The White Between.
"Oh?"
A voice rang out.
Madara looked toward the voice.
In the space not far ahead, a being slowly came into focus.
There was no definite form, only a mass of light.
Deity.
Deity looked at Madara, and his calm voice sounded directly once more. "What brings you here? Did you die?"
Madara's consciousness fell silent for a moment. Then he slowly spoke. "More or less."
"Oh." Deity did not seem surprised, nor did his emotions fluctuate at all. He merely nodded.
Madara's gaze slowly swept across the pure white space.
Around Deity, countless tiny images began to appear against the endless white backdrop.
Children ran and laughed on the grass, lovers embraced and kissed beneath the setting sun, warriors fought and roared on battlefields, scholars grew gray poring over seas of books, sinners plotted in dark alleys, and good people offered helping hands amid wind and rain...
Joy, anger, sorrow, and delight; birth, aging, illness, and death; love, hatred, affection, and enmity; hope and despair; struggle and surrender...
Countless lives, countless fragments, played out silently in this pure white space like a revolving lantern.
"Are you watching everyone?"
"More or less." Deity's voice remained flat, as though he found the question meaningless.
"It's my only amusement, after all. Sometimes it's quite interesting, though most of the time it's boring."
He paused, his face seeming to turn toward Madara.
"But don't worry. I didn't watch you for long. Because, honestly, it was rather boring."
Deity's voice carried undisguised candor.
"Everything went too smoothly, didn't it?"
Madara remained silent.
Deity seemed to feel he had gone a little too far and added, "Oh, I suppose it wasn't entirely smooth. If it had been, you wouldn't have died.
"What happened afterward? Can you tell me? I'm a little curious."