Main World.
Winter, year 27 of Konoha.
Mechanical Star, Mechanical City.
A month had passed since Ōtsutsuki Yandō's death. A month was enough for Mechanical Star to recover from the wounds of war. The craters blasted by missiles had been filled, the collapsed buildings rebuilt, and the bodies of fallen soldiers buried. Mechanical City had returned to its former order-white smoke rose from factory chimneys, church bells rang on schedule, and pedestrians hurried along the streets. But some changes could not be filled in, rebuilt, or buried.
Sasori stood atop the dome of the Mechanical God Cult's Main Hall, his deep-purple battle armor gleaming cold and hard in the winter sunlight, his two-meter-twenty frame like an iron tower. His gaze rested on the distant plains.
There, the earth had split-not from missile strikes, but "on its own." The earth's underlying veins were loosening, the geology was undergoing drastic changes, and the entire continent was trembling. Fissures emerged from underground, some as wide as canyons, others as fine as hairs. Deep within them, light flickered-not sunlight, not lamplight, but the light of "chakra." These were pure, highly concentrated chakra deposits, buried underground for tens of millions of years, never harvested by the Sage of Six Paths.
Tiegu stood behind Sasori, still wrapped in bandages. His left arm had been shattered during the encirclement and killing of Yanchuang. Though it had been reattached, he still could not exert force with it.
A fresh scar slashed diagonally across his face from forehead to jaw, torn open by Yanchuang's Myriad Images of the Heavy Prison. He did not care. Scars were a warrior's medals.
"Father, the earth's veins are still loosening. The geologists say it could continue for several years." Tiegu's voice was low.
"Then let it take several years." Sasori's voice was calm.