The Iwagakure shinobi closing in on Ishiki Kujo's location suddenly noticed strange bands of rainbows arcing through the air.
As they continued forward, the ground began to swarm with snails.
At first, the shinobi paid the phenomenon no mind—odd, perhaps, but not alarming.
That changed the moment one of them touched a rainbow.
Within seconds, the man let out no scream, no cry—only silence—as snails began to crawl from every orifice of his body. A massive snail shell erupted from his back. His once-strong legs melted into soft, slick flesh, and the elite speed of a shinobi collapsed into the slow, helpless wriggle of a gastropod.
His eyes dulled. His body slumped. There was no resistance.
He had become a snail, in mind and flesh.
In the blink of an eye, the terrain was overrun—dozens more transformed, the earth now crawling with grotesque mollusks in all sizes.
The remaining Iwa-nin froze in panic, but that only bought them a few seconds.
The snails began crawling toward them—intent on spreading the transformation.
Fear turned to desperation. Desperation dissolved into hopelessness.
And hopelessness gave way to numb acceptance.
No longer soldiers, no longer men—just a mass of crawling slime, writhing near the border.
—
Obito Uchiha, still mid-transformation, knew he had no other option.
With zero hesitation, he activated the Uchiha clan's most forbidden ocular jutsu—Izanagi.
The ultimate rewrite of fate itself.
For the briefest moment, his death—his irreversible mutation—was nothing more than a "bad dream." Unwritten. Deleted.
He reappeared in midair, right at the spot where he'd earlier lunged for Ishiki.
And immediately, fire and lightning rained down on him.
To Ishiki's surprise, Obito did not phase.
Instead, he braced for the attack.
His Mangekyō Sharingan spun violently—and his entire body began twisting, vortex-like, toward Kamui's other dimension.
Less than a second later—he vanished.
Obito had escaped.
—
Ishiki hadn't expected that.
Given the scale of the assault, even Obito would've been heavily injured if he hadn't phased. Choosing to tank the damage and warp out mid-burn... it meant Obito had done the math. And realized something terrifying:
If he stayed, he'd be snailified again.
And he had no way to stop it.
Not even the Sharingan could explain what had happened. Not even his perception could dissect the jutsu's mechanics.
His only path was retreat.
Even then, Obito was already running out of eyes.
He had sacrificed the Sharingan beneath his mask to use Izanagi—and now, if he lost his Mangekyō, he would have no counter for a second transformation.
He couldn't afford another mistake.
Obito knew it:
He had lost.
Ishiki Kujo was stronger, more unpredictable, more dangerous than anything he had prepared for.
Even if the Two-Tails really was in Ishiki's possession, Obito had no way of proving it.
Not unless he first found a way to counter that accursed snail curse technique.
—
Far from the border, space twisted open.
Obito emerged from Kamui in a burned, battered, partially transformed state. His clothes were torn and scorched, his body still slick with patches of snail mucus.
From the trunk of a nearby tree, Zetsu emerged, holding a jar containing a replacement Sharingan.
Obito tore off his shattered mask, reached up with chakra-coated fingers, and ripped out his left eye.
Without hesitation, he slammed the new one in and immediately wove the Izanagi hand seals once more.
But the snailification was spreading again—arms, chest, even his mind—
"This jutsu... it's monstrous. The Iwa-nin near the border were all affected. Everyone thinks they're a snail!"
Zetsu's voice echoed in his ears, but to Obito, it was a slap across the face.
"They think they're snails… and then they become snails…"
A realization struck like lightning.
It's a Genjutsu that overrides reality itself.
It had nothing to do with chakra control or physical transformation. It was subconscious imprinting—a suggestion so strong, it rewrote flesh and bone.
To undo it... he needed to strike at the very concept of identity.
Obito, Uchiha of the Mangekyō, student of Madara, master of illusions—
He took a deep breath. His hands moved again—not to attack someone else, but to cast a Genjutsu on himself.
He didn't need to trap another mind. He needed to remind his own soul:
You are not a snail. You are Obito Uchiha.
And as the new Sharingan activated, his inner monologue slammed against the curse.
His eyes opened wide—and the transformation halted.
He wasn't sure if it was the second use of Izanagi, or the self-imposed illusion, but the result was the same: he was back.
Whole. For now.
Until—
He spotted something shimmering in the distance.
A rainbow.
Faint, far off, but undeniable.
His heart sank.
He was seven or eight kilometers away from Ishiki—and he was still within the jutsu's range?
And worse… it was still spreading.
Limitlessly. Unstoppably.
"...He wants to turn the whole world into snails," Obito whispered.
It sounded insane.
It was insane.
But wasn't that exactly what it looked like?
"Uh, hey," came Zetsu's voice, cutting through the dread. "Would you mind using that Genjutsu on me too?"
Obito turned.
Zetsu's arm was already transforming. The snail curse had claimed him too.