"The Nine-Tails has been suppressed…"
"And there's another mysterious man—wearing a mask with a white beard?"
The moment they arrived, both the spiral-masked man (Obito) and the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, narrowed their eyes. For an instant, their thoughts went blank.
Because neither of them expected this—
The Nine-Tails, freshly released, had been suppressed so easily.
And with the Nine-Tails looking downright pitiful, both of their gazes snapped—almost in sync—toward the man standing atop the beast's head: Ren, wearing the Whitebeard mask, holding Murakumogiri.
"Minato… you're finally here."
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, let out a tight breath, the tension in his chest easing slightly. He flashed to Minato's side, face grave.
"That masked man with the white beard helped us suppress the Nine-Tails."
Minato's expression stayed hard—anger barely contained.
"And that spiral-masked bastard attacked me during Kushina's delivery… and he's the one who released the Nine-Tails."
Hiruzen's brow furrowed. His eyes flicked between the two masked figures.
One released the Nine-Tails. One suppressed it.
Both wore masks.
If their outfits and masks weren't different, Hiruzen might've assumed they came from the same organization.
Minato's eyes sharpened as he recalled something crucial.
"And he has a Mangekyō Sharingan."
He pointed straight at the spiral-masked man.
"The Nine-Tails is being controlled by his Mangekyō Sharingan."
"Mangekyō Sharingan… You mean the Uchiha clan—?" Hiruzen blurted reflexively.
"No. Not Konoha's Uchiha." Minato exhaled, voice firm. "Konoha doesn't have anyone like him."
"…That's true." Hiruzen's jaw tightened, irritation creeping in. "Then what do we do now?"
"Wait," Minato said, forcing himself to stay still. "We hold position and react when he moves."
Across the battlefield, Obito was in a daze.
He'd released the Nine-Tails and spent everything he had stalling Minato—counting on the beast to ravage Konoha unchecked.
And then this happened.
A third piece—another masked monster—had stepped onto the board.
It felt like—
a mantis stalking a cicada… unaware of the oriole behind it.
Even Black Zetsu, hidden in the shadows, felt a rare flicker of disbelief.
This white-bearded masked man wasn't part of their plan.
Worse—
he'd suppressed the Nine-Tails like it was nothing.
"…Wait."
Black Zetsu's gaze darkened.
Could this be…?
He remembered Kaguya's old words—how the Ōtsutsuki were "monsters."
If so, then this man's goal was obvious:
to reclaim tailed-beast chakra… and plant the God Tree again.
Obito finally spoke, voice flat and cold.
"Who are you?"
From atop the Nine-Tails' head, Ren answered casually, like he was commenting on the weather.
"You can call me Uchiha Madara."
"…You're Uchiha Madara?"
Obito's mouth twitched under the mask.
Somewhere in the dark, Black Zetsu's expression stiffened.
Are you kidding me?
If you're Madara—then what am I?
And what about the real Madara's corpse?
Obito's voice dropped, dangerous.
"I am Uchiha Madara."
Then, like a warning wrapped in steel:
"I don't care who you are. Leave. Now. Or face the consequences."
Ren didn't bother arguing.
"Oh." He shrugged. "If you don't believe it, that's fine."
Then his gaze slid past Obito—toward Hiruzen, Minato, and the distant Konoha shinobi watching in stunned silence.
"And you?" Ren asked lightly. "Do you believe I'm Uchiha Madara?"
His tone sharpened a fraction.
"If you don't…"
"…then Konoha can start dancing to my tune."
For a heartbeat—
everyone froze.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, Namikaze Minato, and the gathered shinobi all wore the same confused, unsettled look.
Two masked men.
Both claiming to be Uchiha Madara.
What kind of sick joke was this?
Then Hiruzen inhaled slowly… and made his choice.
"I believe you're Uchiha Madara."
Even knowing it made no sense, he spoke with steady weight.
"I've witnessed Madara's power before. If you can toy with the Nine-Tails like this…"
"…then you are Madara."
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