Orochimaru was stunned for a moment.
The sword pressed against his neck belonged to none other than Hatake Sakumo, known as the White Fang, who had committed suicide not long ago.
"This is impossible!" Orochimaru, famed for his cold demeanor, couldn't hide his shock. He had personally seen White Fang commit seppuku with his own eyes and had even examined his body. But here was the same man, pressing a sword against his throat.
It was absurd. It had to be a dream.
"Anything is possible," came a voice, deep and calm, with a strange sense of calmness that cut through Orochimaru's confusion.
Orochimaru gritted his teeth, his pupils narrowing. "You can't be White Fang! I saw him die! I checked his body! It wasn't a trick!"
"The definition of 'death' can vary. What you consider death might not be what it seems," replied Uchiha Sogetsu, lifting his hand to signal White Fang to lower the sword. "White Fang did die, but it was only his physical body. What you see now is his Soul Body."
Orochimaru's eyes widened with excitement. Though he had conducted secret research into the soul and consumed countless test subjects, he had never encountered anything like this.
"A soul?" Orochimaru mused, his interest piqued. "That's not entirely wrong, but it's not quite accurate either," Sogetsu replied, shaking his head. "Now, I can answer your first question. I have no intention of harming you. Your presence here is due to the 'Lord's' decision, and you have two choices."
Orochimaru instantly became cautious. "What are these two choices?" he asked.
"The first option," Sogetsu began, "is to treat all this as a dream. Wake up and either share it with others or forget it entirely." Sogetsu paused as he stepped back towards a skeletal cross.
"And the second option?" Orochimaru asked, feeling a tugging sense in his heart that this was an opportunity he couldn't miss.
"The second option is to become a representative of the 'Lord'," Sogetsu replied calmly. "This way, you'll gain insight into your fate and be given a slim chance to fight against it, no longer a prisoner to destiny."
"Earlier, you mentioned that those who are enlightened aren't necessarily happy," Orochimaru said, narrowing his eyes with a hint of amusement. "If I join you and become an agent of the Lord, do I get to fight my own destiny?"
Underneath the bone cross, he wore a pious expression. "When it all ends, the original Creator will awaken from death. The kingdom envisioned by the Lord will manifest in the material world, and the future He has spoken of will unfold and become reality."
"Fascinating. I'm in," Orocimaru replied.
Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with cunning as he smiled. "In return, I'd like you to teach me about the soul."
Whether the "Lord" this person referenced was real or not, Orochimaru didn't seem to care. What intrigued him was the other's knowledge of soul-based research, something that could prove invaluable.
"How does that sound? My terms." Orochimaru's tongue flicked out as he grinned like a predatory snake, a dangerous edge to his voice.
"Of course, besides joining you, I'm prepared to offer something in return. Say, the bloodline limits from Konoha, the Book of Seals, and the first Hokage's cells—those should pique your interest, don't you think?"
Hearing this, Uchiha Sogetsu felt his heart skip a beat, though his "Placate" skill quickly settled his nerves.
The offer was undoubtedly attractive. The bloodline limits from Konoha, the Book of Seals containing numerous forbidden jutsu, and the cells of the first Hokage—these were prizes that could make anyone's mouth water.
But for Uchiha Sogetsu, despite their value, they weren't what he needed right now.
"The things you're talking about are not my concern, and I don't require these things," he said, declining Orochimaru's offer.
His voice was steady, betraying no hint of temptation.
"Orochimaru, perhaps these things are treasures in your eyes, but to me, they are worthless and irrelevant. Keep your little tricks to yourself."
It was a hard refusal, one that hurt even as he said it. But for the sake of his own principles, he had to reject the offer.
In response, Sogetsu reminded himself that other opportunities would come; there was no need to cling to the temptation in front of him.
"Oh, okay." Orochimaru shrugged, indifferent to the rejection. "Now, can you tell me what kind of organization this is?"
"The Twilight Hermit Order," Sogetsu's voice echoed through the hall, a haunting quality in its tone. "Our mission is simple: we intervene in history at key moments, guiding the course of events to align with our vision, to awaken the original Creator who fell into the sleep of death."
White Fang set his sword aside and moved silently to the side, his presence as unobtrusive as a shadow.
"What a fascinating place. Is this where we'll be meeting from now on?" he asked.
Orochimaru gazed around the unusual bone church. It was unclear whether he was admiring its architecture or marveling at the sheer number of bones stacked throughout the building.
"It's intriguing," he said. "It's rare to find someone in the ninja world who operates entirely off the grid. You certainly know how to pique my interest."
His narrow, snake-like eyes fixated on a cross made of bones, an aura of mystery and intrigue surrounding him. He seemed almost mesmerized by the sight.
Curious, he had the urge to dissect and examine everything. But then he focused on the conversation at hand.
"If we're talking about communication," Sogetsu considered his words for a moment, and within the church, a black mist swirled like a rising tide.
Though he hadn't tried anything like this before, he knew that since this was a realm created from dreams and thoughts, it must be possible.
In a flash, a long bronze table appeared in the center of the bone church. Several high-backed chairs, all of the same bronze material, were positioned on each side of the table.
White Fang and Orochimaru took their seats in the first row, sitting across from each other, with Sogetsu presiding at the head of the table.
"I'm borrowing your creativity, Klein," Sogetsu muttered quietly, almost to himself. "We are all fellow time travelers, after all—you should understand."
Orochimaru reached out to touch the bronze chair. The metal's cold, hard texture made him shiver a bit. "There's no doubt," he mused, "this is no illusion."
As a ninjutsu expert, he had studied many types of illusions, but none felt this tangible, this real. The authenticity was undeniable.
"Twilight Hermit Order, what secrets are you hiding?" Orochimaru wondered to himself. The techniques he had witnessed from the mysterious man had already surpassed any known ninjutsu. "Perhaps this is my chance," he thought. "I'll trust this for now and see where it leads."
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