"You should kill yourself."
A low-pitched voice rang from the darkness, echoing throughout the dimly lit room. The walls were made of thick stone, with strange dark symbols scattered here and there. The only thing that seemed alive in the room was a youngster, his body exhibiting signs of extreme exhaustion and weakness.
Of course, there was also the Voice.
"Put an end to your worthless life."
The Voice seemed to come from every direction, with no discernible pattern or order to its frequency. All the young man could do was stare at the darkness in front of him, his hollow electric green eyes hidden beneath strands of ashen blonde hair.
"Your future is nonexistent. You aren't fit to be one of us."
As the Voice rang out again, the boy could only look down at his hands. They were covered in bruises and calluses, a testament to the struggles and efforts of his life. Eventually, he let his hands drop to the floor, too tired to keep them up.
"Subject 4-01, the only meaning your life has right now is death. Only in death can you fulfill your life's purpose."
This time, the pair of electric green eyes rose, their gaze transforming from hollow and emotionless to sharp and intense. The young boy shifted slightly to the right as his lower lip slowly curled downward. In the next moment, a quiet yet firm word left his mouth.
"Begone."
A moment of silence followed, making it seem as if the world had gone still. The stillness, however, did not last long. The low-pitched Voice spoke again, now with more ferocity, its calmness replaced by fury.
"How pathetic. You are Subject 4-01, a lapdog who should obey what I say!"
The Voice continued, its anger evident.
"From your birth, you were nothing but a pawn meant to be used by others, for others."
Each word cut deeper than the last, a painful reminder of the reality the boy was trapped in.
"You were born from an experiment, a lab rat lucky enough to live another day."
Memories of the past resurfaced in the depths of the boy's eyes. His life in the Shinobi world had been boring and dull. Before all of this, he had been just an ordinary student, living a peaceful life.
Loving, supportive parents.
A clear future as a medic.
Even someone he considered a significant other.
All of it ended one cursed night.
And from that night on, a hell began.
Ever since he appeared in this world, there had never been a moment of peace. Constant tests and torturous injections. Endless physical training and ninjutsu exercises. Death and despair.
Even his name had been stripped from him, leaving him branded as Subject 4-01.
To think there were days I was called Yuurei.
"Why do you keep living? You have no one to care for you. Just kill yourself and end your misery!"
The irritating Voice whispered directly into the boy's ears. Before it could continue, however, Yuurei's hand shot out into the darkness to his right and gripped something tightly. A second later, the sound of choking came from that direction. Yuurei's electric green eyes glimmered with satisfaction as he spoke, his words laced with mockery.
This test... I'll give you the answer you need.
"To protect those around me."
To spite you all.
"To serve my nation."
To return to my home.
"To protect the Leaf."
To abolish this accursed world.
With each word, his grip tightened further. Finally, he made a hand sign with his free arm and quietly muttered.
"Genjutsu Release."
The room shattered into a million pieces, replaced by a new vision. Yuurei was no longer confined, nor did he feel any exhaustion or weakness. His physical state seemed at its peak. His slender yet refined body stood in the middle of a secluded alley in a forested area. Nearby, a figure struggled to breathe, strangled by none other than Yuurei himself.
The figure was clad in a dark robe and a hawk mask, obscuring their face. Despite this, recognition flickered in Yuurei's electric green eyes. With a sigh, he stopped strangling the figure and spoke in a slightly annoyed tone.
"Do you always have to do that whenever you deliver a message, 4-09?"
The figure chuckled and removed the mask, revealing the pale face of a young girl, around 13 years old—the same age as Yuurei. A playful glint sparkled in her dark eyes.
"I'm sorry, 4-01, but I can't help finding it amusing every time you get so serious. Hehe."
Yuurei's impatience grew as he waited for her to finish speaking.
"Get straight to the point. What do you want?"
She chuckled again, brushing a strand of white hair out of her face with a disappointed sigh.
"Unfortunately, I don't have time to annoy you today. 'He' requested your presence in our ba—"
Before she could finish, a powerful gust of wind rushed past her, leaving her standing alone in the alley. With a heavy sigh, she looked at the setting sun and muttered softly.
"He didn't even say goodbye... What a jerk. Well, I can't blame him. After all, 'He' doesn't like it when people are late."
Some distance away, in an underground facility, an elderly man walked through corridors connecting various rooms. Although he seemed old, once could feel the confident demanor in the way he effortlessly walked . Suddenly, he stopped and spoke aloud.
"You're here, 4-01."
At his words, a dark-cloaked figure wearing an oni mask appeared from the shadows, kneeling behind him.
"Yes... Danzo-sama."