Main World.
Year 30 of Konoha, spring.
The wall of water had receded, but lingering moisture still filled the air. Broken ancient trees, upturned soil, and shattered fragments of gold dust covered the entire clearing. Hanzō stood in the center of the ruins, his chain sickle hanging at his side. The film of water had thinned to near transparency, like a layer of moonlight about to fade.
His breathing was heavy. It had been a long time since he had panted like this-the last time had been against Hashirama Senju's Wood Release clone. But that had been many years ago. He had thought no one else would ever push him this far in his lifetime. Today, four had appeared, their ages adding up to just thirty-one.
The four children spread out opposite him in a somewhat irregular semicircle. Most of Ryukōshi's holy light had dimmed. Toyotomi Jinsyokuin's emerald green chakra still circulated, but noticeably more slowly than before. Most of Toyotomi Shining Sand's Gold Dust Armor had shattered, exposing skin covered in abrasions beneath it. Chengkong stood at the very back, his right hand still swollen. The bloody mark on his face had scabbed over, a thin reddish-brown line across his cheekbone.
Hanzō's gaze swept over the four of them. He was confirming something, and now he had finished.
He spoke, his voice hoarse but steady.
"Brats, give me your names."
Ryukōshi's wings of light folded in slightly. He glanced at Hanzō, then spoke after a moment's silence. "Toyotomi Ryukōshi."
"Toyotomi Jinsyokuin."
"Toyotomi Shining Sand."
Chengkong did not speak. He simply stood there, watching Hanzō, his silver-white Sharingan already deactivated and his eyes returned to their ordinary black. Only after a few breaths did he utter his name. "Chengkong."
Hanzō nodded. He raised his head and looked toward the distant