Sasuke Uchiha Returns, Mystic Eyes of Death Perception

"Hashirama." Madara glanced at Hashirama. "You got here before me."

"You were one step too late," Hashirama said.

"It doesn't matter." Madara raised his head and looked at the Ōtsutsuki God, his Sharingan spinning. "The outcome will be the same either way."

He looked at the Ōtsutsuki God, a smile curling across his lips.

"I heard you killed all of my clansmen?"

The Ōtsutsuki God did not answer. It merely watched the sixth, seventh, and eighth cracks beyond this rift, the paper scraps pouring out from them, the souls taking shape.

It suddenly felt that perhaps it truly could not kill them all.

Naruto was dead, but he had left behind more than any living person ever could.

"I, Sasuke Uchiha, actually died..."

When Sasuke emerged from the Impure World Reincarnation rift, his face was as dark as the bottom of a pot.

Grayish-white paper scraps still clung to him. He disgustedly brushed at them, but they would not come off, so he simply stopped trying.

"What the hell... Wasn't I already dead? Why did someone dig me out of my grave?"

He lowered his head and looked at his hands. His body was made of paper, light and weightless, yet power he had never felt while alive surged within it.

Infinite chakra, like a well that would never run dry.

"By the way, that guy Naruto actually died. The Ōtsutsuki God really is formidable."

He looked up toward the distant battlefield. Hidan's fungal mist was spreading, while Orochimaru's snakes slithered about.

The Ōtsutsuki God stood in the void, everything reflected in its giant golden eyes. Its expression—if that face could even be said to have an expression—was as ugly as if it had stepped in dog shit.

"This lousy technique is pretty convenient. Injuries can even regenerate. Too bad