"Want to know why I use a knife? Guns are too quick. You don't get to savor it, to truly enjoy it. But when I use a knife, in that final moment, the very essence of a person is revealed. And in a way, I know your friends better than you do. And... want to know which one of them was a coward?"
***
Madara was mopping the floors in one of the Academy's classrooms, his movements precise, almost mechanical. Every day, he performed this humiliating task, but his thoughts were far from dirty rags and wet floors. He despised weakness, despised those who thought themselves above him, and despised this world, which had long since become a rotting carcass, full of despair and filth. But he endured. For now. His mind, cold and calculating, was occupied with gathering information about Sunny. However, if this continued, he would no longer hold back. He would tear everything he needed from Sunny and then destroy everything around him, including Morgan, along with his pitiful ideals.
Yes, he had already drawn up a working nuclear warhead with a yield of 200 kilotons. He had created it not to demonstrate power, but to wipe off the face of the earth those who dared to stand in his way. Or, if necessary, to take them with him into oblivion. Madara was not afraid of death. He despised it, just like everything else he considered weak.
A few hours later, his workday ended. He tossed the rag into the bucket and headed to his janitor's closet. The room was tiny, dark, and stuffy, but Madara paid no attention to it. He was used to dirt, to poverty, to the fact that the world around him was hopeless and grim. But he was not a victim. He was a predator, merely pretending to be weak.
Entering the room, he immediately noticed a strange movement in the darkness. But he gave no sign. His face remained impassive, like a mask. He approached the closet to put away the mop, and at that moment, he was attacked. A long dagger pierced his heart straight through. But Madara's body did not fall. It simply evaporated, like smoke. It had been a clone.
The assassin didn't have time to react before the real Madara appeared behind him. With one precise motion, he severed the man's head. Blood splattered against the walls, the head flew into the corner, and the body collapsed to the floor. Madara wiped the dagger on the corpse's clothing, his face remaining calm, almost indifferent. He walked over to the head, kicked it to turn it over, and began removing the mask. But at that moment, an explosion rang out. The head disappeared, leaving only smoke and ash behind. It had been another clone.
Madara smirked. His enemies were cautious, but not enough to deceive him. He emerged from the shadows, separating from the wall, and instead of leaving through the door, he pressed a drawing of a door against the wall. His aspect brought the image to life, and he stepped through the wall, finding himself in one of the Academy's classrooms.
Screams and explosions were already echoing throughout the building. Madara didn't hesitate. He sent his two-tailed fox to summon the Anbu, while he himself moved through the hallways, his eyes coldly scanning the corpses and debris. He felt no pity, no fear. Only contempt for those who couldn't defend themselves.
Soon, he found himself in a destroyed section of the building, where several teachers, including Sunny, were fighting dozens of masked assassins. Madara didn't wait. He transformed, becoming his past self, and donned a mask. His entrance was slow, almost theatrical. Every step, every sound of his heels clicking against the floor, made everyone turn.
Several ninja rushed at him, but Madara didn't stop. In his hand appeared a canvas of raging flames. He turned it toward the attackers, and the fire came to life, roaring as it surged toward the enemies. The screams were brief. The flames consumed them, leaving only ash behind.
The hall fell silent, but not for long. New assassins appeared from all sides, but Madara only smirked. Dozens of explosive tags materialized in his hands, which he hurled in all directions. Explosions tore through the air, but this time the enemies were cautious. Madara didn't wait. He leaped back, and from beneath his mask, a thick fog spread, filling the area. Visibility dropped to zero.
From the fog emerged one of the Anbu, and together they attacked the enemies. But there were too many of them. Madara and his allies retreated, not out of fear, but because they were waiting for the right moment.
When the fog cleared, everyone saw Madara fighting an Ascendant. The enemy used an ice aspect, creating frozen swords and hurling them at Madara. But Madara's fire was stronger. They clashed in close combat, and at that moment, Sunny attacked the Ascendant from behind, using shadows as weapons.
Madara realized the enemy was too powerful. In his hand appeared a drawing of a sword, which instantly became real. It was a replica of Nubari. Now, the two of them pressed the Ascendant, wearing him down. Sunny targeted weak points, while Madara burned through the icy blades and struck with a needle-thin sword.
When the Ascendant tried to flee, Madara didn't give him the chance. He activated a drawing of a tree, which came to life and impaled the enemy, pinning him to the wall. The sound of tearing flesh was the last thing the Ascendant heard.
The remaining assassins realized their mission had failed and tried to run. But Madara didn't allow it. He created dozens of clones and unleashed a massacre. Soon, it was over. The floor was littered with corpses, and in the center of the ruined Academy stood two groups: Madara's Anbu and the teachers.
Madara gave the order to retreat. His team vanished, and he was left alone facing the teachers. They looked at him with apprehension, understanding that before them stood not just a man, but a force they could not control.
"So, Sunny," Madara said in a muffled voice, his mask hiding his face but not the cold hatred in his words. "I didn't expect you to be this strong. Fighting an Ascendant while still Awakened... That's impressive. Don't disappoint me."
The teachers stared at Sunny in shock, while Madara, with a wave of his hand, slowly dissolved into the wall. He left behind only destruction, corpses, and fear. This day would be remembered for a long time. The day the Anbu showed their true power. And the day the world realized that Madara was not just a name. It was a threat.
***
Honestly, I have no idea what you guys want. There's plenty of action, but you still need something more.
I never thought my book would get over ten thousand views. I'm surprised.
And here's the problem. I didn't prepare for writing it at all. Like, not at all. I just read Naruto and Shadow Slave, and then I thought, "Huh, why not?"
And I started writing. Then someone liked it, then another person, and eventually, it clicked with everyone.
But I don't have a plot. And I have no idea what to write next. So, I'll have to cut down the updates to one chapter every other day. Or maybe two.