Within the terrarium, a palm-sized black spider wove an intricate web, its silken threads spanning the container's farthest reaches.
Bathed in moonlight, Tsukikage Hayate could faintly discern the creature's unsettling form.
Its dark, hulking body bore thick limbs, their fine bristles glinting silver in the pale glow. Structurally, it resembled an ordinary spider, yet its size was unnaturally large.
What chilled Hayate most was its face.
Crouched upon its web, the jet-black creature bore a grotesque, human-like visage, its features so distorted that its expression eluded comprehension.
Anger? Confusion? A silent accusation?
Hayate felt it could be all three.
Abruptly, the spider shifted its agile limbs, turning that hideous face toward him.
In an instant, his mind went blank.
Ninja discipline forced him to tear his gaze away, avoiding the uncanny orbs where human eyes should be.
The last time he'd met that gaze, Hayate's consciousness had slipped into an abyss, his soul tugged toward a void beyond understanding.
Only Orimaru's return from playing outside had broken the trance.
Even that fleeting moment left Hayate drenched in cold sweat, his collar soaked.
He wasn't afraid of spiders—not ordinary ones. But this creature made his body tremble uncontrollably, a primal fear seizing his heart.
With his learned lesson, Hayate turned away, refusing to glance at the terrarium again.
A monstrous spider.
That was all he could name it. His mind recoiled from imagining more.
This strangeness wasn't confined to the spider. At times, it surfaced in his younger brother, Orimaru.
Hayate had once caught Orimaru whispering to the creature.
True, the village's insect users, like the Aburame clan, could commune with their bugs to gather simple information—a skill honed from childhood.
But those exchanges were basic like is an intruder nearby? Is this area clear?
A bug's tiny mind couldn't fathom complex human dialogue.
Yet Hayate had seen Orimaru murmuring to the spider as if it were a confidant, receiving answers in return.
Though Hayate couldn't discern what passed between them but he knew Orimaru clearly grasped something.
Later, sensing his brother's watchful gaze, Orimaru ceased these unnatural exchanges. Still, Hayate struggled to accept this grotesque creature as his brother's companion.
Village children either kept cats or dogs and the most eccentric raised parasitic beetles, like the Aburame.
But a monstrous spider with a human-like face?
Pets in the village could become ninja partners, aiding in battle. What could this hideous creature do, other than terrify its foes?
Yet, after losing their parents and watching Orimaru battle death's grip, Hayate couldn't bring himself to take away his brother's sole companion.
If the spider offered Orimaru solace, a vessel for his unspoken thoughts, and caused no harm, Hayate would permit its presence.
Even if it filled him with endless dread.
Hayate slipped out quietly, the door clicking shut, leaving the room in utter stillness.
...
Listening to ensure no one remained, Orimaru, lying in bed, opened his eyes.
"He's gone."
Orimaru was accustomed to Hayate's nightly visits after his midnight training. His brother always checked on him.
He knew it stemmed from love, but it troubled him. Orimaru had to feign sleep each night to ensure Hayate left safely.
The last time he'd let his guard down, Hayate had entered unannounced and met the spider's gaze, nearly losing his life.
That spider was no mere creature. It was a fragment of Atlach-Nacha, the Spider God, an ancient entity from beyond the cosmos.
Orimaru's survival was no miracle. It was a pact.
A year ago as death had loomed over this body, frail from illness after the Nine-Tails' rampage.
In his original world—Earth—he had sought the truth behind his family's death, only to be branded a blasphemer by a shadowy cult.
Accused of breaking their sacred rules, he faced execution by fire.
As the ritual began, he recalled a forbidden book, one that should not exist. Its pages, etched with incomprehensible symbols and pulsed with malevolent will.
Desperate to live, he whispered a plea to the unknown, and someone or something answered.
In exchange for his life, Orimaru became its anchor in this new world, his soul touched by its corrupting essence.
The book's influence twisted his mind, granting him glimpses of forbidden knowledge and a bond with the Spider God's avatar—a palm-sized creature he named Little A.
This bond granted powers, like how he command over arachnids, vision through their eyes, and a trace of Atlach-Nacha's ancient aura.
It also bestowed two relics—grotesque statues of a tentacled deity whispering the name Cthulhu.
Born from the book's corruption, these idols could evoke terror in those who beheld them, their fear feeding Orimaru's strength.
The price was made. Original Orimaru has been devoured and mixed with his own.
With it Orimaru's innocence has been eroded, replaced by the intruder's maturity that unnerved even Hayate.
Little A grew with him, its size and power tied to his vitality. Once no larger than an ordinary spider, it now spanned his palm, its human-like face a constant reminder of the pact.
To Orimaru, Little A was a companion.
But to others, like Hayate, it was a harbinger of terror.
A single glance could make one tremble, a mortal's dread before an ancient, unfathomable presence.
Though he felt guilty for letting it frighten Hayate, Orimaru couldn't sever the bond. The Spider God's will was etched into his soul.
...
"I understand," Orimaru murmured.
Standing by the terrarium, he received a vision from Little A's countless eyes.
Someone was going near to one of his Cthulhu statues that he hid deep in the forest.
Orimaru had meant to sleep, but Hayate's visit left him restless.
He turned to the spider's vision to investigate.
Through the eyes of his arachnid allies, he saw four figures darting through the forest.
Their leader wore an animal mask, but it couldn't conceal his striking white hair.
(End of Chapter)