Around the raised platform, eleven ninjas drew closer to the statue, their faces alight with fervent smiles.
By their attire, nine were Mist Village assassins, two were Konoha genin.
Their eyes burned with obsession, pupils reflecting the grotesque figure atop the platform.
Beside it stood a man in the garb of a Mist jōnin, his expression nearer to sanity but unable to mask the zeal in his gaze.
They clustered around the statue as if it were a key to their deepest desires.
Or perhaps it was their deepest desire.
Yet the statue's form was far from beautiful, it was monstrous effigy.
Vaguely humanoid, it bore an octopus-like head, writhing with countless tentacles, and bat-like wings, narrow and malformed, sprouting from its back.
Its bloated, greenish bulk seemed born from primordial darkness, a colossus striding across ancient earth.
Yet this grotesque figure enthralled them all.
"Kilei."
"Kilei."
"Kilei."
The newly enthralled Mist ninjas could only mutter incoherent chants.
But the Mist renegade, tempered by two months of devotion, intoned clearer praises.
"Great Cthulhu! Slumbering God! Lord of R'lyeh!"
"He will reshape our forms, grant us eternal life, and lead us into the boundless ocean."
"In that grand, dreamlike palace beneath the sea, our fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers dance. We become His most loyal servants."
"We shall lie with our ancestors in R'lyeh's stone halls, guarded by Great Cthulhu's spells until the stars align. Then, we shall return in glory!"
"In the eternal mansion of R'lyeh, Great Cthulhu awaits us in dreams!"
As the renegade chanted, the Mist ninjas' hair began to fall, drifting like autumn leaves.
Their skin paled rapidly, viscous slime oozing from their wrists.
Their faces twisted with a tumult of emotions—fervor, worship, fear, exhilaration.
Encountering such an ancient, potent presence, even a mere whisper of its will stripped them of self, leaving them lost in a maelstrom of feeling.
Their faces contorted, yet their bodies moved in unison.
A unified trembling.
Through the eyes of his spiders, Orimaru watched the cave's unfolding horror.
He had acquired four Cthulhu statues, born from the forbidden book's corruption, but this one was unique.
He had imbued it with a fragment of Cthulhu's essence—a projection of the Slumbering God's will.
This enchantment, woven through his pact with Unknown Oldest God, allowed the statue to forge a psychic bond with those who gazed upon it, drawing forth waves of terror that fed Orimaru's strength.
Even with eyes closed, its whispers coul still haunted the mind.
Ordinary Cthulhu statues exerted a subtle influence, their terror gradual. But this one, infused with Cthulhu's projection, unleashed a torrent of dread.
Orimaru reaped the fear it sowed.
A surge of power coursed through him, drawn from the cave's occupants.
From Asayama Jūryō, a flood of terror.
From Kakutani Hatto, a pulse of dread.
From Kurisawa Naomaru, a shiver of awe.
From Hisara Kamaba, a torrent of fear.
From Aono Unkan, a quiver of unease.
From Hatake Kakashi, a faint tremor.
Each ninja's resilience to the unspeakable varied, but the statue's enchantment drew forth a deluge of terror, swelling Orimaru's power.
Combined with prior gains, he had recouped the cost of crafting this statue and its enchantment. Every additional spark of fear was pure gain.
The statue's effect was strongest at first contact, its terror waning over time to a mere trickle.
The Mist renegade, Kisame Magake, now yielded only a faint echo of fear daily, unlike the fresh dread of the others.
Three months ago, Orimaru had placed this statue in the Land of Water, guided by the forbidden book's whispers.
He chose the Land of Water for two reasons.
First, its distance ensured he wouldn't be caught in the chaos it unleashed, severing any trail back to him. The Mist Village, shrouded in its Blood Mist era, was isolated, its secrets kept within. Even if they found the statue, they wouldn't share it with other nations.
Second, a whim of symmetry. The Cthulhu, was tied to water, therefore it belonged in the Land of Water.
As expected, the statue sparked chaos, drawing Mist ninjas to investigate without public outcry.
But Orimaru hadn't accounted for the renegade's betrayal.
Kisame Magake—likely kin to the notorious Kisame Hoshigaki, perhaps a father or uncle—slew his comrades and fled to the Land of Fire with the statue.
This was beyond Orimaru's foresight.
The statue's presence in the Land of Fire sowed confusion, with most ninjas mistaking its influence for potent genjutsu.
Genjutsu pointed to the Uchiha clan.
If this incident deepened the rift between the Uchiha and Konoha, their rebellion could erupt early.
An early Uchiha rebellion would overwhelm Itachi Uchiha, who was too young to enact the clan's downfall.
Without someone to shoulder that burden, the Uchiha's revolt would engulf the village—and Orimaru, a fledgling ninja barely versed in the Three Basic Techniques, alongside his chūnin brother Hayate, unprotected by parents.
They would likely perish in the clash.
The thought of this altered world thread chilled him.
What seemed a minor event in the cave now rippled toward a catastrophic shift in fate.
This was the first misstep in the world's thread, sparked by Orimaru's arrival in the ninja world.
(End of Chapter)