It was late at night, and most people in the sprawling village of Konoha were sound asleep.
Of course, there were a few who chose not to waste their valuable time in such an ordinary way.
For Orochimaru, time was the most precious "treasure" in the world.
Though it was late into the night, and even the hardworking Third Hokage had retired to bed, Orochimaru remained in his laboratory.
As a disciple of the Third Hokage and a member of the 'Legendary Sannin,' Orochimaru was entitled to a fully-equipped, independent research lab, complete with the best instruments, personnel, and, of course, precious electricity.
Inside this brightly-lit lab, Orochimaru, clad in a white kimono, quietly observed his "experimental results."
"Lord Orochimaru." The assistant in charge of documenting the research results was visibly nervous. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and swallowed hard. "The experiment failed. The subject couldn't handle the yang chakra."
Through a glass wall in an isolated chamber, one could see a person writhing in agony, his screams echoing through the room. Then, his body began to transform into wood.
In a matter of seconds, the once-living person had been completely consumed by wood, becoming a life-sized wooden statue, covered in branches and leaves, like a grotesque piece of nature.
Orochimaru's narrow eyes flickered slightly, his sharp gaze fixing on the assistant.
"Lord Orochimaru." The assistant shuddered, feeling as if a venomous snake was eyeing him. Fear took hold, and he instinctively stepped back.
After a brief pause, Orochimaru did not pursue further. His hoarse voice, akin to a snake's hiss, slithered through the air: "Go report the results to the Third Hokage."
"Yes, Lord Orochimaru," the assistant replied.
He exhaled in relief, allowing himself a small smile. Then, he quickly fled.
Terrifying! Simply terrifying!
Just a single look from those pale golden eyes made him feel like he was about to be devoured by a python.
Orochimaru watched the assistant scurry away, his heart unmoved.
It wasn't that he was indifferent to what others thought—it was more that he didn't care at all. His only focus was uncovering the true essence of life.
Orochimaru muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the experiment results before him. "Another failure," he said coldly.
He then added with a hint of mockery, "Harnessing the power of the First Hokage isn't as simple as I'd hoped. Looks like I've disappointed my teacher again... I need more test subjects."
Orochimaru moved to his desk, sitting down with a sense of weariness, though his eyes remained as sharp as ever. He pulled out a scroll and began recording the results of his experiments.
Each line detailed his various attempts to replicate the First Hokage's wood-style jutsu. But the results were far from satisfactory.
At the end of the scroll, he paused to think for a moment before writing, "Progress on wood-style research is slow. At least a hundred more test subjects will be needed."
As he completed the final line, even Orochimaru, a ninja on Kage level, felt the toll of his recent sleepless nights. His body demanded rest, and he couldn't resist any longer.
"I should rest," he thought, allowing his eyes to close. His muscles relaxed, and sleep quickly overtook him.
But just as Orochimaru drifted into slumber, a dense black mist swept into the room. It carried a haunting whisper, like the murmurs of thousands of voices. It enveloped Orochimaru instantly.
"I've been attacked?" he thought, but before he could react, he felt his consciousness slipping into a dark void. He had no control over the descent, and it felt like he was falling into infinite darkness.
The moment he regained consciousness, Orochimaru sprang into a combat stance, his instincts sharp as ever. His eyes darted around, quickly assessing his surroundings.
He was in a vast chamber—the Corpse Cathedral—with a dome constructed from an assortment of bones. The empty eye sockets of the skeletal structure seemed to watch him from above, creating an eerie yet sacred atmosphere.
A voice echoed from beneath a giant cross made of bones. It belonged to a hazy figure, who spoke calmly, "It seems the Lord has chosen another one. There's no need to be nervous. Here, your life isn't in danger."
Orochimaru turned toward the voice, his gaze hardening. He hadn't sensed the figure's presence at all, which was concerning for someone with his level of skill even if he isn't a sensory ninja.
Despite this, he maintained his composure and replied, "Who are you? Are you planning to provoke a war by infiltrating Konoha?" His mind raced through possible scenarios, but he kept his tone even and defiant.
"A mere illusion won't be enough to trap me," he said, licking his dry lips as he prepared for whatever might come next.
The Corpse Cathedral, a shadowy figure, and the darkness after he fell asleep—when you put it all together, there's only one explanation: Orochimaru had fallen into some kind of illusion!
He quickly formed hand seals, channeling chakra to break the illusion. "Illusion Break!" he shouted.
Boom!
A gust of wind swept through the cathedral hall. But as the air settled, Orochimaru was still in the cathedral. Everything looked exactly the same, not a single detail had changed.
His expression grew darker. "Who are you?" he demanded. "This illusion is impressively strong."
A voice, serene yet filled with authority, echoed through the hall like a hymn. "I am the Lord's envoy, the king of angels. You may call me Adam."
Uchiha Sogetsu descended the staircase, his voice both calm and commanding. "This is neither an illusion nor a dream. This is the realm of our Lord, the true domain of our God. Orochimaru, you have been chosen as his messenger. Our meeting is no coincidence. All of this serves to awaken the dormant Original Creator'."
Who am I? Where am I? What am I supposed to do? Orochimaru's mind raced with questions. He understood the words but couldn't piece them together.
"Do you believe in destiny?" Uchiha Sogetsu asked, his tone steady.
Orochimaru frowned, sensing something wasn't quite right. "What are you talking about?" he asked warily.
"The answer is simple," Sogetsu replied, his voice softer. "If you knew everything that would happen to you in the future, would you be happy? If you were aware of your destiny and all the trials you'd face along the way, would that bring you joy?"
Orochimaru crossed his arms and smirked. "Ridiculous!" he scoffed. "Are you saying you know my future?"
Sogetsu continued to speak as he circled around Orochimaru. "If you know the ending, if you're aware of all the suffering on the path toward that end, can it really be called [enlightenment]? The truly enlightened are always at peace. What do you think, Orochimaru?"
The question intrigued Orochimaru, drawing a sly grin across his lips. "How can it be happiness if you know your destiny but can't change it?" he asked, his voice dripping with malice.
"Everyone is a slave to destiny. You can resist, but you'll never truly change the outcome," Sogetsu replied without a hint of emotion. "In that case, why not accept it with grace? If you are aware of your destiny, you can face it calmly. Isn't that a kind of happiness?"
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed beneath his lavender eyeshadow. "It seems we have very different interpretations of destiny."
"If that's all, you should let me go now," Orochimaru warned, his voice laced with a threat. "Otherwise, you'll regret it."
Orochimaru silently formed a hand seal, spreading his arms wide. From the folds of his kimono, several venomous snakes slithered out, their fangs dripping with poison.
"That's enough, Orochimaru."
In an instant, a shadowy figure materialized behind him, as if stepping out of thin air.
Clang!
A cold, blinding flash of steel sliced through the air.
Orochimaru felt the icy touch of a blade against his neck. Glancing downward, he saw a gleaming short sword pressed against his skin.
The edge of the blade was so sharp that he knew if he so much as twitched, his head would be separated from his body in an instant.
"This sword..." Orochimaru's eyes widened as he stared at the weapon at his throat, his pupils dilating in shock. He turned his head slightly to get a better look at his assailant.
It was a middle-aged man with long silver-white hair tied into a ponytail. His face was weathered but familiar, like a figure from the past.
Orochimaru's breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling as if struck by lightning. He stood there in disbelief. "White Fang? Sakumo Hatake! But you're supposed to be dead!"
********
Support me on my patreon and read upto 15 early chapters.
https://www.patreon.com/Unique_Writer