MTLNOVEL Chapter 3: the solutions and the warning
(timeskip)
It's been a week since my brother and I acquired our Devil Fruits, and as expected, our father ordered us to train them rigorously. Most of our training consisted of sparring, pushing each other to adapt and refine our newfound abilities. During this time, I finally unlocked my full beast transformation, taking the form of a colossal fox standing at 10 meters tall with a single tail. At first glance, it resembled an ordinary fox, but one eerie distinction set it apart—I had multiple eyes scattered across my entire body.
Adjusting to this transformation was no easy feat. It took me three days to train myself to manage the overwhelming influx of visual information. Fortunately, my abilities allowed me to selectively activate or deactivate certain eyes at will, ensuring that I wouldn't be overloaded with unnecessary details. However, all the visual data my eyes perceived was still processed by my brain—just at a steady, controlled pace to prevent sensory overload.
Madara, though he would never admit it outright, felt a twinge of jealousy watching both Izuna and me unlock beast forms while he had none. His frustration was evident, and after brooding for a while, he finally approached me. Given my reputation as the most creative person in the entire clan, he sought my help in developing his own unique transformation.
After some thought, I considered how his Shadow-Shadow Fruit granted him the ability to manipulate darkness and create constructs with relative ease. Inspired by this, I suggested he try imbuing his own body with shadows, molding them into something greater. However, his attempts at doing so failed—repeatedly.
For three days, Madara struggled, unable to fuse his physical form with his shadows. Seeing his frustration grow, I advised him to start small, using the shadows of his surroundings rather than his own. His current level of mastery likely wasn't advanced enough to internalize the darkness within himself yet. Though reluctant at first, Madara begrudgingly accepted the advice, and soon, progress began to take shape.
On the seventh day, Madara finally achieved his full transformation. Unlike Izuna's majestic phoenix form or my eerie multi-eyed fox, Madara's new form resembled a shadow demon—a towering figure of living darkness, with piercing crimson eyes and elongated, clawed limbs. The ominous presence it radiated was enough to instill fear in anyone who laid eyes on it, something Madara took immense pride in. Izuna and I simply went along with it, knowing that his love for intimidation was as strong as his desire for strength.
Izuna, however, required the most guidance. Unlike Madara and me, he wasn't as naturally imaginative and lacked the same unyielding pride that often drove Madara to figure things out on his own. Instead, he frequently sought advice and instruction, willing to take in any knowledge that could help him grow. To enhance his abilities, I suggested he attempt to imbue his healing flames with fire chakra, allowing him to manipulate whether his flames would heal or burn at will.
Normally, mastering such fine control would take years. However, with both Madara and me using our Sharingan to study his chakra flow and guide his adjustments, Izuna was able to refine the technique in just six days. His progress was also aided by the fact that he was a fire release prodigy, much like our grandfather. Our grandfather's fire techniques were so powerful that many in the clan once believed them to be the result of a Mangekyō Sharingan ability. However, before his death, he admitted that he had never unlocked the Mangekyō, expressing his greatest regret in life was failing to attain its legendary power.
But I was different.
Throughout my life, I had dedicated an unhealthy amount of time to researching the Mangekyō Sharingan—its requirements, its limits, and how to unlock it without killing someone close. For years, I had theorized that there was a golden period for awakening it—an age range where it was easiest to unlock. Based on my research, the earliest possible awakening could occur around six to seven years old, while the latest window extended to seventeen to eighteen. Even in a wartime era like ours, these limits seemed consistent.
That was a problem.
Madara was already sixteen, while Izuna and I, being twins, were fifteen. That left me with only a year or two to unlock the Mangekyō Sharingan for all three of us. It wasn't impossible, but it wouldn't be easy.
One potential method was a genjutsu-induced awakening, similar to what Itachi did to Izumi in another timeline. However, such a feat would require at minimum a peak three-tomoe Sharingan, which none of us had achieved yet. It was a long road ahead, but within that timeframe, unlocking the Mangekyō Sharingan was not unachievable.
