Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
Heavy, powerful heartbeats came from the coffin, one after another. They grew faster and steadier, carrying a rekindled vitality that made even the surrounding air tremble faintly in time with them.
Snap.
A withered hand reached over the edge of the coffin, its five fingers gripping the rim tightly. The knuckles clicked faintly under the strain.
The skin of that hand was covered in dark brown age spots and crisscrossing wrinkles, like parched, cracked earth. Its nails had a dull gray cast.
But in the very next breath, those wrinkles began to smooth out.
Starting at the fingertips, a thin sheen spread over the dry, peeling skin, like earth soaked by spring rain.
Those dark brown spots faded, shrank, and vanished at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The skin gradually shifted from a lifeless brown to a healthy flesh tone, its elasticity returning from deep within.
The skin stretched tight against the bones began to fill out again. The outlines of blood vessels became clearly visible beneath it, and signs of flowing blood spread along the channels.
That body, so old it had nearly rotted away, slowly sat upright in the coffin. The rise and fall of its chest grew steady and strong, and every inch of skin regained its vitality.
His graying hair rapidly darkened from the roots. Luster returned to the brittle strands as they changed from silver-white to gray, then deep black.
Within a few breaths, it had become a thick mane of jet-black, waist-length hair, spilling across the inside of the coffin.
Uchiha Madara slowly sat up.
His eyes opened, revealing an ordinary pair of Three-Tomoe Sharingan. Three tomoe slowly revolved in each scarlet iris, carrying the haziness of someone just awakened.
"At last, this day has come."
Madara tilted his