Kagashi and Hoshiko exchanged uneasy glances before retreating, their eyes lingering on the closed wooden doorframe. They left quietly, leaving Madara alone.
He flexed his fingers, embers dancing around them like living flames — ancient, controlled, mastered. Magic, perhaps. Power, certainly.
"But indeed, I did," he mused lightly.
Uchiha Madara's abilities were now his.
He walked to the center of the room, sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, and closed his eyes. His hand clenched as he reached inward, sensing the chakra coiled around and within him — vast, deep, patient.
The fusion of his modern knowledge and Madara's memory made understanding effortless.
Fire Release. Lightning Release. Even the Rinnegan. All dormant within.
"But first... let's take a deserved sleep, shall we?" he thought to himself.
He awoke to the chirping of birds and morning sunlight filtering through the cracks in the old wooden structure. His black, ink-dark eyes opened slowly. He stood, fluid and free — no stiffness, no fatigue.
Surveying his surroundings, he noticed everything remained unchanged.
He felt thirst and hunger, but ignored them.
Then came the knock. Or rather, the sensation — footsteps and vibrations in the earth before they even reached the door.
He opened it before they could.
He looked down at them with his usual neutral, cold expression. An older man, clearly an elder, stood beside the werewolf from yesterday — Kagashi.
The elder rasped calmly, "Madara Uchiha… or whatever you claim to be. You are not welcome. You are not of this land."
Madara responded coolly, "And yet... I am here."
The elder sighed. "The spirits whisper of you. A monster wrapped in human flesh. And you bring change."
Madara's lips curled slightly, but his gaze remained cold. "Change is inevitable. Whether it benefits you depends on your position."
Hoshiko, who had arrived silently, fists clenched — her werewolf hearing had caught every word. "What do you want?"
Madara stood calmly in the doorway, red armor clinking softly. "Information. About the 'Cold Ones' you mentioned. Describe them."
While I know how they look, it's better to be sure. If it's all canon… even I don't know everything about the Twilight verse, he thought.
Kagashi stepped forward. "Pale. Beautiful. Drink blood. Fast — faster than horses. They've been encroaching on our lands."
Madara's expression didn't change, but he processed the information quickly.
The Volturi? Or another coven?
"Who leads them?" he asked bluntly.
The elder shook his head. "No single leader. Too many covens. Scattered. But the strongest call themselves the Immortal Children."
Madara smirked faintly.
Ah. The Ancients, then.
"Good," he said. "Then I'll start with them."
"You… you can't just hunt them!" Hoshiko snapped. "They're stronger. Faster! If we could get rid of them, we would have already!"
"Maybe. But I'm not you. Nor a werewolf. And yet… you fear me more."
Silence.
The elder bowed slightly. "If you rid us of their threat… the Quileutes will owe you a great debt."
Madara chuckled coldly, arrogantly. "I don't need debts. I do as I please."
And with that, he stepped past them, heading toward the forest.
"Where are you going?" Kagashi called.
Madara didn't turn. "I wasn't invited. So I'm coming personally."
A few hours later — night had fallen.
He stood in the area where the last vampire was seen by the werewolf clan.
The forest was silent — not peaceful, but tense. Predators holding their breath.
Madara stood atop a towering cedar. His Sharingan glowed in the darkness like demonic fire, scanning the forest like a living satellite.
Then — a scent. Cold. Unnatural. Metallic, like rusted iron.
Fresh.
Close.
He dropped soundlessly to the damp earth, enhancing his senses. The vampire was moving. Northeast. Toward the mountain.
A den, perhaps.
He moved. Effortless. A blur through the trees. Branches parted. Roots flattened beneath him. He didn't run — he flowed, water slicing through stone.
Then—
A flicker of movement.
He saw it clearly.
A figure darting between pines.
He didn't slow.
His hand snapped forward — closing around the vampire's throat like it was a toy. One blink, and he was already there. Like teleportation.
The vampire's crimson eyes widened in shock.
"You!"
