The monitoring equipment shrieked, each alarm more urgent than the last.
Konan knelt on one knee, both hands pressed firmly against Nagato's chest.
"Hold on."
Her voice tightened as she repeatedly drove the heels of her hands downward.
Nagato's chest rose and fell slightly with the compressions, but his face was utterly bloodless. His Rinnegan remained open, yet their purple ripples had lost their usual oppressive presence, their eye power so dim it was barely perceptible.
His heartbeat faltered.
His breathing had all but stopped.
The chakra remaining in his body had slipped out of control, surging wildly through his chakra pathways. His body, already ravaged by the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path, had begun collapsing completely after Lie Yang's strike.
Konan grabbed a syringe and plunged it into the side of Nagato's neck.
She injected the medicine.
No response.
She immediately switched to a second syringe, then connected both nutrient solution and blood to his IV lines.
"Nagato, can you hear me?"
Nagato did not respond.
The line on the monitor fluctuated wildly a few times before flattening again.
Konan's expression changed completely.
When Yahiko had died before her and Nagato all those years ago, Nagato had suffered heart-wrenching agony, the despair of watching his ideals crumble.
But back then, Nagato had at least been alive.
He could still roar, still weep, still use his Rinnegan to turn all his hatred into strength.
This was different.
Now, the Nagato lying before her was on the verge of losing even the ability to feel anger.
From an unknown distance, Lie Yang had unleashed a technique that cut straight into Nagato's spiritual origin. The strike had left no damage on the tower, had not even torn through a wall, yet it had been crueler than any ninjutsu.
His mind fractured.