If Madara was merely surprised, then everyone else—aside from the members of Umbrella—was utterly shocked.
This power…
This overwhelming aura…
It was no weaker than Uchiha Madara's own world-shattering presence. The collision of the two titanic forces made every heart tremble.
"Is… is this the power of Umbrella?"
A shinobi murmured, voice shaking.
Even after several encounters with Umbrella, he still found himself unable to fathom the depths of their trump cards. Their strength always exceeded expectations—always pushing the limits of what shinobi believed possible.
"Can a human truly reach this level?"
Madara's terrifying strength was at least understandable—he was a legend. A demon in human form. A name known across history.
But this old man from Umbrella… unknown to most of the current era…
Why did he possess such might?
Only those from the oldest generation would recognize the name Takuma Genji.
"Uchiha Madara!"
Takuma Genji's voice boomed like thunder.
"Let me show you the power of the masses!"
"Blood-Qi Martial Dao — Nine Revolutions of the Dragon God!!!"
A divine dragon roared to life, spiraling upward and smashing toward the colossal meteor. The winds it generated were like hurricanes tearing across the battlefield.
"ROOOOAR!"
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—!!!
The sound shook the heavens.
The massive meteor shattered—split cleanly down the middle. Broken chunks rained from the sky, each fragment the size of a boulder. But the shinobi quickly reacted, intercepting the debris with coordinated ninjutsu.
A wave of relief—raw and overwhelming—surged through their chests.
"Did we… actually stop it?!"
Some embraced the person next to them; some cried; some collapsed in disbelief.
Even the Five Kage felt their hearts tremble.
The shinobi world was about to change.
No—it had already changed.
The rise of the Umbrella Organization seemed inevitable. The age of traditional hidden villages had already begun to crumble.
But regardless of the future, survival came first.
All eyes turned to Uchiha Madara.
His expression didn't change in the slightest.
"Your strength," he said calmly, "has earned my acknowledgment."
"State your name."
"Umbrella Organization, Martial Dao Legion—Takuma Genji!"
"Takuma Genji…" Madara's eyes narrowed.
"So it's you."
"I've taken note.
Die with honor."
Madara could see clearly—Takuma Genji had reached his limit. That last overwhelming attack had drained nearly all their combined strength, and channeling such power placed immense strain on his aging body.
He could no longer unleash a second strike.
And even if he could, the forces behind him had exhausted most of their chakra and vitality.
Madara, empowered by Senju Hashirama's cells, had surpassed even his peak. A fusion of Hashirama and Madara—a monster who stood above both.
"Tengai Shinsei — Heaven Concealed in Trembling Earth!!!"
Madara raised his hand.
"I never said I could only cast this once."
"Despair.
Wail."
"Hashirama—only I can bring salvation to this world. I will prove your ideals wrong!"
Another gigantic meteor materialized above the clouds…
And the battlefield drowned once more in mortal terror.
Hope turned instantly to despair.
Why give us light… if you intend to plunge us back into darkness?!
"Is that so, Madara!"
Two voices thundered across the sky—
"Wood Release: Wood Dragon Jutsu!"
"Wind Release: Rasenshuriken!"
Twin explosions erupted. The sky filled with debris and dust, blotting out the sun.
When the smoke cleared, two figures stepped forth:
Senju Hashirama (Edo Tensei)
and
Fourth Hokage—Minato Namikaze.
One of the attacks had been fired by Minato, who—after years of study—had completed his chakra nature transformations and developed an advanced Rasengan technique.
Hashirama blinked in surprise, then grinned.
"Fourth Hokage, didn't you say you weren't good at Sage Jutsu?"
He leaned in, baffled.
"How come you look almost as good as me now?"
Minato smiled politely, expression mild.
"You entering Sage Mode in one second isn't exactly a fair comparison, Hashirama-sama… It's basically like you just clap your hands and—bam—you're done."
Hashirama scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"Ah… that's true, isn't it?"
Senju Hashirama smiled awkwardly as he glanced at the Fourth Hokage.
Minato scratched his head in embarrassment.
He really hadn't been very good at Sage Arts before.
"Hashirama?"
Madara's eyes locked onto the suddenly appearing Senju Hashirama.
A faint, uncontrollable smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Grandpa!!"
Tsunade's voice broke through the tension.
Hashirama looked toward her, and his face lit up.
"Hahaha! My Tsunade has grown so big!"
"Hashirama!!!"
Madara's voice rang out, filled with excitement that clashed with the battlefield's despair.
Hashirama met his gaze with a simple, honest smile.
"Madara… stop this. Your plan won't succeed."
To the shinobi around them, the sight was surreal.
The man before them looked innocent—almost goofy—with none of the overwhelming pressure they imagined from the legendary God of Shinobi.
This… is Lord Hashirama? Really?
None of them knew the truth: Hashirama's heroic image from history was being crushed on the spot.
Madara snorted.
"Hashirama, you're still as naive as ever. After your death, the peace you dreamed of shattered. The wars that followed were even more cruel than before."
He crossed his arms, voice deep, unwavering.
"Human desire knows no limit. Only I can bring true salvation to this world.
Your fantasy—that mutual understanding alone can bring peace—is laughable."
Hashirama's expression hardened.
"Madara… I know my old ideals were immature. But your path isn't right either."
He stepped forward, voice steady and resolute.
"Ideas that are forced on people will never take root.
Only when the will of the people aligns can true peace exist!"
These were truths Hashirama had only begun to understand after encountering the ideology behind Umbrella.
True peace required more than strength.
It required meeting the basic needs of the people—and uniting their will.
That was why Umbrella developed productivity, infrastructure, education, and public welfare.
Without stability and shared purpose, peace was always temporary.
Hashirama continued, voice solemn as he reflected on his own past decisions.
"I knew power was necessary… so I gathered the clans and created a structure—one country, one village. With shinobi as guardians and nobles as administrators."
Shinobi did not produce food or goods.
They relied on missions for livelihood.
They depended on the Daimyō's resources.
In return, shinobi were the nation's military deterrent.
To stabilize the world, Hashirama distributed the Tailed Beasts across different villages—
a balance of terror to prevent full-scale war.
But—
"I underestimated human nature," Hashirama murmured.
"And the greed that festers in people's hearts."
The Land of Fire was rich.
Other nations… were not.
He had overlooked that.
The Land of Wind had barely any natural resources; even drinking water was precious.
Sandstorms ravaged them year-round.
How could they not look toward the Land of Fire with desire?
The same was true for many other countries.
The conflict was inevitable—not because people wanted war, but because resources were unequal.