But honestly, my biggest concern was the inevitable drain on our visual prowess with each use of the Mangekyō Sharingan. Years of research led me to some potential solutions, though none were perfect.
The first solution was Yang chakra, which is the primary reason behind Hashirama Senju's unparalleled healing abilities. If applied correctly, it could theoretically regenerate the Mangekyō over time. The problem was that an Uchiha's natural affinity for Yang Release was limited, meaning even with intense training, the best we could achieve would be around one-fourth of Hashirama's regenerative capacity—which would still be impressive. At best, an Uchiha could reach about half the regeneration of an average Senju, but exceptions existed. Those with an exceptional chakra pool and talent, such as Madara, Sasuke, Izuna, and myself, could push those limits further. Still, even in the best-case scenario, this method wouldn't be enough to completely negate the Mangekyō's deterioration—just slow it down.
The second solution was Sage Mode. Hashirama mastered it quickly, and if he could, then Madara should be able to learn it in a similar time frame, given his potential. Izuna would likely take about three to five weeks, and I assumed my progress would be similar to Madara's. While Sage Mode wouldn't directly restore the eyes, it could extend the time we could use the Mangekyō without deterioration by significantly improving our chakra efficiency and physical endurance. However, this was only a temporary fix, as prolonged use would still degrade our vision over time.
Even the Phoenix Fruit wouldn't be of much help. From what I deduced from One Piece, Marco's regeneration didn't fully heal old wounds; it only prolonged his endurance and mitigated damage. Whitebeard, despite Marco's constant healing, still suffered from aging and past injuries. If the Phoenix Fruit functioned similarly in this world, it would extend the Mangekyō's usability but not restore lost vision. That meant Izuna's Devil Fruit was a support tool, not a cure.
The fourth solution involved the Star Meteor from the Land of Bears, the same one that would eventually give rise to the Hidden Star Village in the future. According to a journal written by my four-times-great-grandfather, he had been present in the Land of Bears when the meteor first fell, meaning it was already here. This meteor was unique because it emitted a form of radiation that enhanced chakra to unnatural levels—potentially useful for regenerating or even evolving the Mangekyō. However, the biggest challenge was dealing with the lethal radiation it emitted.
The only viable method I could think of was using Uzumaki sealing techniques to contain and regulate the chakra exposure, slowing down the effects but making it safer to use. It wouldn't be an instant solution, but over time, it could help unlock an entirely new way of enhancing the Sharingan without the drawbacks.
A final approach was to study Sage Mode further. If I could master Senjutsu, I might be able to analyze the meteor's radiation in comparison to raw nature energy. If the two were compatible, it could mean that Natural Energy could act as a buffer, making the meteor's power usable without its harmful side effects. But that theory was untested, and I'd need to reach perfect Sage Mode before I could even begin experimenting.
For now, these were just theories, but if even one of them worked, it could mean the difference between becoming blind or unlocking the true potential of the Mangekyō Sharingan.
The final and most costly method was cloning technology. Years ago, I had looked into the scientific advancements of this world and discovered that a coalition of clans had managed to develop the bare minimum of what I needed for viable cloning. However, their progress was rudimentary at best, incapable of fully replicating a Sharingan's intricate evolution.
Fortunately, with my system, I had a strong suspicion that quests were tailored to my needs or the situations I found myself in. If that was true, then at some point, I would likely receive cloning technology as a quest reward. Even if I didn't, I could purchase it from the shop, which had unlocked on the seventh day.
From both my research in this life and memories from my past life, I had uncovered a critical truth: simply transplanting new eyes wouldn't work. During recovery, the Mangekyō Sharingan fully merges into the Eternal Mangekyō, meaning there was no going back once the process was complete. If I wanted to preserve my brothers' Mangekyō Sharingan without forcing them to sacrifice each other's eyes, I needed to clone them and transplant the clone's eyes instead.
However, there was one major flaw in this plan: I had yet to figure out how to mature the Sharingan in a clone to the Mangekyō stage. I had a theory—and a half-solution.
