Izuna looked bewildered as he lowered his head to examine his hands, which were covered in cracks.
Those cracks were not scars. They were more like marks of something beyond the realm of the living, cold and lifeless, with an unsettling wrongness that did not belong in this world.
In his lifetime, there had been no such method as the Impure World Reincarnation Jutsu to toy with the souls of the dead.
Death had once been a clear concept to him: fighting, falling, and his consciousness sinking into eternal darkness or returning to the Pure Land.
That was why he had initially assumed his incredibly capable brother had brought him back to life. It had never occurred to him that someone had dragged him out of the Underworld after his death.
But now, as Izuna brushed his fingertips across his palm, the sensation was dull, as though he were touching a piece of pottery connected to him yet separated by some invisible barrier. He vaguely began to understand.
This state of "existence," somewhere between life and death, was ambiguous and eerie, leaving him unable to make sense of what he was.
"We're both already dead?" Izuna murmured blankly.
"That's right. You're both already dead!"
An popped up again, his tone as cheerful as though he were sharing an amusing anecdote, while his eyes gleamed with a malicious eagerness to stir up trouble.
"Oh, and by the way, the person who killed your brother Madara was Senju Hashirama!"
An continued stoking Izuna's anger.
"What?" As expected, Izuna flew into a rage, murderous intent erupting from him.
"Senju Hashirama!!!"
Izuna roared and whipped his head around to face Madara.
Veins bulged on his neck, and his Sharingan manifested uncontrollably in his fury, its scarlet Mangekyō spinning wildly.
His gaze held anger and