Madara gave a light whimper, the last string of consciousness he held on slipping, able to at least see the smile for a fraction of second even as he felt a thick liquid slide down his cheek from his eye, too thick for tears.

tajima took a step back. Was he hearing all this right? A treaty? Peace? With the Senju? How dare he?
..but a village? Peace? This made no sense. This was impossible, this...

"How do you know the future?" This had to be it, right? The future he spoke of, however, who knew if his actions had not altered it?
This was a dream, right?