Hashirama's Resolve

The mask shattered continuously, a trickle of blood spilling from his temple.

The injury was light, merely a graze, but Senju Hashirama was, by all accounts, the number one in the ninja world.

"The plan is complete. Now it's time to let that First Tsuchikage understand the consequences of talking too much. I hope he hasn't returned to the front lines yet."

Muttering to himself, Shin reached into the space beside him, pulled out a black cloak to drape over his shoulders, and fastened a new Whirlpool Mask onto his face.

"Tobirama!"

Seeing the Golden Dragon tear through space in pursuit, Hashirama had no time to worry about whether the other party was dead; he rushed back toward Tobirama and pulled him up.

The residual warmth in his body was fading, his pulse already extremely weak and continuing to wane.

There was a deep Kunai wound in his chest, blood spilling from it incessantly.

Hashirama's gaze grew dim, panic and despair surfacing in his pupils. Never before had he felt such despair, as if the entire world were shrouded in darkness.

"Tobirama, wake up! Don't scare me, wake up!" He called out incessantly, pouring Wood Style chakra, brimming with life force, into his body.

But it was to no avail. Though he possessed the body of a Sage, that did not mean he could truly bring a person back from the dead.

Tobirama's heart had been pierced; he was on the verge of death—no, he was already dead, not even in a lingering state of life.

"Damn it, damn it..." Hashirama roared in madness, punching the earth with a clenched fist until the entire forest shook beneath his blows.

He had thought he had achieved his dream, that he could hold peace firmly in his hands and protect everyone