Deep Underground – The Root Base
The air was cold and damp beneath Konoha. A pale, slender figure moved silently through the dim corridor. His footsteps made no sound, gliding like a ghost melting into the shadows.
Beneath his hood, his skin was almost unnaturally pale, and his golden, slit pupils glimmered faintly in the torchlight.
It was Orochimaru.
He reached the heavy stone door at the end of the passage and pushed it open. The hinges groaned in protest.
Inside, Danzo Shimura sat motionless behind a desk.
"Mission accomplished, Lord Danzo," Orochimaru said, his hoarse, magnetic voice echoing softly in the chamber, devoid of emotion.
Danzo didn't lift his gaze. "Speak."
"Yes." Orochimaru inclined his head slightly, his hood hiding his expression, leaving only a pale jawline and a faint, unsettling smile.
"Uzumaki Kushina is exactly as expected," he began, his tone calm and analytical, like reciting an experiment report. "She possesses a vast amount of chakra and extraordinary vitality. The perfect vessel for the Nine-Tails."
Danzo's expression didn't change. "Get to the point."
Orochimaru paused, then continued, "The boy—Sawada Hiroki—is stronger and more talented than I initially thought."
Danzo gave a small nod.
But Orochimaru's next words made him frown.
"Still, that's all he is. A talented child, yes—but ordinary. His bloodline power remains undeveloped. He only used basic clone and substitution techniques, trying to defeat me the same way he did Jiraiya. Competent, but far from remarkable. Certainly not a replacement for an Uchiha."
Danzo's fingers began to tap softly on the desk. He didn't interrupt, but his sharp gaze lingered on Orochimaru. Something about his tone was off. Orochimaru was hiding something—he never spoke this cautiously.
"I tested him with illusions," Orochimaru continued. "At first, he resisted surprisingly well, but later… his responses weakened. Under high-level illusions, his resistance almost vanished, and he began using strange, unorthodox methods."
"What was the result?" Danzo asked flatly.
Orochimaru smiled faintly. "He failed to dispel the illusion properly. He relied solely on his bloodline limit… and ended up frozen in place."
A long silence followed. Only the faint crackle of torches and the slow drip of water echoed through the chamber.
Danzo studied Orochimaru's face. Orochimaru met his gaze, unflinching.
Neither spoke.
Finally, Danzo looked away, turning his back to the younger man.
"So," he asked, "did he pass or not?"
"…I suppose so," Orochimaru replied quietly.
Danzo's lips twitched in irritation. "Suppose? What kind of answer is that? Either he passed or he didn't."
He turned sharply, his single visible eye glinting like a blade. "You're holding back, Orochimaru. Don't make it so obvious."
"Everyone has their own ambitions. That's why Root exists—to turn them into strength."
Danzo's voice dropped, cold and deliberate. "Tell me, Orochimaru… are you planning to betray Konoha?"
Orochimaru's smile widened slightly. "Of course not." His tongue brushed his lips. "Why would I betray my birthplace?"
Danzo nodded, expression unreadable. "Good. Your curiosity and your research—those are your own affairs. I grant you authority, I give you resources, and I even overlook… certain excesses."
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "I don't care if this boy's potential amazes you, or if he defies my expectations. I only care about one thing."
"Turn him into a weapon. A blade—sharp, unbreakable, and loyal."
"As long as he serves Konoha until his last breath, he will be a fine tool."
Orochimaru bowed deeply, his hood casting his face into darkness. His voice was soft and submissive.
"As you wish, Lord Danzo."
Then, like a shadow dissolving into smoke, Orochimaru vanished from the chamber.
Danzo remained still, staring at the spot where he'd stood.
This was the first time Orochimaru had ever defied him.
Still, Danzo wasn't alarmed. Orochimaru had been trained to succeed him—his rebellion, for now, could be tolerated.
Until now, Danzo had believed that Hiroki's bloodline—his ability to read and replicate memories—was his only strategic value.
But perhaps… there was more to it.
What kind of power could make Orochimaru defy his orders so openly?
Danzo couldn't imagine it.
After a long silence, one thought came to him—his old teacher, the Second Hokage.
Perhaps that level of talent only appeared once in a generation.
Meanwhile, Hiroki finally returned to his small cabin.
The golden glow of the sunset streamed through the window lattice, stretching long shadows across the wooden floor.
He exhaled deeply, releasing the tension and fatigue from Orochimaru's "assessment." Kushina had run off abruptly, but he didn't dwell on it. Understanding children's emotions was never easy.
At least, since the Kumogakure kidnapping incident, there hadn't been any news of her going missing again.
As his body relaxed, a pleasant heaviness spread through his limbs.
He pushed open the inner door, ready to pour himself a drink before reviewing the day's "data battle" with Orochimaru. It had been the closest thing to writing code under combat pressure—a rare, almost nostalgic experience.
He was already thinking through several key observations from the fight—especially the "forced connection" that had formed between them. It might hold the clue he hadn't yet understood.
But as soon as he stepped into the room, he froze.
A chill ran down his spine, reaching the top of his head.
There, standing in front of his desk, was a tall, pale figure smiling faintly—playing idly with a large white rat in his hands.
Orochimaru.