"Hashirama!"
Uchiha Madara narrowed his eyes slightly as he surveyed the strange space and said, "This wasn't cooked up by that scheming white-haired brother of yours, was it?"
"Don't pin every black pot on Tobirama. Do you really think he'd mess with me, his big brother?" Hashirama retorted as he observed their surroundings.
"That's true!" Uchiha Madara nodded instinctively.
Then, he narrowed his eyes. Three tomoe slowly spun as he carefully examined this bizarre space.
Beneath their feet lay what appeared to be calm water, yet it was no ordinary liquid. There were no ripples, no movement, not even reflections. Stranger still, despite not circulating any Chakra, his body stood steadily atop the water.
All around them was boundless darkness. Only the spot where they stood held the slightest trace of light.
After observing for a moment, Hashirama frowned and said, "What exactly is this place? We—"
Before he could finish, hazy ripples suddenly spread out before them.
The space twisted faintly as an illusory figure slowly emerged. As time passed, its blurry outline gradually solidified. In the end, an aged old man sat steadily before them.
He wore an ancient robe, had two horns growing from his head, six black tomoe-like markings on his chest, and a red spiral emblem on his back.
At the sight, Madara's pupils abruptly contracted. The muscles throughout his body tensed slightly as he demanded, "Who are you?"
Hashirama stared at the other man with equal vigilance. Yet more than hostility, he felt as though he had seen this old man somewhere before, though he could not recall where.
The old man did not answer immediately. He simply watched them quietly, a faint smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.
Seeing this, Uchiha Madara instantly lost patience and swung a kick at him.