That was not meditation, not contemplation, not reflection.
That was... the death of the soul.
That was a state in which the mind voluntarily shut itself down to protect itself after enduring unbearable pain.
"Momoshiki Otsutsuki..." Ōtsutsuki Isshiki softly spoke the name, his voice carrying a tremor he could not quite suppress.
Momoshiki Otsutsuki's body moved slightly! Just once, and then there was no further response. He did not even raise his head toward the source of the voice, as though everything outside had ceased to have anything to do with him.
Ōtsutsuki Isshiki turned his gaze to the adjacent chamber.
Urashiki Otsutsuki.
He was a little better off than Momoshiki Otsutsuki! At least he was still sitting rather than curled up. But his condition was hardly any better.
Urashiki Otsutsuki's body was just as emaciated, just as covered in traces of various experiments. Beneath his white restraints, densely packed scars were faintly visible! Some were new, still bearing scabs that had not fully healed; others were old, already turned to dark red scar tissue.
His hair was shorter than Momoshiki Otsutsuki's, now plastered messily against his scalp, exposing a conspicuous scar behind his ear left by repeated tissue sampling. Dried blood marked the corner of his mouth, left when he had bitten through his lip! Perhaps it had been from pain, perhaps to stay conscious.
His eyes! Those eyes that had once been able to switch between the Byakugan and the Rinnegan! They were in their ordinary state now. His left eye was slightly narrowed, seemingly observing something; his right was completely shut, with a faint purple glow beneath the eyelid, possibly the remnants of Kāma energy struggling.
But what unsettled Ōtsutsuki Isshiki most was Urashiki Otsutsuki's reaction to seeing him.
As Ōtsutsuki Isshiki approached the chamber, Urashiki Otsutsuki's