Naruto: I Am Uchiha Madara

The relentless rain was a constant companion in the Land of Rain, mirroring the ceaseless conflict that consumed the ninja world. Deep beneath the soggy earth, within a cavern carved by secrets and time, a figure stirred.

Uchiha Madara, the legend thought long dead, sat cross-legged amidst the scattered remnants of White Zetsu clones and a fading pool of black ooze. His eyes, once closed in perpetual vigil, now snapped open. They were not the eyes of the frail, elderly Madara of old, but rather the sharp, pitch-black eyes of a man restored to his prime.

He felt the surge of power, the familiar hum of chakra, but beneath it, a strange, exhilarating newness. He was Uchiha Madara, yet he was not. The world above was tearing itself apart, a petty squabble compared to the grandeur he now embodied.

A White Zetsu, recovering from the spatial disturbance, cautiously approached. "Lord Madara… You… What happened…?"

Madara's lips curved into a dangerous smile. "That's right. I have regained the power of my prime!"

He looked around the familiar, yet somehow alien, cavern. The scattered White Zetsu, the residue of Black Zetsu's demise. His stage was set, and the world was utterly unaware of the true monster that had just reawakened.