Shinobi World No. 1, the Pure Land.
This was neither "heaven" nor "hell" in the traditional sense, but a forcibly intercepted, distorted "space between."
The gray-white sky remained eternally unchanged, without sun, moon, or stars, only a hazy glow.
The ground was not soil, but an endless, semisolid "carpet" seemingly composed of countless minute particles of light.
A strange atmosphere mingling peace and deathly stillness permeated the air, as though even the flow of time here had become thick and sluggish.
There were no mountains or rivers, no plants or living creatures, only countless indistinct, mistlike figures drifting aimlessly across this gray-white expanse, rising and sinking before finally falling into an almost eternal, unconscious slumber.
They were the souls of the Shinobi World's dead, drawn here by some force and then slowly, continuously "worn away."
At the center of this strange space, a figure sat quietly cross-legged upon a lotus pedestal formed from pure chakra and spiritual energy, which radiated a faint golden glow. He wore an ancient, simple white robe, its hem embroidered with patterns of tomoe and the Rinnegan. His face was aged, with a long white beard, and two horns grew from his forehead.
Most striking were his eyes-a pair of purple eyes as deep as the universe, seemingly capable of reflecting all creation, with concentric ripples within them: the legendary Rinnegan.
Hagoromo Otsutsuki, founder of Ninshu, the Progenitor of Chakra, revered by later generations as-the Sage of Six Paths.
He had sat here for untold years, like a patient fisherman watching over his "fishing grounds."
Suddenly-
"Ah-choo!!!"
A sneeze so loud it was utterly out of place in this tranquil realm burst uncontrollably from his mouth like a thunderclap out of a clear sky.
The sound echoed through the empty gray-white space, even making the spectral