Shinobi World No. 1.
Southern Army Headquarters, underground chamber.
The air was thick with the smell of stale earth and the lingering traces of some indescribable energy.
The lone lamp still burned on the desk, its dim yellow glow stretching Danzo's shadow into a twisted, sinister shape.
He had been sitting there for a long time.
Long enough for two candles to be replaced, long enough for the sky outside to turn from pitch-black to gray, then from gray to dusky yellow.
He was waiting.
Waiting for Tobirama Senju to wake up.
Ever since that nightmare encounter in the Land of Rain, Tobirama Senju's reanimated body had fallen dormant.
That blow from the Evil God had nearly erased his existence at its very root.
Although the immortality of Impure World Reincarnation had barely kept his body intact, his consciousness was like a stone sunk into the deep sea, unable to surface for a long time.
Orochimaru had said the repairs would take time.
But today, Orochimaru had sent word.
Soon.
That single word lodged like a thorn in Danzo's chest.
He remembered the Evil God saying "synthetic meat," and the look Tobirama Senju had given him before being struck-cold, sharp, and scrutinizing enough to send chills down his spine.
That old bastard must have heard it.
With Tobirama Senju's intelligence and suspicious nature, he would definitely ask questions.
Danzo slowly rubbed his fingers along his cane, his knuckles white.
"Synthetic meat..."
He repeated the phrase under his breath, his lips curling into a bitter, almost self-mocking smile.
The taste of Senju and Uchiha.
That Evil God had seen through the secrets inside his body at a glance.
How many years had he spent, how much effort had he poured into integrating those powers into his body? Those experiments, those sacrifices,