The Land of Rain, Amegakure.
Inside his laboratory, Orochimaru appeared to be deep in the middle of a research project. Judging by his expression, he seemed rather excited.
This was a rare sight.
Orochimaru juggled countless research projects and boasted no small number of successes, but he had always been a deeply clinical, composed man. Consequently, even when he occasionally achieved a breakthrough, the emotion of excitement rarely leaked onto his face.
Generally speaking, when an excited look did appear on his features, it meant he was working on a project of paramount importance, and had just achieved a monumental breakthrough.
It wasn't just Orochimaru whose expression betrayed a hint of excitement; Sasori of the Red Sand, who was currently assisting him in the lab, looked exactly the same.
The eyes of both men were locked dead onto a petri dish sitting on the experimental table before them.
The petri dish wasn't particularly large, roughly the size of a standard dining bowl.
Inside the dish sat a clump of irregular, somewhat coarsely textured, flesh-colored tissue of unknown origin. It looked as though it had been violently carved off someone's body with a sharp instrument.
It was a rather gruesome sight.
However, given that this irregular chunk of flesh was still multiplying at a speed visible to the naked eye, it had clearly not been severed from a person, but was rather growing organically.
When the irregular tissue expanded to the size of a human palm, its growth rate suddenly plummeted.
"Here it comes," Orochimaru said, a sharp gleam igniting in his eyes.
Sasori nodded heavily, refusing to avert his gaze from the petri dish for even a fraction of a second.
Right before their eyes, the chunk of flesh suddenly began to rapidly shrink. Within moments, it compressed from the size of a palm down to the size of a fist.
Then came a sharp pop, sounding like something bursting open.
Root-like sprouts of flesh rapidly grew from the tissue. Soon after, these sprouts twisted and contorted, giving rise to a black-and-white spherical solid.
The prototype of this solid appeared highly unstable, squirming and shifting as if it might collapse at any given moment.
At that exact instant, Orochimaru swiftly grabbed a test tube from the table. The liquid sloshing inside was a brilliant, vivid crimson.
"Success or failure hinges entirely on this one stroke," Sasori said, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a smirk.
"Diarmuid's blood has always been nothing short of miraculous. His body possesses an unparalleled level of compatibility, something that even the First Hokage, the God of Shinobi, could not match. In my eyes, he is the only true being of infinite possibilities. Success or failure does not hinge on a single stroke; rather, success is an absolute certainty!" Orochimaru declared, his tone utterly unwavering.
He had spent decades conducting research, particularly in the field of biology, where he could easily be considered a titan of the craft. Yet throughout all these years, he still maintained that Diarmuid's bodily tissue was an absolute treasure trove, brimming with limitless potential.
The moment the words left his mouth, Orochimaru wasted no time. He uncorked the test tube and promptly poured Diarmuid's blood into the petri dish.
The blood seeped in without encountering the slightest resistance. It was absorbed directly by the mutating mass of flesh at a rate visible to the naked eye.
The black-and-white spherical solid, which had been highly volatile and on the verge of collapsing just moments ago, finally stabilized under the nourishment of the blood.
It continued to transform, but the erratic, unstable sensation vanished. It was as though it were following a pre-programmed script, undergoing subtle, localized adjustments before naturally taking shape.
Orochimaru and Sasori stared intently at the sphere, their eyes burning with anticipation.
After roughly three to five minutes, the series of contortions, proliferations, and molding finally ground to a halt.
Simultaneously, a smile stretched across both Orochimaru and Sasori's faces.
By this point, the grotesque chunk of flesh from before was completely gone from the petri dish, and so was Diarmuid's blood.
Resting inside the dish instead was an eyeball that looked entirely indistinguishable from that of an ordinary human!
It featured a sclera that occupied most of its surface area, paired with a pitch-black pupil.
"Did we succeed?!" Sasori asked, turning his head to look up at Orochimaru.
It appeared they had successfully 'evolved' a clump of unknown cellular tissue into a fully functional eyeball.
"There is still one final step," Orochimaru chuckled.
With that, he reached out and fetched a scroll from the table. Unrolling it revealed a dense layout of sealing formulas.
Orochimaru's hands flew through a series of hand signs, casually releasing the sealing jutsu woven into the scroll.
What emerged from the broken seal was not a physical object, but a mass of eerie, deep-blue chakra.
Anyone familiar with Diarmuid would instantly recognize his unique signature within this energy, as this was a batch of Diarmuid's chakra that Orochimaru had specifically sealed away for research.
Using his own secret technique, Orochimaru manipulated the mass of chakra and immediately guided it to sink into the petri dish.
Under Orochimaru's meticulous control, the cluster of chakra slowly began to fuse with the eyeball in the dish. It served as a source of raw energy, fueling and charging the artificial eye.
The 'root system' of the eyeball seemed to spring to life, greedily gorging itself on the incoming chakra.
The mass of chakra in Orochimaru's hand quickly began to dwindle, yet the eyeball showed no signs of satisfaction.
"It's not enough, Sasori!" Orochimaru barked out.
Sasori didn't skip a beat. He deftly snatched another scroll from the table, breaking the seal with practiced fluidity to extract another reserve of Diarmuid's chakra.
Orochimaru quickly channeled the fresh batch of chakra into the dish.
The process repeated over and over. More and more unsealed scrolls piled up on the table, and the total volume of chakra poured into the petri dish grew staggering. By now, it was roughly equivalent to the combined chakra reserves of several standard Jonin.
"The amount of chakra required to activate this thing far exceeded my initial estimates. Fortunately, I came more than prepared," Orochimaru remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
He had originally assumed that injecting a fixed amount of Diarmuid's chakra would suffice, never expecting the device to act like a bottomless pit. Luckily, he had always been a cautious man and had made ample preparations.
