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C701 Spider-Man
🕑 Added 2024-08-09 13:57:46 +0000 UTCAfter listening intently to Madara’s detailed explanation of the Eye of the Moon Plan, Peter leaned back in his chair, a look of mild amusement on his face.
“Wow,” Peter says, his tone carrying a hint of sarcasm. “What a wonderfully idiotic and convoluted plan.”
Madara's eyes narrow dangerously. "Excuse me?"
Peter continues, unperturbed by the edge in Madara’s voice. “I mean, just think about it. You’re basing the entire future of the world on a plan filled with holes and reliant on sheer dumb luck. Let’s go over this, shall we?”
Madara, feeling a rare sting of offense, listens as Peter recounts his plan, listing the glaring flaws with each step.
“First off,” Peter begins, ticking off his fingers, “you fake your death and somehow manage to get your hands on a piece of Hashirama’s flesh, which—by some miracle—you integrate into your body. Then you wait, what, decades? All while banking on the hope that you might awaken the Rinnegan just before you croak. And, surprise, surprise, it works. But barely.”
Madara's expression darkens, but Peter presses on.
“Then you implant your Rinnegan into some kid, Nagato, because… what? You thought it was a good idea to entrust your world-changing plan to a child? A kid who, by the way, you’ve never even met before.”
Peter shakes his head, disbelief clear in his voice. “You did this because you needed Nagato to eventually revive you, but why not give the Rinnegan to Obito? He’s an Uchiha, isn’t he? Wouldn’t that mean he’d have an easier time using your eyes?” He paused, an incredulous expression on his face. “You had him in the palm of your hand, completely broken and obedient, and yet you chose some random orphan instead? Makes no sense.”
Madara’s jaw tightens, but Peter doesn’t give him a chance to respond.
“And let’s talk about Obito. You’re banking on him staying on course, following your every word, once you’re dead. Do you really think a kid who watched his childhood love die in front of him is the most stable person to trust with your grand plan? And what if he decided to do something else? Or what if he, like most traumatized kids, just shut down completely?”
Peter’s voice grows more incredulous as he continues. “And then there’s this whole Infinite Tsukuyomi thing. Trapping the entire world in a dream? Really? You think that’s peace? That’s not peace, Madara. That’s a delusion. You’re essentially forcing everyone into a coma, robbing them of their free will until the day they die of old age, and calling it salvation. How does that fix anything?”
Madara’s eyes flicker with frustration, but Peter keeps going, not giving him an inch.
“And what’s your end goal here? To sit around as some sort of god while everyone else is trapped in their dream worlds? And then what? You eventually die, and the world falls apart again, maybe even worse than before. Congratulations, you’ve successfully delayed the inevitable for what, a few decades?”
Peter finally pauses, leaning forward, his eyes locked onto Madara’s. “And let’s not forget the biggest problem with your plan: the stone tablet. How do you know that thing wasn’t feeding you lies? You’ve built your entire strategy on something you found carved into a rock. Did it ever occur to you that the information might be false? Or that someone, somewhere, manipulated that tablet for their own gain?”
Madara, who had been silent up until now, grits his teeth, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Mocking a plan that you barely understand.”
Peter shrugs, unimpressed by Madara’s indignation. “Oh, I understand it just fine. It’s you who didn’t see the flaws because you were so blinded by your own pride and desperation. You were so consumed with the idea of being the world’s savior that you didn’t stop to think if any of it made sense.”
Madara’s hand clenches into a fist, but he remains silent, knowing that Peter is right. The flaws in his plan, laid out so plainly, leave him floored. For the first time, he sees the carelessness in his actions, the risks he took that could have easily led to failure.
Peter, sensing Madara’s turmoil, leans back in his chair again, his tone softening slightly. “Look, I’m not saying your intentions were bad. You wanted peace. You wanted to end the cycle of pain and suffering. But the way you went about it? It was flawed from the start.”
Madara looks away, the weight of Peter’s words pressing down on him. His entire life’s work, his grand plan, was being dismantled before his eyes. He had never considered the possibility that he could be wrong, that his strategy had been fundamentally flawed from the beginning.
Peter watches him carefully, giving him a moment to process. “So,” Peter finally says, breaking the silence, “what are you going to do now?”
Madara remains quiet, the anger in his eyes slowly giving way to a resigned acceptance. He had no answer, no defense for the points Peter made. His plan, the one he had spent the latter half of his life building, was crumbling, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to do.
Peter, seeing the conflict in Madara’s eyes, offers a small smile. “You can still achieve peace, Madara. But maybe it’s time to reconsider how you go about it.”
Madara glances back at Peter, the intensity in his gaze tempered by a newfound respect. “Perhaps you’re right,” he admits, his voice low but firm. “But I can’t just abandon everything I’ve worked for.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Peter replies calmly. “I’m asking you to adapt, to think bigger, to work with me instead of against the world. Together, we can come up with something that actually works.”
Madara nods slowly, the gears in his mind turning as he considers Peter’s words. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that everything he’s done might have been for nothing, but he knows deep down that Peter is offering him a way forward.
