The immediate threat was gone, but the serpent's shadow lingered. The Hokage himself stood in the ruined clearing, his expression grave as medics were summoned. ANBU agents moved with silent efficiency, carefully removing the kunai from Sasuke's shoulder and beginning the healing process, while others tended to the unconscious Naruto.
"Are you injured, Deva?" the Hokage asked, his voice quiet as he approached the only member of Team 7 still standing.
"I am uninjured, Lord Hokage," Deva replied, his body aching with exhaustion.
"Give me your report. What happened here?"
Deva took a breath and gave a clear, factual account of the battle. He described the Grass-nin's appearance, the overwhelming killing intent, their desperate but coordinated 3-on-1 fight, and their eventual, total defeat just moments before the Hokage's arrival. He was respectful but did not hide the fact that they had been completely outmatched. As he spoke, his mind was already processing the frequency of the Hokage's own powerful Fire Dragon Jutsu, logging it away.
The Hokage listened in silence. "You faced a legendary Sannin and survived," Hiruzen said, his voice a low rumble. "There is no shame in your defeat. There is only a miracle in your survival." He looked at Deva, his gaze intense. "Orochimaru has taken an interest in you and Sasuke. You must be vigilant."
Deva nodded, understanding the weight of the warning. He then retrieved the scorched Earth scroll that Orochimaru had thrown at them. They had what they needed to pass.
"The three of you have passed the second exam," the Hokage declared, making the decision on the spot. "Your trial in this forest is over. ANBU will escort you to the tower." He recognized that forcing them to continue after what they had endured would be pointless and cruel.
Days later, in the infirmary of the central tower, Sasuke's eyes snapped open. He was met with the sight of Naruto sleeping fitfully in the next bed over, and Deva sitting silently in a chair by the window. The memory of his humiliating defeat, of being pinned and helpless, of Orochimaru's words about his brother, came rushing back. A cold, silent fury settled in his heart.
When Kakashi arrived to check on them, the mood was tense. He explained who Orochimaru was—a traitor to the village, a renegade Sannin obsessed with forbidden jutsu. He warned them again that they were now targets.
"Perhaps it would be best if you withdrew from the exams," Kakashi suggested, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
"No," Sasuke said instantly, his voice like ice. "I'm not running away."
"No way!" Naruto agreed, now awake. "I'm just getting started!"
Kakashi looked at Deva, who simply shook his head. Their resolve was absolute, forged in the fire of their recent failure.
Soon, all the teams who had survived the Forest of Death were gathered in a large arena for the next stage. The Third Hokage stood before them, along with the proctor for the third exam, a sickly-looking man named Hayate Gekko. The Hokage explained the true purpose of the Chunin Exams: a diplomatic event, a showcase of each village's military strength, a "war by proxy."
"Due to the unexpectedly high number of teams who have passed," Hiruzen announced, "we will now hold a preliminary round to reduce the number of competitors for the final tournament. The preliminaries will be one-on-one battles, and they will begin immediately."
A massive screen on the wall lit up, names beginning to flash across it. The air grew thick with tension. This was it. No more teamwork. It was a test of individual strength.
The fights were fast and brutal, a rapid-fire showcase of the best of their generation.
The first match was Sasuke versus Yoroi Akado. Fueled by a new, cold fury and a desperate need to prove himself, Sasuke dominated the fight. He used his Sharingan and a brilliant display of taijutsu he had copied from Rock Lee, ending the match decisively. He stood panting in the center of the arena, his eyes finding Deva's on the balcony, a clear challenge in his gaze.
The matches continued. Naruto, in a chaotic and unpredictable fight, managed to defeat Kiba Inuzuka. Shino's insects overwhelmed his opponent. Kankuro's puppet won with brutal efficiency. The Hyuga prodigy, Neji, mercilessly defeated his own cousin, Hinata, in a display of cold power that left the entire room in a grim silence. One by one, the finalists were decided.
Deva watched each fight, his senses wide open. It was a feast of combat data. He analyzed every jutsu, every fighting style, every unique chakra signature. He paid special attention to the Sand genin, Gaara. His match had been a terrifying, instantaneous slaughter. His opponent had been crushed into a bloody pulp by a wave of sand without Gaara even moving a muscle. Deva could feel the energy radiating from the red-haired boy. It was immense, unstable, and filled with a hateful, ancient hunger that felt chillingly familiar, like a far more violent echo of the power within Naruto.
Finally, most of the matches were over. Only a few names were left. The electronic board on the wall began to cycle through them at high speed, the clicking sound filling the tense room. Then, the names stopped, locking into place with a final, decisive beep.
GAARA
vs.
DEVA
A palpable chill went through the room. Everyone who had witnessed Gaara's match understood this was a potential death sentence.
On the balcony, Naruto and Sasuke looked at their teammate with a new, shared sense of concern. They had just fought a monster in the forest; now Deva had to fight the monster of the Sand. Kakashi's expression became incredibly grim. From across the room, the Sand Siblings, Kankuro and Temari, looked on with undisguised terror, not for Deva, but for what their unstable brother was about to unleash.
Down in the arena, Gaara looked up at the board, then at Deva. A twisted, bloodthirsty grin spread across his face as sand began to swirl excitedly around him.
"Finally," he whispered, his voice a dry, scratchy sound that promised only pain. "Mother has been waiting for someone strong. Your blood will be exquisite."
On the balcony, Deva looked from the board to Gaara. His expression was calm, his silver eyes analytical. He felt the immense, unstable, and hateful chakra rolling off the Sand ninja. It was a terrifying, fascinating frequency. He gave a single, almost imperceptible nod and vaulted over the railing, landing silently and without a sound in the arena below. The stage was set for a battle of monsters.