In the ruins crater.
Madara's old face, smeared with mud and bloody foam, was now pale as a sheet of straw paper freshly dug out of a mass grave.
He struggled to crawl up. From the severed stump of his right arm, several ghastly white Impure World Reincarnation nerve strands still clung to the flesh. Violent tremors made grayish-white fluid, carrying a metallic stench, seep from the break.
It smelled like dead pork left out for three years, so foul that even he frowned.
"Th-this isn't right..."
Madara panted heavily. The facial-flesh tumor on his chest that belonged to Hashirama still pulsed along with his ragged breathing.
His lone eye stared fixedly at Uchiha Yoru standing at the edge of the crater.
That arrogant air was still there, but the panic he could not hide in the depths of his gaze had already spread to the corners of his eyes like mold crawling across a wall.
He was Madara Uchiha.
He had awakened the Rinnegan and even carried Hashirama Senju's Sage Art as an extra advantage.
Yet he had been blasted into doubting his entire life by two brats whose hair had barely grown in, with one Wind Release: Rasenshuriken and one Lightning Release attack?
What the hell had happened to the Shinobi World?!
"Weren't you acting pretty cocky just now?"
Yoru stood at the crater's edge, looking down at him.
The gum he had only chewed twice was still smacking in his mouth, making sticky noises.
"Get up. Keep dancing for me."
"You call this ninjutsu?"
Madara propped up his upper body. Several broken roof tiles were still tangled in his wild, weed-like hair.
He tried to stir the chakra congested within his body, but the moment he moved, that damned sealing formula sent stabbing pain through his back.