For the first time in a long while, Madara feels the stirrings of hope, tempered by the knowledge that he has much to atone for.
“Very well,” Madara finally says, his voice almost pleading. “What should we do?”
“Well,” Peter said, stretching his arms casually, “if you’re serious about changing things, there’s no time like the present. Let’s start the beginnings of world peace today.”
Madara raised an eyebrow, curious yet skeptical. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”
Peter grinned, motioning for Madara to follow him. “We’ve got a meeting to crash.”
Without further explanation, Peter began walking toward the Hokage Tower, his stride confident. Madara hesitated for only a moment before getting up and following Peter, his curiosity piqued. He couldn’t help but wonder what Peter had in mind and how this man intended to begin creating peace so soon.
As the two walked off, Teuchi and Ayame, still behind the counter of their ramen stall, exchanged glances. Little Ayame’s wide eyes followed the pair as they disappeared down the street.
“Dad,” Ayame whispered, her voice tinged with both awe and fear, “was that really Madara Uchiha?”
Teuchi, who had lived long enough to know the significance of that name, nodded slowly, still somewhat in disbelief. “I think so… but if it is, it’s a miracle we’re still standing here, Ayame.”
The weight of the situation began to settle over the two, realizing just how significant the events unfolding before them truly were.
Meanwhile, Peter and Madara continued their walk toward the Hokage Tower. The streets of Konoha were still relatively quiet as the village recovered from the earlier chaos, though a few villagers glanced at the pair with curious eyes, none daring to approach them.
Peter, sensing movement behind them, glanced back and noticed both Itachi and Shisui following at a distance, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and determination. They had tried to remain unnoticed, but their intentions were clear.
Peter stopped in his tracks, turning fully to face them. “Itachi, Shisui,” he called out, his tone firm but not unkind. “Go wait for me back at the Uchiha district. I’ll be there to train you soon.”
The two boys froze, realizing they had been caught. Itachi glanced at Shisui, who shrugged, and the two reluctantly nodded in agreement.
They cast wary glances at Madara, still uncertain about the man’s true identity, before turning and heading back in the direction of the Uchiha district.
Madara watched the exchange, a small smirk playing on his lips. “They’re persistent,” he remarked.
Peter chuckled. “They’re good kids, just a bit too curious for their own good.”
Madara said nothing in response but continued walking beside Peter, his mind still racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. He could sense the shift in his fate, the new path opening up before him, and for the first time in many years, Madara felt a glimmer of hope that things could be different.
…
As Peter and Madara approached the Hokage Tower, the two guards stationed at the entrance stood stiffly, their hands instinctively tightening on their weapons.
But when the guards saw who was approaching, their resolve quickly melted away. They exchanged nervous glances, knowing full well who Peter was—the hero who had beaten the Nine-Tails.
As for the older man walking beside him, they knew exactly who he was, having witnessed his arrival just outside the village. ‘Madara Uchiha…’ they thought, a mixture of awe and fear gripping them as they felt the overwhelming aura of power radiating from him.
So, despite their training and orders, the guards stepped aside without a word, allowing Peter and Madara to pass unhindered.
Madara noticed this, a smirk forming on his lips as he enjoyed the feeling of fear and respect that still followed him, even after all these years.
The same pattern repeated itself as they entered the Hokage Tower. People who might have normally stopped or questioned them chose to look the other way, pretending they didn’t see the two men walking through the corridors. Some hurriedly ducked into side rooms, and others simply froze in place, eyes wide with uncertainty.
Finally, they reached the Hokage’s office. A young, nervous secretary sat at a desk outside the door, her hands trembling as she worked. She looked up as the door to the office opened, and her eyes widened in fear when she saw Peter and Madara approaching. “Wait! You can’t go in there!” she stammered, standing up quickly, trying to fulfill her duty despite her fear.
Peter barely glanced at her as he continued forward. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring but with a finality that left no room for argument. “They won’t mind.”
The secretary’s mouth opened and closed as if she wanted to protest, but she found herself unable to form the words. Instead, she watched helplessly as Peter and Madara ignored her and pushed open the doors to the Hokage’s office.
Inside, the room was filled with tension. The Kage summit that Minato had hastily arranged in the wake of the earlier events was already in progress.
At the head of the room sat Minato, the Fourth Hokage, with his predecessor, the still-injured Hiruzen, standing beside him.
Across from them were the other Kages—Rasa, the Kazekage; Gengetsu Hōzuki, the Mizukage; A, the Raikage, along with his brother Bee; and Onoki, the Tsuchikage. All of them looked up sharply as the doors swung open.
“I thought we told them not to allow anyone inside—” Hiruzen began, his voice stern but trailing off as he recognized who it was. His eyes widened in shock as he saw Peter and Madara walk into the room.
Peter smiled warmly as he looked around at the assembled leaders. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, his tone polite yet carrying a confidence that made it clear he wasn’t really apologizing. “But we’d like to join the peace talks.”
A/N: 2013 words :)
