The Next Morning
The clouds twisted and shifted overhead, swept along by strong desert winds. Today, Sunagakure basked in clear skies and golden sunlight.
Orochimaru didn't linger long—his brief stop here was only to finalize the aftermath of the Roran incident. He handed over half of the agreed funds to Kazekage Rasa and left the remaining half with Queen Saira of Roran.
As for the physical enhancement surgeries he promised the Sand ninjas, Orochimaru had no intention of performing them himself. Instead, he planned to transfer the techniques and resources to Konohagakure.
Plans often fail to keep up with change. Orochimaru hadn't expected the recent transformation that brought him so close to immortality—he had effectively placed one foot across the threshold. Now, what mattered to him wasn't money but rare resources, things that couldn't be bought even from Ryūchi Cave or the Shikkotsu Forest.
That said, he hadn't become arrogant enough to ignore worldly power—at least not yet. But for now, the current shinobi world held little of value for him.
For the time being, he chose a conservative approach: for instance, granting protection to the displaced Roran people.
A simple statement of support could have significant impact—especially with Kazekage Rasa present. It made the terms of their agreement unambiguous and ensured there would be no deliberate delays or betrayal.
"You may now stay in Sunagakure without fear," Orochimaru said, turning to Saira and her daughter. "And if you wish to become shinobi…"
He cast a glance at Rasa and smiled, "I doubt Sunagakure would turn you away."
Rasa nodded and spoke formally. "If the people of Roran wish to join us, they are welcome. The ninja academy will always be open to them."
His words were generous, but also practical. Rasa knew the real golden age of ninja training had passed. Most Roran men wouldn't qualify, but their children—raised within the system—could be molded into loyal shinobi within one or two generations.
"Thank you, Lord Orochimaru, Lord Kazekage," Saira said with deep sincerity. "For giving my people a future."
Now that she'd stepped into the dangerous world beyond Roran's peaceful isolation, Saira understood clearly: strength was the only path to survival. The dragon vein, once Roran's greatest asset, was gone. That left them exposed and without leverage.
Frankly, she'd expected Orochimaru to abandon the deal—but he hadn't. That, in itself, earned her respect and caution.
Orochimaru gave her a faint smile. The money meant little to him now, but to Sunagakure, it was a lifeline. Besides, both the Sand and the Roran people had potential—especially those like Saira and her daughter, who had lived their lives bathed in natural energy. With time, they might produce some useful talent.
"Well then, my business here is done," Orochimaru said.
And with that, he soared into the sky, disappearing into the clouds.
A warm wind stirred the dust at their feet. After a quiet pause, Rasa chuckled softly. "Some people," he said, "are like those clouds above—impossible to reach. Try too hard, and you'll only exhaust yourself."
"Lord Kazekage," Saira replied calmly, "There is no more 'Queen of Roran.' Just call me Saira."
She continued, "We are part of your village now. As long as Sunagakure treats my people fairly, I see no reason to keep outside ties."
The message was clear: if the village failed her people, she would not hesitate to invoke the agreement with Orochimaru.
"…Of course," Rasa said quickly. "Kazekage does not abandon his own."
His expression sobered. The boundaries had been drawn. He would not test them again.
"But Saira," Rasa added, his gaze shifting toward her daughter, "you may be level-headed, but not everyone is. Some hearts are more easily moved."
Following his eyes, Saira turned to her daughter staring into the sky after Orochimaru. She sighed quietly.
"She'll learn," Saiba murmured. "Time may not teach her—but responsibility will."
---
Amegakure — Inside the Black Spire
In the tower's quiet interior, red-haired Nagato sat with eyes closed as Kabuto Yakushi conducted a routine examination.
Since undergoing two intense surgeries, Nagato's trust in Kabuto had deepened. Although not as close as he was to Konan, Kabuto was now a core figure within the Akatsuki Organization.
Konan hovered nearby, watching intently. No matter how busy she was, she always made time for Nagato's checkups.
"How is his condition?" she asked.
Kabuto adjusted his glasses, eyes reflecting his surprise.
"The combination of Uzumaki blood and Hashirama's cells is potent. His recovery is progressing even faster than we expected."
Privately, Kabuto marveled—Orochimaru had tried to cripple Nagato permanently, but his body had already recovered beyond expectation.
"…Perhaps Lord Orochimaru underestimated the synergy of Uzumaki and Senju genetics," Kabuto thought. "Should I poison him again…?"
He dismissed the idea immediately. Too risky. With no more surgical distractions, Nagato's instincts would catch any attempt at sabotage.
Instead, Kabuto took a gentler approach.
"Your body's recovered remarkably well," he told Nagato, "but after being bedridden so long, you'll need rehabilitation—starting tomorrow."
Nagato opened his eyes. Even restrained, his presence was overwhelming. Kabuto forced himself to continue speaking.
"You're strong—strong enough to overpower your body's instincts. That's the problem. Your bones and muscles need to be rebuilt properly, or even small imbalances could hinder you."
He explained further, comparing it to a runner using the wrong posture: Nagato could still outrun anyone, but others might copy the wrong technique and hurt themselves.
"So we begin slow: walking, sitting, combat drills. I'll help retrain your body."
To Kabuto, it was a necessary delay—one that bought Orochimaru more time. If Nagato ever learned that Orochimaru's rebirth came at the cost of this delay, he wouldn't stand by.
But right now, Nagato believed he just needed time to reclaim his power and crush Orochimaru.
That false belief was enough.
Just then, Nagato's expression changed. He looked sharply toward the east—toward Konoha.
"…Impossible," he muttered, eyes wide. "This is… impossible…"
---
Eastern Forests Near Konoha
From high above, the forest resembled a green ocean. But the scars of battle from over a month ago were still visible—trees flattened, stone shattered into powder.
Djinn floated in the air beside Orochimaru, looking down at the massive, cracked boulder below.
"Earth Gravitational Seal—'Chibaku Tensei'," he said. "The strongest sealing technique in the ninja world. And yet… it's been undone without the Rinnegan."
Orochimaru didn't answer. He stepped toward the cracked seal and called out.
"Still alive? Then come out."
The stone crumbled. Dust swirled. The seal had long since lost its power—without the Rinnegan's chakra, it was just compressed rock.
A figure rose slowly from the debris.
The one sealed within had not decayed. His chakra was weak, his presence diminished—but he was whole.
"…You succeeded with the Hashirama cell transplant?" the original Orochimaru asked.
The second Orochimaru—the one previously sealed—grinned.
"Not just that. I've gone one step further."
The two locked eyes, both wearing the same face.
"Enough," said Djinn, appearing between them. "You're both ancient snake spirits—do you really want to fight your own shadow?"
The two Orochimaru halves—different in soul, yet identical in ambition—paused.
The sealed one grinned, "So… what do you need from me?"
His voice held no resentment. Only curiosity.
This was, after all, his greatest dream standing before him—made real.
He would not be the one to destroy it.
_____________________
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