The next day, the yellow sand receded.
As the winds calmed, the people of Roran emerged from their underground shelters, their bags already packed from the night before. Without delay, they set out on their journey toward Sunagakure.
Along the way, ANBU from the Hidden Sand Village provided protection, with Pakura leading an advance team to ensure safe passage. With security in place, there was little to worry about.
By dusk, the last of Roran's citizens had departed. Only three remained in the vast, now-empty city: Queen, her young daughter Sara, and the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa.
Their reason for staying behind was simple—gold prospecting.
Neither the Sand Shinobi nor the people of Roran objected. Hidden Sand was in urgent need of funding, and for Roran, the gold mines were a lifeline. The sooner development began, the sooner support from the Hidden Sand Village would arrive.
In an open clearing on the city's eastern edge, Queen, Sara, and Kazekage Rasa rested. The surroundings were barren—low, single-story homes replaced the tall towers that once dominated Roran's heart.
Rasa glanced around, then commented, "It's said the dragon vein can only be accessed in the central towers. Is that true?"
Queen smiled faintly and shook her head. "You're well-informed, Kazekage. But that's just a superstition. The dragon vein flows beneath all of Roran—anyone here can connect to it. The sacrificial tower is used only for the sake of ceremony... a tradition passed down through generations."
"I see," Rasa nodded. "Then why forego the ceremony now?"
She didn't answer.
A sudden gust of wind cut through the air. Orochimaru appeared beside them, a smirk on his face. "I'll answer that one," he said. "What's about to happen is... volatile. That tower would be far too dangerous for this."
He turned to Queen and Sara. "Get ready. We begin shortly."
"I understand," Queen said, taking her daughter's hand. She looked at Rasa. "Is Kazekage-sama the 'guard' you arranged?"
She didn't know the exact nature of Orochimaru's dealings with Rasa, but her instincts told her they weren't truly allies. And given how seriously Orochimaru took this mission, Rasa seemed too... expendable for such a role.
"Partially," Orochimaru said cryptically. "Rasa's assistance is helpful—but the real protector is someone else. That's why I'm here now."
He formed a series of hand signs. "Summoning Jutsu!"
A burst of chakra split the air, and a swirl of white smoke erupted. Out stepped a tall man, laughing.
"Hahaha! Orochimaru, you actually called for me?"
Rasa's expression shifted when he recognized the man. "So that's who you trust," he murmured. "Jiraiya of the Sannin."
Jiraiya's grin widened. "Ah, the Kazekage! I should thank you—without your help, our Jinchūriki would've been in real danger."
Rasa replied modestly, "Konoha would have managed even without me."
"Alright, enough with the compliments," Orochimaru cut in. "We have important business."
Noticing Jiraiya's curious look, Orochimaru added, "I'll explain everything later."
"Hmph. Fine," Jiraiya said, turning toward Queen and Sara. "Are these the ones I'm supposed to protect? Do they really need it?"
Although neither gave off chakra, the abundance of natural energy surrounding them was greater than Jiraiya had expected.
"Some things can't be seen at a glance," Orochimaru said. "You'll understand soon enough."
With that, his body shimmered and vanished—his chakra clone, depleted, returning to recover.
Jiraiya scratched his head. "Well, don't worry," he said to the mother and daughter. "As long as I'm here, you're safe."
---
Meanwhile, in the center of Roran…
At the base of the sacrificial tower, a massive white serpent coiled.
"Tsk... what a location," Orochimaru mused. "The ancestors of Roran chose well."
While the dragon vein flowed throughout Roran, this was clearly its heart. It was no surprise this site held the greatest importance.
He clapped his hands.
Dust and sand surged like living creatures. Within moments, a massive, elegant ritual site had formed—towering dragon carvings and bestial statues surrounded him, air thick with ancient weight.
"It's a bit dramatic," Orochimaru muttered with amusement. "But I suppose it fits the occasion."
The sun had nearly vanished. In the fading glow, he began his preparations.
He unsealed a scroll, retrieving a stone cauldron and containers of glowing green nutrient fluid. This would be no ordinary transplant.
Unlike earlier experiments, his current body was massive—comparable in scale to a tailed beast. A standard injection would be inefficient and dangerous.
But Orochimaru had a new method.
"I'll borrow the Akimichi Clan's secret for this one," he muttered, lifting the cauldron and drinking.
The snake body bulged, abdomen swelling unnaturally. Then, with a wave-like motion, the mass shifted downward, thickening his tail. Snakes were, after all, made to devour.
Hour after hour, he drank, absorbing liquid chakra and nutrients.
When the final rays of sunlight vanished behind the dunes, Orochimaru raised his head, licking the residue from his lips.
"Ugh," came a voice nearby. "You look like a bloated beetle-larva."
It was the Lamp God, hovering nearby with a smirk. "Not flattering, I know."
"This is temporary," Orochimaru muttered. "Now... let's begin."
He drew a massive syringe from the scroll—a full-body dose of first-generation cell fusion. Without hesitation, he plunged it directly into his chest.
The dark green liquid surged into his heart.
His body seized. A strangled growl escaped his throat as the cells—ancient and ravenous—awoke.
From his chest, green veins spread rapidly, writhing beneath his scales. Twisting roots and sprouts pierced outward.
Natural energy from Roran, while useful to Orochimaru, fed the first-generation cells even more.
"Of course…" the Lamp God observed. "The dragon vein is closer to them than to you."
The Sacred Tree and the dragon vein were kin. The cells didn't see Orochimaru as their master—just as fertile ground.
As the mutation accelerated, Orochimaru's mind started to fragment. The Lamp God intervened.
Time froze. Orochimaru's thoughts returned.
"I underestimated them…" he admitted. "Even with Sage Mode, I couldn't keep control."
"You don't lack strength," the Lamp God said. "You're just outpaced by nature's hunger. Can you still suppress it?"
"Not directly." Orochimaru's eyes sharpened. "Help me boost my Senjutsu chakra. If I grow faster than the cells, I can overwhelm them."
The Lamp God obliged, drawing in natural energy.
Branches withered. The out-of-control cells, robbed of their energy, began to retreat.
"Last time, you could handle 30% Senjutsu," the Lamp God noted casually. "Shall we go for 60?"
"No—forty. No, thirty-five! Anymore and I'll turn to stone."
The Lamp God chuckled, but obliged.
When the chakra was ready, Orochimaru regained his body. Strength surged, but so did fatigue.
Still—this was his chance.
"The soil's dry. I can outgrow the weeds," he whispered, eyes flashing.
He screamed.
A pale-blue film spread over his body—his signature rebirth technique.
His fingernails sharpened like blades, slashing at his own face. Blood sprayed. The film tore.
He grinned through the pain.
He was shedding his skin.
_____________________
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