Sasori's expression also carried a trace of awe. He clicked his tongue and said, "The Sharingan's reliance on chakra truly defies my expectations. Could it be that my previous failures to create a Kekkei Genkai Human Puppet with the Sharingan were simply due to my own lack of chakra? But I've never heard reports stating the Uchiha clan possessed such monstrous reserves of chakra."
"It's spiritual energy. The innate talent of the Uchiha clan lies in their ability to use spiritual energy as the catalyst to activate and wield the Sharingan. Therefore, their direct demand on raw chakra isn't exceptionally high. But you lack the biological lineage of the Uchiha, so naturally, you cannot replicate their efficiency..." Orochimaru explained calmly.
Sasori didn't pursue the topic any further, because his attention had been completely captured by the eye resting in the petri dish.
Following the infusion of yet another surge of chakra from Orochimaru, the eyeball, which had been doing nothing but greedily consuming energy without any outward alteration, finally began to quiver once more.
A crisp crack echoed, or rather, it was a sound that naturally manifested within the minds of Orochimaru and Sasori, as no actual noise was made.
But immediately following that sensation, the black-and-white eyeball underwent a sudden, drastic metamorphosis.
The black pupil dilated sharply before morphing into a single tomoe. Simultaneously, the surrounding white sclera rapidly bled into a vivid, crimson red.
"The Sharingan! It actually awakened?!" Sasori exclaimed, his tone tinged with shock.
Even though they had already deduced this exact outcome through their theoretical calculations prior to the experiment, witnessing it manifest in reality still felt utterly surreal to Sasori.
Deep down, he couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Orochimaru's sheer mastery over biology. While Sasori considered himself a formidable expert in his own right, compared to Orochimaru, that man was undeniably a step ahead.
Using Diarmuid's cellular tissue combined with the Sharingan cells of the Uchiha clan to manufacture a Sharingan completely out of thin air... this technology had actually, genuinely succeeded!
A concept that sounded completely far-fetched had now become concrete reality!
A fanatical fervor blazed within Orochimaru's eyes. He snapped on a pair of surgical gloves, meticulously retrieved the Sharingan from the petri dish, and brought it up to eye level, inspecting it with absolute precision.
Even though it was nothing more than the most basic, single-tomoe Sharingan, Orochimaru gazed upon it with a reverence that was deeply genuine.
This was something he had forged with his own hands, not ripped out of someone else's skull!
"This... this is the power of science! This is the allure of knowledge, the very realization of the truth I seek!" Orochimaru proclaimed, his voice trembling with raw excitement.
As he spoke, he thrust the Sharingan high above his head. Under the stark illumination of the incandescent lab lights, the Sharingan shone translucent and pristine, resembling a magnificent, radiant ruby. It was eerie, mesmerizing, and possessed an exotic, undeniable allure.
"Look at it... look at how breathtakingly beautiful it is. Every single fiber, every microscopic detail of its being is steeped in an intoxicating essence," Orochimaru marveled, delivering his praise like a zealous cultist.
While Sasori didn't share Orochimaru's obsessive fanaticism for knowledge and ultimate truth, he was undeniably shaken. He extended a hand, intending to take the Sharingan from Orochimaru's grip to examine it.
However, Orochimaru flicked his wrist away, looking at Sasori with a look of displeasure.
"Let me see it. This isn't your sole achievement," Sasori stated flatly.
"But I am the lead researcher," Orochimaru grumbled. Despite his reluctance, he still gingerly handed the Sharingan over to the puppet master.
Sasori accepted it with equal care. Staring intensely at the crimson orb, he murmured in fascination, "It is exactly as you said. It truly is a magnificent gem..."
Before he could finish his sentence, however, the Sharingan, which both men had just deemed an absolute treasure, suddenly jolted. It then began to rapidly wither. In the span of a single heartbeat, it regressed from its Sharingan state back into a normal black-and-white eyeball, before shriveling entirely into what looked like a mummified, dried-up socket.
Having watched a magnificent gemstone transform into a hideous prune in the blink of an eye, Sasori was left completely bewildered.
He snapped his head toward Orochimaru and quickly explained, "I didn't do anything..."
Orochimaru blinked in surprise initially, but a look of realization quickly washed over his face. "It's fine. This is a normal phenomenon. It completely drained its own chakra reserves, and it lacks a physical host to sustain it, nor was it preserved in a specialized nutrient solution."
Evidently, the fanatical Orochimaru from moments ago had managed to regain his clinical composure in a remarkably short window of time.
"I see. But... isn't its chakra consumption a bit too excessive? Even if a normal Sharingan runs completely out of chakra, it wouldn't shrivel up like this, would it?" Sasori nodded, though he still voiced his suspicion.
"It's a flaw, but I suspect it's primarily because it currently lacks a 'host.' Furthermore, it was synthesized from independent cellular tissue to begin with, so experiencing such complications was well within our parameters. It doesn't detract from our success," Orochimaru replied with complete nonchalance.
"Meaning, if it were cultivated directly inside Diarmuid's body, this issue might not even present itself?" Sasori pondered for a moment before asking.
"In all probability, yes. But even if the flaw persists, it matters little. That fellow Diarmuid's chakra seems to have no bottom... I doubt he would lose sleep over such a trivial defect, kukuku," Orochimaru chuckled smoothly.
Sasori gave it some thought, then nodded in agreement. "You make a very valid point..."
Indeed, a man like Diarmuid couldn't care less about something as trivial as chakra consumption.
Moreover, if this technology were applied directly to his own anatomy, the issue might not even manifest in the first place.
With that in mind, he truly wouldn't care.
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