Fūma Kojirō stood on the branches of a dead tree, his chest heaving and his palms slick with cold sweat.
His eyes stayed fixed on the golden sand. Once he was certain no one else would emerge alive, he made no attempt to fight back or call out. He turned and launched himself from the branch, tracing a short arc over the Wasteland before speeding into the distance.
He fled for his life.
About ten feet beneath the golden sand, Kakuzu's body lay wrapped in grains of Gold Dust.
He sensed the Chakra outside the sand contracting and circling back, as though someone were drawing it toward a single point.
The flow was extraordinarily precise, controlled down to the last grain.
Then the pressure around him began to ease. It did not feel as though an outside force had broken the sand apart. Instead, someone was stripping away the layers around him from the outside.
Grains slid away from above his head. First, a sliver of daylight reached his eyes. Then the pressure on his shoulders lifted, and he pulled his hands free.
He flexed his wrists but did not rush to get up. He merely turned his head and looked beside him.
Sasori's Hiruko was also emerging from the sand.
Golden grains slid from the gaps in the puppet's shell. Its eight mechanical legs folded and extended in turn, shaking the last few grains from their joints. The two lights in its eyeholes flashed briefly, then dimmed.
The two rose from the sand one after the other. Standing on the golden surface, now smooth again, they realized at the same time that the seals on their Chakra had been lifted.
Clearly, they had the Gold Dust to thank.
Kakuzu could not help asking quietly, "Do you think the Fourth