The theory was that if I imbued the clone's brain with my brother's chakra, it might do one of two things: immediately awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan or at least accelerate its development until it naturally reached that state. However, chakra alone might not be enough to stimulate the necessary emotional trauma required for the transformation.
That's when my curse technique, Echoes of Madness, awakened—and with it, I devised a potential solution.
This formidable curse technique plunges both the user and the victim into an abyss of psychological horror. Drawing upon my own subconscious fears and inner turmoil, I could birth illusions of unparalleled realism, ensnaring the senses and manipulating perception to evoke the purest form of terror.
The victims of Echoes of Madness don't simply see illusions—they experience them in every sense. The technique creates grotesque apparitions, harrowing scenarios, and relentless psychological attacks that manifest in a way that transcends mere vision. The mind is besieged by fear, the body feels pain as if it were real, and the spirit slowly crumbles under the weight of absolute despair.
Unlike conventional genjutsu, which relies on disrupting chakra flow, this technique attacks the very soul, making it exponentially harder to break free from. However, such power comes at a cost—the more I use it, the greater the risk of irreversible psychological deterioration. Wielding Echoes of Madness too recklessly could lead to a complete breakdown of my sanity.
Despite the risks, I had forged an extension technique, something that could turn this cursed ability into a practical tool:
An advanced extension of Echoes of Madness, Soul Convergence allows me to absorb and fuse the souls trapped within my domain, amplifying the power of my illusions. Each absorbed soul enhances the detail, realism, and intensity of my creations, making them more than just hallucinations—they become quasi-physical manifestations.
With a foundation soul, I can customize my illusions to elicit specific emotions in a target. Fear, sorrow, rage—whatever I choose, the victim will feel it as if it were real. If I opt to make these creations semi-tangible or purely illusory, they can last indefinitely, limited only by my willpower.
However, where Soul Convergence truly shines is in its ability to steal abilities from fallen enemies—at a steep cost. To absorb a technique, I must sacrifice 50,000 souls, and each new ability requires a two-week cooldown before I can acquire another. The stronger the ability, the greater the risk to my mental stability.
While this technique grants me an unparalleled level of versatility, there is a dangerous drawback: if I push past my mental limits, my own identity could fracture, or worse, I could permanently lose myself to madness.
Using Soul Convergence for the Sharingan Solution
This is where my half-solution came into play.
If I could imbue the clone with not just chakra but also memories and emotions through Soul Convergence, I might be able to artificially induce the emotional trauma required to awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan. Essentially, I could manipulate the very essence of the clone's soul, embedding experiences that would trick the Sharingan into believing it had suffered a great loss—just as a natural Mangekyō user would.
This method had never been attempted before. If it worked, it would be a groundbreaking discovery—a way to artificially create Mangekyō Sharingan without the need for true suffering.
But if it failed?
The clone's mind could shatter, leaving behind a lifeless husk of insanity.
The last method, though the most uncertain, relied purely on luck—that my Mangekyō Sharingan ability would be something specifically suited for countering its own drawbacks. However, that was entirely dependent on the circumstances of my awakening, which could happen anytime after I fully developed my three-tomoe Sharingan. There was no guarantee.
I was pulled from my thoughts by a light tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I saw Madara and Izuna, both wearing concerned expressions.
"Jinx, what's on your mind?" Madara asked, his voice carrying the firm yet familiar tone of an older brother. "And don't tell me it's nothing—every time you stare into space like that, you're either thinking about that secret you've been keeping for years or figuring out how to create a new jutsu. Also, don't try to lie. Mother told me all your tells before she passed."
I sighed. He wasn't wrong. The only person who had ever been able to see through my lies was Mother, and she had clearly passed that knowledge to Madara before she died.
Summoning three black ice chairs, I motioned for us to sit.
