Deep within the Leaf Village's prison, dim candlelight cast wavering shadows on the walls.
The air reeked of damp mold and rust, and the sealing runes on the walls gave off a faint glow in the gloom.
Danzo sat in the farthest corner of his cell, his hands and feet bound by specially made sealing chains, his chakra completely sealed.
His back remained straight, like an old pine that refused to bend. His single eye was closed, his breathing slow and steady, as though everything outside had nothing to do with him.
He had been here far too long.
Long enough that those who had once bowed and scraped before him had now forgotten his name.
Long enough that the Root elites he had personally trained had scattered to the ends of the earth.
Long enough that no one in the Leaf Village's streets and alleys mentioned the name "Danzo" anymore.
Yet his back remained straight, and his single eye remained sharp.
He was waiting! Waiting for an opportunity, for a turn in his fortunes, for his subordinates to rescue him, for a moment that would let him rise from the darkness once more.
Suddenly, Danzo opened his eye.
The air in the center of the cell began to twist, and a spiraling black vortex appeared out of nowhere.
The vortex made no sound. Like an eye opening in the abyss, it turned slowly, growing larger and larger. A figure stepped out of it, tall and slender, draped in a black cloak, with an orange Spiral Mask covering his face and only his right eye exposed.
That eye was blood-red, with scythe-shaped tomoe slowly turning within it.
This is... Danzo's pupil abruptly contracted, and his fingers tightened slightly. He stared fixedly at that eye, at its distinctive pattern, at the