Konohagakure thrummed with anticipation, its streets adorned with banners and crowded with spectators as the Chunin Exams' final stage loomed. A month had passed since the preliminaries, a blur of training and scheming that had sharpened my resolve. I stood on the edge of Training Ground Three, my hood low over my four eyes—a trait-born feature I guarded closely—my body a towering six-foot-plus fortress of chakra-enhanced muscle, sculpted to channel the dominance of Sukuna from Jujutsu Kaisen. My modifications pulsed with power: a second heart amplified my chakra flow; expanded lungs fueled relentless endurance. My goals—power, control, freedom—burned like a beacon, guiding my every move. The Chunin Exams were a proving ground, a chance to showcase my skills—Dismantle, Cleave, Mirror Mirage Technique, genjutsu, and medical ninjutsu—while advancing my dual plans: joining Sasuke's defection to Orochimaru for Snake Sage Mode's serpentine power and securing Tsunade's mentorship for her Yin Seal and medical expertise. The preliminaries had drawn Konoha's eyes—Hiruzen, Danzo, Kakashi—but I'd use the finals' chaos to mask my true strength, playing the game like a Baldur's Gate campaign where every choice shaped the endgame.
The Forest of Death had tested Team Seven's mettle, and Orochimaru's Curse Seal on Sasuke was a ticking clock. His offer to me—power through defection—echoed in my mind, promising Snake Sage Mode's venomous chakra, agility, and regeneration. Tsunade, meanwhile, had begun to take me seriously, her gruff approval a step toward unlocking her Yin Seal's chakra reserves and deepening my medical ninjutsu. The finals were my next stage, a chance to prove myself to both while navigating the growing tension of Sasuke's ambition and Konoha's scrutiny.
The month of preparation was relentless. Kakashi trained us hard, pushing teamwork but focusing on individual growth. Naruto vanished with Jiraiya, chasing some secret technique, while Sasuke honed his Sharingan, his Curse Seal flaring in private moments. I trained alone, my gamer instincts from Warhammer 40,000 treating the exams like a boss rush—each opponent a puzzle to solve. My opponent in the finals was Neji Hyuga, a prodigy whose Byakugan and Gentle Fist could cripple chakra networks. Beating him would require strategy, not raw power, and I relished the challenge.
I refined my techniques in secret, pushing my Mirror Mirage Technique to summon ten clones, their illusions so lifelike they fooled a pack of foxes, their footsteps and gestures—twitching hands, shifting stances—mimicking me perfectly. My shadow genjutsu, inspired by Shikamaru, now held a boar for minutes, its body rigid under my chakra's weight. A confusion genjutsu, drawn from Ino, disoriented a hawk, sending it spiraling. Dismantle sliced through stone with surgical precision, Cleave shattered it with a touch. My medical ninjutsu advanced—I could regenerate muscle and bone in seconds, a skill that would pair with Snake Sage Mode's healing.
Snake Sage Mode was my obsession. Stolen scrolls and black-market whispers painted a vivid picture: practitioners gained viper-like reflexes, their chakra infused with venom that corroded defenses. Regeneration let them shed wounds like snakeskin, and their bodies twisted with unnatural flexibility. I practiced sensing natural energy, sitting in the forest at dawn, feeling its pulse beneath the earth. My modified body—second heart, expanded lungs—handled the strain, my chakra control keeping the energy balanced. I couldn't fully activate sage mode without the Ryuchi Cave, but I mimicked its effects, infusing a kunai with stinging chakra that sizzled against a tree. The mode would amplify my techniques, making Dismantle a venomous storm, Cleave a biting strike, and my genjutsu hypnotic like a serpent's gaze.
Tsunade's mentorship was progressing. I spent mornings at the hospital, assisting with surgeries and earning her grudging respect. She taught me advanced chakra control, showing me how to channel energy to specific nerves for precise healing. "You've got talent, kid," she said one day, her Yin Seal glowing faintly. "But talent's nothing without purpose. Why do you want this?"
"To master myself," I said, a half-truth. "To push my limits."
She snorted but didn't push. I practiced her Yin Seal in secret, channeling chakra to my forehead until a diamond pattern held for a minute, storing a trickle of energy. It was unstable, but progress. Her medical techniques let me refine my modifications, stabilizing my second heart under intense chakra flow and strengthening my lungs to handle sage-level exertion.
Sasuke's defection was closer than ever. Late one night, after a sparring session, he cornered me. "It's happening," he whispered, his Curse Seal pulsing faintly. "Orochimaru's sending his Sound Four. You still in?"
"Count me," I said, my voice steady. "But I'm not your shadow, Uchiha. I'm after my own power."
He nodded, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. Snake Sage Mode was my prize, its power a key to my goals. Orochimaru was a dangerous ally, but I'd use him like a Baldur's Gate faction—join, learn, then break away when the time came.
The finals arrived, the arena packed with spectators, the Hokage, and foreign leaders. My match with Neji was third, giving me time to observe. Naruto's fight with Kiba was chaotic, his Shadow Clones and sheer will overwhelming the Inuzuka's speed. Sasuke's battle with Gaara, the Sand's jinchuriki, was intense, his Curse Seal flaring until Kakashi intervened, delaying the match. The crowd's roar was deafening, but I stayed focused, my four eyes hidden but scanning Neji as he warmed up, his Byakugan active.
The arena cleared, and Neji faced me, his stance calm but lethal. "You're strong, Archon," he said, his voice cold. "But fate decides this match. Your chakra points are mine."
I smirked, my towering frame casting a long shadow. "Fate's just a word, Hyuga. Let's see who writes this story."
The proctor signaled the start, and Neji lunged, his Gentle Fist aiming for my tenketsu. I dodged, my enhanced reflexes and agility letting me weave through his strikes. My second heart kept my chakra flowing, my lungs sustaining long bursts of speed. I wove a Mirror Mirage Technique, ten clones surrounding Neji, their illusions hypnotic. He countered with his Byakugan, seeing through them, but I'd planned for that, using a confusion genjutsu to flood his senses with flickering images. His strikes faltered, and I closed the distance, grazing his arm with Cleave, the contact-based technique leaving a shallow cut.
Neji spun, his Rotation repelling me, but I used Dismantle, its invisible blades slicing through his defense, nicking his shoulder. The crowd gasped, Hiruzen's gaze heavy. Neji fought back, his Eight Trigrams sealing my tenketsu, but my medical ninjutsu countered, reopening them with precise chakra bursts. I pushed, my towering frame intimidating, and landed a final Cleave, knocking him down without serious harm. He yielded, his eyes wide with grudging respect.
Tsunade met me after, her arms crossed. "That was surgical, kid. You're ready for more. Stick around, and I'll show you the real stuff."
I nodded, my pulse racing. The Yin Seal was within reach. Sasuke's defection was days away, Orochimaru's Sound Four lurking. The Chunin Exams had elevated me, but Konoha's leash—Hiruzen, Danzo, Kakashi—tightened. I was Archon, a gamer reborn, balancing two paths: Orochimaru's Snake Sage Mode and Tsunade's medical mastery. The finals were a triumph, but the real game was just beginning.