Main World.
Autumn, Konoha Year 24.
At a secluded underground base somewhere on the border of the Land of Fire.
Jigen sat in a stone chair, his body gaunt, his face pale, his eyes sunken, like a breathing corpse. He wore a black robe embroidered with red clouds-the emblem of Kara, though Kara had yet to be formally established. He was merely sketching out a blueprint for the future in his mind.
Several people in black uniforms knelt before him. Their faces were expressionless, their eyes filled with nothing but fear. They were subordinates Jigen had only recently subdued-a few wandering ninja of considerable strength, yet they did not even dare raise their heads before him.
"My lord, the task you assigned us is complete." One subordinate kept his head lowered, his voice trembling. "Not one member of that small ninja clan was spared. Their scrolls, books, and ninja tools are all here."
Jigen said nothing. His gaze fell on the pile of scrolls on the table. There were not many, only a dozen or so. What could a small ninja clan possibly have worth taking? But he did not care. What mattered was whether they contained what he wanted.
He picked up a scroll and unrolled it. His gaze moved slowly across the paper. Then he put it down. He picked up another. Put it down again.
Scroll after scroll.
Until the sixth.
His eyes lit up.
"Natural energy... Sage Mode..." he murmured. "Only fragments, but... enough."
He set down the scroll and leaned back in his chair. His body was very weak. Jigen's body was too frail to withstand much of his power. He needed a stronger body, greater power, and more time. He had time. Time was the one thing members of the Ōtsutsuki Clan never lacked.