The ruins of Konoha lay in a dead silence so oppressive it made people's teeth ache.
The air still carried the lingering stench of charred flesh. It was the foul smell left behind after Kaguya had been slapped into the mud by Yoru, her God Tree energy burned open.
Yoru stood amid the rubble and muck, both hands in his pockets. There were even a few old grease stains on his trench coat collar that he had not wiped clean.
He casually spat the chewed-up gum from his mouth. The soft wad splatted directly onto a broken stone carved with Konoha's emblem.
"Alright, finally some peace and quiet."
Before Yoru could finish savoring the moment, a soft white light suddenly descended from the cloud cover shattered by the previous battle.
The light was gentle yet strangely blinding, and it even carried the scent of sandalwood that made people sleepy—the same stale odor as the decrepit temple where the old monk at the village entrance chanted sutras.
"What the hell is that?" Naruto scratched the back of his golden head, digging several clumps of gray mud from beneath his fingernails. He casually wiped them on his clothes. "That light's blinding. Why does it look like some oversized lightbulb?"
Yoru did not respond to him at all.
He merely narrowed his eyes, his scarlet Mangekyō Sharingan fixed firmly on the phantom that was slowly condensing within the light.
It was an old man with a long beard, clutching a staff, several Truth-Seeking Orbs floating behind his back.
The Sage of Six Paths.
Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo.
No one knew when this old bastard had drifted down. The detached expression on his face, as though he had seen through all worldly affairs, made Yoru's teeth itch.
"Descendant of the Uchiha Clan."
Hagoromo's voice drifted vaguely