Shinju's palm pressed against Nagato's back.
A force poured out from his hand, instantly flooding into Nagato's withered body.
This power wasn't just chakra.
It was older and purer—carrying an archaic aura, like the primal breath of all things at the moment of creation.
Nagato's body began to tremble uncontrollably.
First, he felt warmth rise from the depths of his soul, driving away the cold, deathlike gloom that had coiled inside him for more than ten years.
That warm current washed through every meridian in his body.
Cells that had been eroded for years by the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path's chakra regained their proper vitality.
The black rods reacted as if they had met their natural enemy.
They were the product of Yin Release, an extension of death and control.
And Shinju's power was the pinnacle of Yang Release—life and creation at their origin.
The black rods started to vibrate violently.
Nagato could clearly feel an internal force repelling those foreign objects from within his body.
One.
The rod closest to his heart was forced out first.
It shot from Nagato's back with black smoke trailing behind it, then clattered onto the cold metal floor.
With that first rod gone, the tight pressure in Nagato's chest eased instantly, and even his breathing became smoother.
Then the second. The third…
Metallic impacts rang out one after another inside the sealed chamber.
The rods that had once brought him unbearable agony—and had also served as the extension of his control over the Six Paths of Pain—were expelled from his body one by one.
Even his legs, which had long since lost all sensation, began to change.
First came an itching numbness, then needle-like agony.
For someone who hadn't felt his legs exist in more than a decade, that agony was nothing less than a supreme blessing.
He could feel the muscles and nerves in his legs regenerating at an absurd speed, and blood vessels once again began pumping blood through them.
An even more shocking change happened to his hair.
Hair that had turned gray-white and brittle from being overdrained of life force began changing from the roots—rapidly becoming a vivid crimson red.
The mark of the purest Uzumaki bloodline.
Yahiko and Konan watched the entire process from the side.
They watched the black rods fall away from Nagato one after another.
They watched his gaunt body fill out at a visible pace.
They watched color return to his pale skin.
They watched his ash-gray hair get swallowed by flame-like red.
It was a sight so far beyond what they could comprehend that they couldn't even speak—able only to label it as an incomprehensible "miracle."
"Nagato, you are not only the chosen one of the Rinnegan—you are also a descendant of the Uzumaki Clan," Shinju's voice sounded beside Nagato's ear.
"Don't forget. In your blood flows the same inexhaustible life force as my mother's. Stand up. Use your own legs to welcome your rebirth."
As the last word fell, Shinju withdrew his hand.
All the black rods had already dropped to the floor, scattered around the mechanical chair.
The treatment was complete.
Nagato's trembling stopped.
He lowered his head, then slowly raised his hands.
His skin had regained elasticity, filled with healthy color, and power surged through his fingers.
He felt the chakra inside him roaring like a tsunami—more immense than at any other time in his life.
More importantly, his connection to the Rinnegan had become smoother than ever, as if those eyes had always been a natural part of his body—driving them no longer demanded a heavy toll of life force.
He took a deep breath, and his chest filled with fresh air.
Bracing both hands on the chair's armrests, he tightened his core and pushed himself up from the mechanical seat that had bound him for more than ten years.
The sensation of his feet touching solid ground was unfamiliar—and yet overwhelmingly real.
He wobbled at first, his body still unaccustomed to balance.
But he steadied himself quickly, slowly straightening his back.
Standing tall—feeling his own legs supporting his entire body weight.
Not being moved was impossible. In fact, he almost liked the feeling, lingering a little longer just to get used to it.
He turned around to face Shinju.
He looked at the young man, his eyes filled with complicated emotions.
Awe. Gratitude. And the intent to submit completely.
Without hesitation, he bent both knees and performed the most formal, most exalted prostration.
His forehead struck the cold metal floor with a dull thud.
This bow wasn't only for saving his life.
It was for remaking him.
Shinju hadn't merely healed his shattered body—he had awakened the bloodline sleeping within him and given him a new future that Nagato had never dared to hope for.
"Thank you, Shinju-sama, for the grace of remaking me. From this moment on, I will swear loyalty to you and join under your banner. I ask for permission."
Nagato's voice came from the floor, filled with a firmness he had never possessed before.
Shinju smiled, calmly accepting that bow—accepting him.
From that moment on, another "god-tier" combatant joined his side.
A peak Nagato—fully restored, and absolutely loyal.
Shinju wasn't afraid of betrayal anyway. He had countless ways to restrain people like this.
The Akatsuki problem was resolved completely—in the most perfect possible way.
Shinju's gaze pierced through the darkness of the chamber, aiming at somewhere far beyond.
But things still weren't over. There was more to do.
The only two who had slipped the net—Uchiha Obito and Zetsu.
Now was the time to settle the final karma.
He looked at Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato—now standing tall—and spoke slowly.
"Next, I need you to do something. This is the highest priority, and it'll be your first mission after joining."
"You might not be able to bring yourselves to do it… but you still must."
All three immediately focused their attention on him, waiting for the order.
"Find Uchiha Obito—your former companion, 'A Fei.' This man has done plenty of 'good deeds.' He caused Nagato tremendous suffering, and he manipulated your fates."
"I want him to pay the price for everything he's done. Don't think that being a victim gives you the right to harm others."
Those last words felt like Shinju saying them straight to Obito's face.
Nagato, Yahiko, and Konan didn't hesitate.
Any lingering sympathy they might've had vanished the moment they realized he had been steering their lives from the shadows.
The more they thought about it, the more furious they became—they wanted to personally end this lurking parasite.
The three answered in unison, "Yes, Shinju-sama! We will not fail you. We will complete the mission."
As for Shinju, he was preparing to return to Konoha.
He needed to make thorough preparations for the war to come.
He had driven Obito off once before, but there was no guarantee Obito couldn't still pull something dangerous.
Even worse, behind Obito lurked a far older—and far stronger—existence.
A legend that should have died long ago.
Uchiha Madara.
And the Otsutsuki Clan hidden on the moon.
(End of Chapter)
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