The city at night was almost calming to Madara as he walked the streets. Cars sped by honking and weaving in and out of traffic. Women of the night showed off on their corners or provocatively leaning into a high-end car to make a deal. A set of thieves held up a corner store wearing ski masks and waving guns about as they raided the cash register. A car screeched as it careened into a street lamp. The drunk driver stumbled out, only to throw up.
Madara stretched, rolling his shoulders. He was back. Nothing would stop him this time.
Madara (c) Kishimoto
Indestructible (c) Disturbed