It reacted fast — but not fast enough. Madara casually slammed it into a tree. Then another. Then another. Until the vampire crashed, stood shakily — and began to regenerate.
Madara raised a brow. "Regeneration? Enviable."
The vampire lunged, claws slashing — but Madara caught its wrist mid-swing. Twisted.
Crack. Bone shattered.
The vampire screamed — high-pitched, too human.
Madara leaned in, Sharingan spinning lazily. "You will answer."
The vampire thrashed in pain and panic. "What are you?! You're not one of us!"
"Where is your coven?" Madara asked simply.
The vampire hissed. "You think I'll tell you anything?"
"So be it."
Genjutsu.
The vampire froze, eyes dulling.
"Where is your coven?"
Emotionless: "The mountains. North. Cave system."
"How many?"
"Fifteen. Possibly more."
"Leader?"
"Vasili. He is ancient. Older than the rest."
Madara hummed.
Then — crack. One swift motion. The vampire crumpled, dead.
The cave was easy to find. Hidden behind a waterfall. Cold air and the scent of old blood wafted from within.
No guards. No traps. Just arrogance.
He stepped inside.
Whispers echoed.
"Human…?"
"No. Something else…"
"He smells… tasty…"
Madara ignored them. The tunnel widened into a cavern. Stalactites above. Shadows danced across bone thrones.
And there, seated proudly — Vasili.
Tall. Pale. Eyes black as tar.
"You," Vasili purred, voice like oil over water. "The one who killed my scout."
Madara said nothing.
Vasili grinned, fangs like needles. "Are you brave… or foolish? Do you know what we are?"
Madara finally spoke. "Prey."
The vampires lunged.
And the world exploded in fire.
Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu.
Dozens of fireballs erupted, striking true. Screams echoed as chakra-fed flames devoured their flesh. Regeneration useless.
Vasili's eyes widened. "What?!"
Madara was already in front of him. A fist to the gut. Vasili flew through his throne, skidding across stone.
Madara advanced, fingertips still aflame.
"You!" Vasili snarled, scrambling up. "You're not human! What are you?!"
"You think fire can kill me?" Vasili hissed.
Madara's eyes narrowed. "It could. But that would be boring."
Vasili lunged. Madara didn't dodge. He countered.
Fist snapped up — caught Vasili's wrist. Bones cracked.
The vampire slashed with his other hand — but Madara twisted, letting the claws graze his armor. Then — a knee to the ribs.
Vasili folded, skidding back.
He spat blood, grinning. "Fast, little bastard."
"I could say the same… but you're slow," Madara said, unimpressed. His three-tomoe Sharingan didn't even activate further.
Vasili attacked again, spinning into a kick.
Madara blocked with ease. Then caught the leg — and slammed him into the stone floor.
Boom. Dust and fragments fell from the ceiling.
Vasili's body healed — but Madara didn't let up. He hurled him across the cavern.
Vasili crashed into a stalagmite. Shattered it.
"Disappointing," Madara said, cracking his neck.
Vasili snarled, shifting into his monstrous form — limbs elongating, fangs growing.
"Let's see how you handle this!"
He lunged.
Madara met him head-on.
Their fists collided — a shockwave burst through the cave. Vasili's claws raked across Madara's chest, shredding his red armor. Madara didn't flinch.
He smirked.
"You talk too much, vampire."
With a brutal jerk, he slammed Vasili face-first into the stone — once, twice, three times — then flipped him and drove his knee into his spine.
Crack. A sickening sound.
Vasili screamed.
Madara leaned in, Sharingan spinning.
Genjutsu: Hell Viewing Technique.
Vasili's pupils dilated.
He was no longer in the cave.
He was burning.
His flesh peeled away. Screams echoed in the void of endless fire.
When the illusion broke, Vasili twitched on the ground, mind shattered.
Madara stood, brushing dust from his armor.
"Pathetic."
He raised his foot — and stomped.
Vasili's skull shattered.
Silence.
Too easy.
The hunt was over.
And Madara Uchiha had only just begun.