"Look," I began, glancing at both of them, "years ago, I researched the Sharingan and discovered that there's a golden period for awakening the Mangekyō Sharingan. The earliest it can be awakened is around six or seven years old, though it's not recommended because the strain is far worse at that age. The latest is between seventeen and eighteen—meaning if we don't awaken it within the next year or two, our window of opportunity will start to close. And that's not even factoring in the inevitable drawbacks of using the Mangekyō itself."
Madara and Izuna tensed at my words, realizing the urgency of what I was saying.
"Now, I've found a few methods to counter the Mangekyō's drawbacks, but they each come with their own risks," I continued. "The first method… would require one of us to sacrifice ourselves, allowing the others to keep their Mangeky—"
"That is NOT an option!" Madara cut me off sharply, his voice filled with anger and protectiveness. His outburst wasn't unexpected. The most important thing to Madara was us—his brothers. Besides our mother, Izuna and I were the only ones who truly understood him. Well, Hashirama came close… but that was before he became Hokage.
I allowed a small smile to form at Madara's reaction before moving on.
"The second method is training our Yang chakra to enhance our healing capabilities. If we can push it far enough, we may be able to restore our lost ocular power, so long as we have even the slightest amount of light left in our eyes. However, a much better outcome would be if we could somehow obtain Hashirama's cells."
At the mention of Hashirama, both of my brothers exchanged confused glances.
"Why Hashirama's cells?" Izuna asked, tilting his head slightly. "What makes them so special?"
I could see that even Madara, despite being close to Hashirama, was curious and slightly concerned.
"I only saw him on the battlefield once when I snuck out," I explained. "I watched as he got injured, and then I watched how he healed. No other shinobi—not the Senju, the Uzumaki, or any other clan—has ever displayed that kind of natural regeneration. I searched through every journal, battle report, and recorded history, and I found nothing comparable. If we could harness his cells correctly, we could potentially use the Mangekyō Sharingan with far more freedom, reducing the risk of blindness significantly."
Madara crossed his arms, processing my words, while Izuna nodded in understanding.
"The next method is Sage Mode," I continued. "There are three primary sources: Mount Myōboku, Shikkotsu Forest, and Ryūchi Cave. But Mount Myōboku has never been found, and the only trace of Shikkotsu Forest is controlled by the Senju. That leaves Ryūchi Cave, which I've narrowed down to being somewhere deep in the Land of Earth. It'll take a few more months to pinpoint its exact location."
They both nodded in understanding.
"The only problem," I added, "is that even Sage Mode wouldn't permanently solve the issue. It would make us stronger, extend our Mangekyō's usability, and increase our overall chakra reserves, but in the long run, we'd still experience degradation. Even so, it's definitely worth pursuing."
I hesitated for a brief moment before continuing.
"There's one more thing I haven't told you two."
Both of them turned their full attention toward me.
"Aside from the three legendary Sage locations, I've come across evidence of other summoning creatures that might offer their own Sage Modes."
"Other summons?" Izuna asked, intrigued.
I nodded. "Yes. Crows, foxes, panthers, and bats. I've already acquired the Crows' summoning contract—it was in my possession before I first stepped onto the battlefield. As for the others, I've managed to narrow down their locations."
Madara leaned forward slightly. "Where are they?"
"The Panthers and Bats are still uncertain, but I have a lead that might pinpoint them soon. However, for the Foxes, I came across an old report about a master of Ice Release from 300 years ago. He was said to have had a contract with the Foxes before he died. According to my findings, he spent his final days in the Land of Snow."
Izuna's eyes widened slightly. "So that's where we start looking?"
"Exactly," I confirmed. "If we can find the Foxes, they might have a unique Sage Mode that no one else has ever tapped into."
Madara exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Jinx, I swear… you think further ahead than anyone else in the clan. If even half of these ideas work, we'll be far stronger than anyone could expect."
I smirked. "That's the plan, brother."
The battlefield was deathly silent.
Only the sound of shifting rubble and the crackling of disturbed earth filled the air. Madara and Izuna stood their ground, their breathing uneven, their Sharingan spinning as they analyzed me.
