The stoic look on Itachi's face never wavered, his eyes locked on the newcomer. His energy was like no other he'd ever seen; it was slow, sluggish as it coursed through his body although he had it in abundance. It, however, was not chakra and had no color. Itachi could only classify it as simple energy, and deduced that this man was not a shinobi, but he was old.
"Lucky me." The statement honestly sounded more like a question than an actual statement. Itachi turned his head away, looking back at the sign before him. No, death's icy grip was closing in on him more and more every day. The fight with Sasuke was his end game. All he had to do was lure Orochimaru out, seal him, and then transfer the Amaterasu to Sasuke to keep Madara from telling him anything.
That had been his plan from the start. It'd taken him years of careful planning, and manipulation to see the end drawing near. So did he want to live? No. He was ready for his life to end, but he wanted his death to have meaning. Sasuke needed to return to Konaha a hero so the elders would forgive the Uchiha's of their past crimes.
His left eye narrowed, more pain shooting through him.
"Yes. I have a reason to live, but you will not touch me." He had no intentions of letting this old man trapped within a young man's body touch him. There were herbs, medicines he could take until he could figure a way to get through the barrier that kept him from his home. "Test City. Hm," he mused aloud, "it sounds as if someone has brought us here for their amusement."
Turning his head back to look at Elijah, he kept his gaze steady upon him. "You are not a shinobi, or human for that matter. What are you?" There was no fear in his question, Itachi was certain that if needed he could defeat him in battle regardless of his present condition. The fight, however, would probably kill him after the fact and Itachi wasn't about to let himself die in a place such as this.