The atmosphere on the top floor of the Hokage Building was like someone had died.
Hiruzen Sarutobi slumped in his chair, his eyes vacant, like a puppet whose soul had been ripped away.
That despair spread like a plague, traveling down the cold stone walls all the way into the depths underground.
The core surveillance chamber of the Root base.
The air was cold and damp. Water dripped from the corners, carrying the moldy stench of a place that had not seen sunlight for years.
Shimura Danzō stood alone before the enormous surveillance screen, leaning on his cane.
More than a dozen split screens displayed the Stone Village delegation's every move in real time from different angles.
Danzo's single eye was fixed tightly on the screen in the center.
On it, Uchiha Yoru was leading that group of brats down Leaf Village's commercial street in a grand, unhurried manner.
He looked relaxed and unconcerned, as though he were strolling through his own backyard.
To him, the Leaf Village Anbu surrounding them as if facing a great enemy seemed no more than a pack of laughable ants.
"Crack."
Danzo gripped his cane so hard that it creaked.
A phantom pain suddenly shot through his heavily bandaged right arm.
Sharp and bone-deep, as if the bones had been brutally crushed beneath someone's foot all over again.
Back on the Night of the Nine-Tails, at the village gate.
That man had looked at him like trash and crushed his arm underfoot, grinding all his dignity and trump cards into the dirt.
That fear and humiliation still coiled through his midnight dreams like a venomous snake.
"He... how could he..."
Danzo's voice was hoarse. His lips trembled, and he did not even notice the quiver in his own voice.
"How could he really dare