What is the Point

"Madara. The Senju are right in front of us. When will we attack?"

Madara opened his closed eyes with a complicated expression.

What were these memories? Earth. Tokyo. Manga?

"Madara! You must lead the Uchiha!"

Was everything in his reality a falsity? A mere fantasy meant for the enjoyment of others? These fragmented memories that provided no real information frustrated Madara greatly.

"Elder brother!"

Madara snapped back to reality as he faced his younger brother Izuna. He stared at his younger brother with a complicated look.

In his memories, he read about Izuna's death. He watched as he- no… not him. He watched as the Madara within the Manga tore out his dead younger brother's eyes to achieve vengeance… no matter the cost.

Was this what he wanted? Was this what awaited him at the end of the war?

Madara stood up.

What was the point of this terrible war? Madara had long forgotten why he was fighting. Why do many of his clansmen die?

This unending cycle of hatred would lead to death. To demise.

Madara took a deep breath. "Izuna. Prepare the clan."

"Yes, Madara." Said Izuna as he left the tent with Madara following close behind.

Eventually, Madara found himself on the battlefield, with his younger brother and clansmen by his side, facing against off the Senju about ten meters away.

Madara stepped forward. Hashirama followed.

Fragmented memories assailed Madara as he stared at his long-time rival and once friend, Hashirama.

Hashirama stared at Madara with great difficulty before reaching out with his hand.

"Madara. Are you not tired of this war? Let the two of us bring this war to an end and achieve that dream of ours when we were both young. A war where children have no place on a battlefield."

Madara glanced at the sky.

If he danced to the tune of fate, Izuna would die after this battle. He would surrender. He would become a puppet to a greater villain. His clan would be eradicated.

Madara closed his eyes.

Was this the path he wanted?

"Come on Madara. It is not too late to achieve peace."

Madara sighed before activating his Mangekyo Sharingan to its fullest ability.

"You and me Hashirama. One final battle."

Hashirama gave Madara a wry smile. "Always the battle maniac… what are your terms."

A white-haired ninja yelled in indignation. "Brother! Why do you trust the uchiha? We should fight until they are all dead!"

Izuna scoffed at the white-haired ninja's words, "More like fight until all Senju are dead. Don't think for a moment you can beat us."

"I think we have been beating you guys until recently."

"Let's try it one more time then."

Madara glared at Izuna with his Mangekyo Sharingan causing Izuna to flinch. Seeing this, Madara turned back to face Hashirama.

"The terms will be this. I win, you die by my hands, and your clan surrenders to me. You win, I die by yours, and my clan surrenders to you. No one else will fight. Just you and me."

Determined with his choice, Madara stared deeply into Hashirama's eyes. Perhaps this way, he would no longer become a puppet to fate.

""These are ridiculous terms!""

"Silence! Tobirama!"

"Quiet, Izuna."

Madara glared at his loud brother once more while Hashirama did the same to his causing the two of them to snort indignantly.

Hashirama glanced back at Madara.

"I will not kill you, Madara. I am tired of war. I seek peace."

Madara gave Hashirama a small smirk. He never did change.

"Then you will have to win."