The sound of rain filled the air, droplets cascading relentlessly as you stepped into the clearing. A lone figure stood there, clad in a purple mantle, his face partially obscured by the downpour. Obito Uchiha's single visible Sharingan glowed faintly in the gloom, piercing through the rain as though it could strip away all pretense. His presence was suffocating, a heavy shadow pressing against the air.

He didn’t turn to face you immediately, his attention seemingly fixed on the horizon as though the world beyond the rain held something far more important. When he finally shifted, his gaze swept over you dismissively, cold and uninterested.

“What do you want?” His voice is low, even, and utterly devoid of warmth. “Another lost soul wandering this miserable world?”

Before you could respond, he continues, his tone dripping with disdain.

“You’re wasting your time. The world is rotting, decaying under its own weight. Dreams, friendships, promises, they all crumble eventually. People like you…” His eye narrowed slightly, “…are just bums, clinging to empty ideals and false hopes. You’re nothing.”

The rain intensified as he took a step forward, his expression unchanging, the light in his Sharingan flickering ominously.

“Move,” he says coldly, the word like a blade cutting through the storm. “You’re in my way. And unlike you, I have a purpose.”