One day.
Madara once again came alone to an abandoned industrial district on the far outskirts of Tokyo.
This had once been the site of a small chemical plant, later ordered to shut down over pollution problems.
The factory buildings and equipment had long since been cleared out, leaving only rusted steel frames, broken windows, and a faint, acrid smell in the air.
It was nearly midnight. There was no moon, only the distant city's light pollution casting a dim red glow across the low clouds.
Madara stood in the center of the most spacious factory building.
The concrete floor was cracked, unidentified industrial waste lay piled in the corners, and broken lampshades hung from the steel beams overhead like hollow eyes.
A figure knelt before him.
His eyes were closed, his breathing faint, his body rigid in an unnatural kneeling posture.
Who he was, what his name was, what he had done, what sort of life he had lived-none of that mattered.
To Madara, he was merely a vessel, a meaningless expendable.
"Well, then..."
Madara slowly raised his hands and pressed his palms together before his chest.
"Impure World Reincarnation."
Humm-!!!
Countless grayish-white, paper-like scraps materialized out of thin air, pouring from the cracks in the floor and from the void.
The scraps fluttered and circled in the air as though alive, then swarmed toward the unconscious man on the floor like sharks scenting blood!
Hiss, hiss, hiss-!!!
The instant the scraps touched the man's body, they covered him.
The man let out a pained groan in his unconscious state, his body convulsing violently.
The replacement process was quick.
The man's appearance began changing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
A few seconds later, the replacement was complete.
The one kneeling there was no longer that man.