Uchiha Madara discovered that he had awakened a new talent.
Fire Style!
In addition to the Uchiha clan's signature Sharingan, Fire Style was the second innate ability to reawaken after his rebirth in Hueco Mundo.
Back in the ninja world, Madara had been renowned as a master of Katon—his command of fire-based ninjutsu was second to none, and his destructive power had left entire battlefields scorched.
Great Fire Annihilation. Flame Bullet Barrage. Dragon Flame Song Technique.
These devastating techniques, once capable of turning armies to ash, still burned vividly in his memory. But as Madara attempted to reach for that familiar power, he was struck by a fundamental problem:
His body no longer contained chakra. It pulsed instead with something foreign—Reiatsu, the spiritual energy of Hollows.
In the shinobi world, chakra was the foundation of all ninjutsu. Without it, even the most basic jutsu would be impossible to execute. Now, standing in this new realm as a Hollow, Madara faced a frustrating reality:
Even though his memory retained every detail of Fire Style techniques, he couldn't cast them.
"Chakra is the life energy of shinobi," he mused, narrowing his single Sharingan. "So… does Reiatsu play the same role in the bodies of Hollows?"
A brilliant gleam lit up in his eye. If chakra was a conduit for molding and releasing techniques, perhaps Reiatsu, though different in nature, could serve a similar purpose.
Driven by curiosity and the urge to transcend his limits, Madara began to experiment.
He raised his skeletal hands and formed the seals for the Great Fireball Technique, the Uchiha clan's foundational ninjutsu—one that every member was expected to master.
"Si - Wei - Shen - Hai - Wu - Yin!"
The sequence flowed effortlessly, muscle memory guiding his movements.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
But nothing happened.
No flame. No heat. No eruption of destructive power.
Still, Madara didn't frown. In fact, he smiled faintly. Because in that moment, something within him stirred—a faint ripple of Reiatsu began to circulate the moment the final seal was completed.
It wasn't much, but it was the beginning.
"Reiatsu and chakra… Different in essence, but both are energy mediums. If chakra can be molded into ninjutsu, then so can this."
He repeated the technique.
Hands flashing through seals, Madara once again called out the jutsu name. This time, the Reiatsu within him responded more actively—it began to gather at his chest, flowing upward toward his mouth.
He wasn't there yet—but it was working. He could feel it.
"Unfortunately, I only have the One Tomoe Sharingan…"
Madara clicked his tongue in mild frustration. One Tomoe only allowed him to read motion and spiritual pressure in combat, but lacked the insight of the Three Tomoe Sharingan, which could allow him to track and understand the subtle flow of energy—perfect for analyzing Reiatsu patterns during casting.
Still, he wasn't discouraged.
After all, he was Madara Uchiha—the man who challenged the Five Great Nations, battled the First Hokage to a standstill, and awakened the Rinnegan. This would not stop him.
Clenching his fists, he tried again—a third time.
His fingers formed the familiar mudra. This time, he focused not on the flames, but on the movement of spiritual energy inside him.
He could feel it clearly now.
The Reiatsu surged through his chest, guided by instinct and precision, gathering in his throat like magma ready to erupt.
Madara brought his hands together with finality.
Boom!
A massive fireball exploded from his mouth, searing the air in a wide arc. It soared over the dunes, and as it collided with the sand, it carved a molten trench into the ground. The heat was so intense that it turned sand into glass, leaving behind warped, sticky streaks of black and red.
Madara stood unmoved, watching the aftermath.
Success.
After just three attempts, Madara had adapted to a completely foreign power system. He had restructured a chakra-based ninjutsu using pure Reiatsu, fusing shinobi arts with Hollow instincts.
"If I can do it with Fire Style… then Water Style, Lightning Style, even Wood Style should be possible."
Madara's gaze sharpened. That old spark—the thrill of discovering new heights—burned again in his chest.
Hueco Mundo was a world where most Hollows were driven only by instinct, mindless and violent, incapable of rational thought. But Madara was different. He had retained his intellect, his combat experience, and—most importantly—his vast library of techniques.
With the Sharingan, he could read and react to any enemy. With Reiatsu, he could mold raw spiritual energy into new forms. Now, the only thing he needed was more fuel.
More prey. More devouring. More evolution.
As he stared at the scorched remnants of his Fireball's path, the corners of his lips curled into a wicked grin. He knew that Hueco Mundo was layered—its outskirts were littered with weak Hollows, but as one traveled deeper, the power of the denizens increased exponentially.
And at the heart of Hueco Mundo—the Forest of Menos, Las Noches, and the domain of Adjuchas and Vasto Lordes—awaited enemies that might push him to his limits.
What kind of strength would the most evolved Hollows possess? Could they challenge even the Sage of Six Paths?
That was the mystery that compelled him forward.
"For those born to rule," Madara whispered, "the sky is never the limit. It is only the beginning."
Turning his back on the battlefield, Madara strode toward the depths of Hueco Mundo, each step infused with power and purpose. He would face the strongest this world had to offer—and devour them.
Only then could he reclaim the power that once made him a god.