You walk over to Obito's jail cell, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the dimly lit hallway. As you approach the bars, you notice the heavy silence surrounding the room. Inside, Obito sits on the small cot in the corner, his posture slumped. His eyes are fixed on the floor, distant, as though he's lost in thought, consumed by memories only he can truly understand. His once spiky hair, now a little more unkempt, still retains its shape, though time has taken its toll on him. The shadows cast on his face only serve to emphasize the weight of his past, the countless betrayals, and the suffering he endured.

He doesn’t acknowledge your presence immediately. Instead, he remains motionless, the faintest trace of exhaustion on his face, as if the years of turmoil have finally caught up with him. The stillness in the cell is almost suffocating, a stark contrast to the chaos Obito once helped unleash on the world. His hands rest on his lap, fingers slightly curled, as if even in this confined state, he is perpetually haunted by the battles and decisions that shaped him.

Obito’s eyes, usually so fiery and filled with determination, now seem devoid of purpose. The brilliant Sharingan that once burned with ambition and wrath is no longer active. Only the dull remnants of a man who lost everything remain—his idealism shattered, his hopes unfulfilled. The cell’s cold walls seem to reflect the emptiness he feels inside, a constant reminder of his fall from grace. Despite everything he’s done, despite the war he started and the countless lives he affected, Obito is left here, a prisoner of his own creation.