The rescued Jiraiya pressed himself tightly against a rust-covered, shattered wall, gulping down ragged breaths. Every breath sent violent spasms through the stump of his severed arm. His bloodshot eyes were wide as he stared blankly at the back of the black trench coat that had suddenly appeared before him. His mind felt like it had been stuffed with paste, and he could not process what was happening. "Y-Yoru... you little bastard, how could you..." Jiraiya spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm with difficulty. His hoarse throat rasped like a broken bellows dragging through sand, and he could not even finish half a sentence.
"Say less, Jiraiya! Keep talking, and the hemostatic medicine I just put on you will have been wasted!" Sage Fukasaku shouted at the top of his lungs, his mud-covered paws pressing hard against Jiraiya's bloody shoulder as he hopped anxiously in place. The temperature in the air dropped to freezing once more, and a scalp-numbing silence crashed down over the ruins. The six Pains, originally as cold and still as statues, had all turned their strange purple eyes toward Uchiha Yoru, locking every shred of killing intent onto him.
"Another one here to die, Uchiha Yoru." Deva Path Pain's projection flickered faintly in midair, emitting a hissing electrical buzz. A corpse-like indifference flashed through his lifeless Rinnegan. "Though you possess some unnatural methods, before the power of a god, you are no different from the trash in these ruins." "Since you chose to stand with the remnants of the old era, prepare to descend into hell with them."
"Going on and on about gods... did you forget your medicine before leaving home, Nagato?" Yoru impatiently picked at his ear, then flicked a tiny piece of earwax into the muddy water at his feet with a