The wind grew even stronger.
Bits of gravel from the wasteland were swept up by the wind and struck Yoru's black leather shoes with soft rustling sounds.
Yoru took the cigarette that had nearly burned to the filter from his mouth.
Pinching the butt between his fingers, he pressed it against a charred wooden stump nearby.
The ember went out with a sizzle, leaving behind a black mark.
"The times have changed."
Yoru exhaled those words along with a small puff of un-inhaled white smoke.
The smoke was carried by the wind across the wasteland and smeared across Madara Uchiha's face.
Madara stood beside that muddy pit.
His bare soles stepped in a pool of murky blood, its surface reflecting his deathly pale face.
He glared fixedly at the two meteors in the distance that had been cleaved in half and were still spewing black smoke.
The grayish-white dead skin around his eyelids twitched uncontrollably.
A six-year-old brat.
One slash.
Had cut apart his Tengai Shinsei.
And the cut was fucking smooth, like slicing tofu.
Madara clenched his molars, squeezing out a bit of bloody foam with a metallic tang through his teeth.
He raised his left hand, which had been mangled into a bloody mess by wind blades.
The dust of Impure World Reincarnation wriggled over the wound like insects, slowly filling in the exposed white bone.
It was a little itchy and a little sore.
With a look of disgust, he shook his arm, flinging off several drops of yellowish-green pus.
"Enough already. Why are you acting so profound?"
Ōnoki floundered twice in the muddy water, braced his hands against his thighs, and struggled to stand.
The old man's red Tsuchikage robes were completely filthy, with a huge patch of black mud smeared over his crotch.
He panted