Momoshiki Ōtsutsuki's flagship had now become a heap of scrap metal slowly spinning through space.
The brutal collision had filled the cabin with the smell of burnt electronic components, leaving their nostrils stinging with the acrid scent of scorched gunpowder.
Yoru stood before the main console, the tip of his leather shoe resting on a metal panel that had been blasted loose by the shockwave.
The metal panel was covered in scratches, its edges smeared with a sticky blue jelly-like residue left behind by some unknown alien creature, giving off a strange fishy-sweet smell.
"Orochimaru, have we got the coordinates for those bastards' Inner base?"
Yoru pulled out a slightly damp cigarette from his trench coat pocket and tapped it against the console without lighting it.
The damp tobacco scent added a faint trace of human warmth to the space steeped in slaughter.
"Lord Yoru, that shot just now blasted their shipborne logic matrix full of holes."
Orochimaru stood beside a pile of cables still crackling with electrical sparks, a huge smear of greasy black soot staining his white lab coat.
He ran his tongue around his lips, his golden vertical pupils gleaming with a disturbing, perverse excitement.
"I've forcibly reverse-locked their spatial anchor point."
"Those Kara fools are now like people standing naked right in front of us..."
Orochimaru let out a sinister chuckle, the tip of the syringe filled with green toxin in his hand glinting faintly beneath the lights.
"Then let's go."
Ignoring Orochimaru's nonsense, Yoru stuffed the unlit cigarette into his mouth and chewed it hard twice.
"It's time those rats hiding beneath Amegakure saw the sunlight."
He turned and strode toward the lowest deck of the warship.
There was an experimental spatial gate there, designed specifically for ultra-short-range warp jumps.
Amegakure, three thousand meters beneath