Sen spat out a fruit pit from his perch in the tree. Like a puddle of foul, rotten sludge, Black Zetsu squirmed up Madara's shriveled calf. Sen raised an eyebrow with a roguish grin. "Old Madara, you must usually keep this lackey of yours well fed. I'm about to suck you dry, and instead of protecting his master, he's crawling up your trouser leg. What, is he planning to carve up your last scraps of flesh while you're still warm?"
Madara hung upside down among the black vines. His shriveled eyelids barely opened a slit, and his ragged breaths reeked of blood. He struggled to lower his head and saw a lump of black mud, radiating a foul, sinister chill, crawling toward his groin. "Black Zetsu! You useless waste! Get off! I have no time for you now. Go get the Ten-Tails' core back for me!" Madara cursed through clenched teeth, his voice cracking like broken bellows.
The black mud did not stop. Instead, he picked up speed. Icy slime seeped through Madara's skin, making him shudder. Black Zetsu's harsh, grating voice rang out beneath Madara's feet. "Lord Madara, looking like that, you probably don't even have the strength to pull out a wooden splinter, do you? That brat has the Ten-Tails' core in his hand, rolling it around like a ball. Forget about getting it back. Your humble servant will clean the mud off you now."
"Get off! Don't touch me! I am the Sage of Six Paths! How dare a lump of rotten sludge like you defile me!" Madara shook his legs desperately, trying to kick Black Zetsu off. His leg bones creaked painfully. The bloody holes pierced by the suckers on Sen's vines hissed as the last glowing threads of chakra leaked out. He could not even