"Who are you?" Hashirama demanded, rising quickly from the bed. Despite the urgency of the situation, he forced himself to remain cautious and measured in his actions. This intruder had appeared out of nowhere, and he could just as easily vanish back into the shadows.
The room was fortified with Mito's fuinjutsu techniques, designed to deter intruders, and only someone of exceptional skill, like Madara, would stand a chance of breaching its defenses and escaping unscathed. Hashirama's instincts screamed that this newcomer was not foolish enough to charge in without a plan.
"Who I am isn't important," the man replied smoothly, a sinister smile curling his lips. "What I'm going to do to your lovely wife is what you should be worried about." He relished the effect his words had on Hashirama, as if savoring the tension in the air. With a flick of his fingers, the shadows that enveloped him dissipated, unveiling him in full—like a god descending among mortals.
He was an imposing figure, standing nearly eight feet tall, with a bulky, muscular body that strained against the dark, flowing robes he wore. His long black hair cascaded down his back, contrasting starkly with the pa...
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