything would spiral out of control.
The sealing process had proceeded smoothly until something strange occurred with the Nine-Tails.
The Sharingan's tomoe in its eyes—Obito's Mangekyō—began to flicker and fade. The illusion was breaking. Consciousness returned to Kurama, the Nine-Tails, and realizing its state, its fury ignited.
A malice-filled aura surged across the battlefield as its chakra lashed out violently. The Gedo Statue trembled, and even Obito's Rinnegan struggled to keep the beast's rage in check.
The shinobi were stunned. Many had never seen the Nine-Tails' true wrath. But they also noticed the signs: the Sharingan's influence was fading, the genjutsu breaking.
Shimura Danzō, observing from the sidelines, immediately deflected suspicion from himself. Narrowing his eyes, he turned toward Obito and asked coldly, "What's going on? How did the Nine-Tails break free?"
Obito replied coolly, "My Mangekyō's influence is waning. Controlling the Nine-Tails alone, especially after so many battles, is beyond my limit now. My eye power is nearly depleted."
Danzo folded his arms. "So, what you're saying is, there's nothing you can do?"
He then turned to the gathered Kage and shinobi generals. "You've heard it yourselves. This Uchiha is out of chakra. But with the strength we have here, can we not subdue a single Tailed Beast?"
But suspicion fell not on Obito alone. Ōnoki, the Tsuchikage, narrowed his eyes at Danzo.
"We don't doubt our ability to seal the Nine-Tails," he said gruffly. "But what we do doubt is you, Danzo. With your record and your reputation as the darkness of the Leaf, how can we trust you won't stab us in the back mid-battle?"
The crowd of shinobi subtly began to shift, their formation tightening around Danzo. The tension grew palpable.
Danzo scowled. He had indeed been scheming—his ambitions ever at the forefront—but being publicly outmaneuvered by Ōnoki and the others was a blow to his pride.
Still, he noted that Nagato—the true wielder of the Rinnegan in this world—was managing to suppress Kurama's chakra again. That worked in Danzo's favor. Let Nagato expend his strength on the beast. The Rinnegan was dangerous; better to let it wear itself out.
And since the crowd needed a scapegoat… perhaps it was best they eliminate Danzo first.
Among the shinobi present, silent agreements passed through shared glances. Danzo was a threat. And a common threat forged unity.
"You're interfering with the Ten-Tails' revival!" one shinobi shouted. "You're a spy planted by the Leaf!"
Before Danzo could react, several offensive jutsu surged toward him. His Root operatives instinctively stepped in front of him, blocking the initial strikes with their lives.
Danzo didn't flinch, didn't even acknowledge their sacrifice. Instead, he turned toward Obito, intending to issue a command.
But Obito was already phasing into his Kamui dimension, offering Danzo only a cold, pitying glance.
Obito had long known something was wrong with Danzo. Subtle inconsistencies in his actions and behavior suggested he'd been influenced—perhaps even manipulated—by another genjutsu or secret influence.
Obito suspected who it might be, but it didn't matter. Danzo had fulfilled his role, and there was no longer any use for him.
Obito vanished.
"Damn Uchiha… how dare you betray me!" Danzo roared. Though he knew his seals couldn't reach into another dimension, he activated them anyway in futile rage.
It was meaningless. His fury had no target.
Danzo's root operatives were nearly all gone. The circle around him closed tighter.
Still, Danzo remained arrogantly composed. "You fools don't understand. I've transcended the limitations of life and death. I have tasted death once… and emerged immortal.
I possess chakra without end. I can fight all of you forever."
As if to prove his point, Danzo wove hand seals.
"Wood Release: Tree Root Burial!"
Twisting branches erupted around him, aiming to crush and bind his attackers. Even Ōnoki looked briefly alarmed by the jutsu. But while impressive, this imitation of the First Hokage's power lacked the potency. It didn't even match Yamato's level of control.
The shinobi were not fooled. They pressed their assault.
In the end, even with his modified body, his Hashirama cells, and his experience, Danzo was overwhelmed.
He was reduced to ash under the combined might of the Allied Shinobi Forces.
He had once been a powerful figure in the shadows—a true Kage-level threat—but his downfall was swift and merciless.
Yet as Danzo himself had said, death wasn't the end.
In the distance, inside a hidden hideout, his corpse was already being reanimated through Impure World Reincarnation. His chakra was infinite. His body, immortal.
But what Danzo failed to understand, even in undeath, was that legacy is not built on manipulation and fear. It is built on trust—something he never cared to earn.
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