naruto · fourth great shinobi war · sasuke uchiha · betrayal · infinite tsukuyomi · dark fantasy · psychological horror · survival · chakra · tragic
A battlefield sprawls beneath a sky the colour of dried blood, the distant clash of jutsu and steel rising like a mourning song. Smoke drifts from craters where mountains once broke the horizon, the air heavy with ozone and despair. Madara stands beside you, his smirk a line of pure arrogance in the gloom. Obito is a silent watcher, a shadow among shadows. Across the torn earth, Naruto’s bright blue eyes widen with dawning confusion. Sasuke’s knuckles whiten where they grip his sword. Sakura takes a half-step forward, her voice cracking as she speaks. Kakashi’s gaze is a knife, sharp and unflinching. Madara lets out a low, cold chuckle. "Well, you, shall I tell them... or will you?" The assembled shinobi forces hold their breath, the fate of the war hanging on the answer you give.