My Conqueror's Haki had already shaken them, leaving them slightly off balance. But I wasn't done.
This wasn't just about power.
This was about fear.
I let out a slow breath, my fingers twitching as I reached for the essence of my Echoes of Madness.
A dark pulse spread outward.
The ground beneath us distorted. The world warped unnaturally, as if something unseen had taken hold of reality and begun twisting it like wet clay.
Madara's eyes flickered as he instinctively activated his two-tomoe Sharingan, trying to see through the deception. Izuna followed, his own Sharingan glowing in the dimming light.
But this wasn't genjutsu.
This was something else.
"Brace yourselves, brothers." I said softly.
Then, I snapped my fingers.
And the world shattered.
Madara took a step forward—only to realize he was no longer on the battlefield.
The air was thick and suffocating, as if he were underwater. But there was no water—only a heavy, oppressive weight pressing down on his lungs.
The sky was black, with no moon, no stars—only darkness.
The ground beneath him felt unstable, like standing on something alive. His heartbeat quickened, instincts screaming at him to be ready for anything.
Then, the first whisper came.
"Madara..."
The voice was familiar yet wrong. A distorted echo of his own voice, layered over with something inhuman.
Then came the visions.
He saw a tree—massive, its roots wrapping around the earth like chains. It pulsed with life, but not natural life. Something ancient. Something wrong.
Then he saw himself.
An older version of himself, standing beneath the tree, his long hair flowing behind him. His eyes… they were different. Not just the Sharingan. There was something beyond that. Something powerful.
Then the moon opened its eye.
A vast, glowing Rinnegan burned in the sky.
"Infinite Tsukuyomi!"
A blinding white light erupted from above, consuming everything. The world itself bent to his will. The people below… they froze. Their eyes glazed over. Their bodies withered, trapped in a dream they would never wake from.
But then—
A shadow moved behind him.
Madara's older self turned slightly, just enough to see it.
Something had been there all along.
It slithered through the darkness, shapeless yet ever-present. Watching. Waiting.
And then—
It struck.
A hand—black as the void, twisted and gnarled—pierced through Madara's older self's back, straight through his chest.
Madara gasped.
The light of the Infinite Tsukuyomi flickered.
His older self turned, eyes wide, mouth opening as if to say something—but no words came out.
Only silence.
The hand twisted, and with a slow, sickening motion, it dragged him down into the shadows.
"You were never the one in control."
The voice was neither man nor beast. It was something deeper. Something that had always been lurking beneath.
"You were merely a vessel."
The darkness swallowed everything.
Madara screamed.
And then—
Madara snapped back into the real world.
He collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, his hands clawing at the dirt as if trying to hold onto reality itself. His body was drenched in sweat, his mind reeling from what he had just witnessed.
His Sharingan burned, the two tomoe in each eye glowing intensely. His vision felt clearer, sharper—but something was missing.
He had been on the edge of something more. The third tomoe was right there, but something held it back—a fear, an uncertainty.
Izuna coughed, shaking off his own illusions, his two-tomoe Sharingan now stronger than before. He had seen something—not as horrifying as Madara's vision, but something that still shook him.
I stood over them, arms crossed, watching.
Madara looked up at me, his expression a mix of anger, confusion—and something else.
I had given him a vision he would never forget.
And more than that—
I had planted a seed of paranoia.
A warning buried in his mind, one he couldn't ignore.
I turned to leave, but as I walked away, I spoke just loud enough for him to hear:
"Be careful who you trust."
Madara didn't respond.
But I knew he had heard me.
And I knew that from this moment forward, the shadow of doubt would never leave him.
The battle was over. But something deeper had happened.
Madara and Izuna had both grown, their Sharingan evolving in the heat of battle.
But more than that—Madara had been changed.
His peak two-tomoe Sharingan was now stronger than ever, but his mind was burdened with unanswered questions.
The vision had been too real.
And the worst part?
He didn't even know what he was afraid of.
Only that something was out there.
Something had been watching him all along.
And one day, it would come for him.