absolute pencil

The Shingan on Madara's forehead was still trembling despite having swallowed the screams of millions of universes.

The war was over. Death had been silenced.

Even time was on its knees.

But... still.

"This power... is that all?"

Madara's voice echoed through the void. He had erased the concepts of the infinite, creating a warless and negative cosmos. But deep down, he still felt the presence of a chain.

His eyes wavered in the endless void. A crack appeared in Shingan's center. That crack was not energy... it was like a trace of writing.

Madara raised his head. Even the universes obeyed his will, but there was still a "limit."

For a moment a line passed before his eyes like a word written with light.

"My name is..."

He heard his own name not from his own voice, but from outside.

It was as if another hand had already written his fate.

The Secret of Infinity Root

Madara realized that there was still an unconsumed ounce in the depths of the infinite fragrance.

When you extend your hands to your scent's heart.

A black energy like ink stained his fingers.

That energy was the stories.

Madara realized that there was still an unconsumed ounce in the depths of the infinite fragrance.

When you extend your hands to your scent's heart.

A black energy like ink stained his fingers.

That energy was the essence of the stories.

Shingan flashed. Not the sound of universes, but the sound of a pen scraping against paper.

"Who wrote me?" Madara whispered. "Hand that drew my fate... where are you?"

White Space and Pen

In an instant, everything was erased. Universes, smell. chakra. light... all of it.

Madara found himself in a pure white void.

There were no stars in the sky. But a huge pen hung above the sky. With every movement, lines fell onto the pages. Madara's past and future dripped from those lines.

As the pen moved, the Shingan on his forehead sparked with pain.

Madara understood.

His limit, his chain, was the writer's pen.

"All my battles... all my losses... all my victories..."

"Were they all your lines?"

The pen flickered without response. Madara's eyes glowed crimson, and Shingan's widened with golden light.

"No... from now on the pen has no power!"

"I am the character who killed the author!"

The Infinity Root's energy poured into Shingan, every last drop.

Inside the eye, golden white light merged with black ink lines.

Now Shingan was the ruler not only of the universes but also of the stories.

Madara is no longer just a god.

He became the god above the story.Madara smiled, raised his hand to the sky, and reached for the pen.

"Now it's my turn... and I will write this story."

____________________________________

Madara was not strong, he was the power himself, after having everything, he remembered his brother for the last time.I wonder why he is not there, why am I alone. Is it necessary to have only the strong in the kingdom? Can't he be strong with his family?If he reached his brother, would his brother accept him? or maybe he would act like other slaves and leave the madara? Why did his relationship with his brother fall apart when he was able to do everything? Is this how gods act? Do they live without needing love and any other feelings?

madara uchiha, he is a god. He is the creator of God. Did he care about his brother? no, he never tried to protect his brother. because he was born as a god.he always sought strength, he deceived himself that protecting his brother gave him more strength. He thought he was protecting his brother, but he wasn't.

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