In the Land of Fire, Orochimaru had just arrived at a hidden underground lab near Konoha when he received a report from Kabuto.
It detailed the recent events in Amegakure. While the report lacked intricate specifics, the overall sequence and outcome were described thoroughly.
After reading it, Orochimaru casually tossed the document into a nearby flame. The flickering fire reflected in his eyes, casting a strange glint.
"Attacked Nagato, stole the Rinnegan… So Obito actually made a move…"
This development was unexpected. Orochimaru had gone to warn Nagato—and by extension, pressure both Obito and Black Zetsu. Yet somehow, his presence had the opposite effect.
"If I'd known this would happen… I would've pushed Nagato further, drained more of his stamina."
Orochimaru clicked his tongue in disappointment.
"What a waste… ruining a Rinnegan like that."
The Rinnegan was a treasure—one that arose from rare and complex circumstances. Even with all his knowledge, Orochimaru couldn't simply recreate it. Destroying one felt like a loss for the ages.
Still, there was a silver lining.
"At least with one eye lost, Nagato should lie low for a while."
But something didn't sit right.
"Still… how did Obito pull it off?"
Even weakened, Nagato wasn't someone Obito could defeat so easily. Not unless he had help.
"Maybe Madara left something on Nagato—some kind of trap," mused Djinn, poking his head out. "He wouldn't just hand over a Rinnegan without safeguards. And if he worked with Black Zetsu, the opportunity might've been there."
Djinn recalled how, in the original timeline, Madara used a Yin-Yang release-based substance to manipulate Obito. While it failed once, it worked the second time—especially with Zetsu's support. And Nagato in a weakened state might've been even more vulnerable than Obito was then.
"Even if Madara planted something, Black Zetsu likely never got close enough to activate it directly," Orochimaru reasoned. "At best, it could've been a remote mechanism."
After several theories and counter-theories, they arrived at a conclusion:
Nagato was simply careless.
It sounded absurd—but sometimes, the simplest explanation made the most sense.
"He's grown," said Djinn, "but not fast enough to match the dangers around him."
"Fate's gifts always come with hidden prices," s
he added. "And when it's time to collect, the payment is brutal."
In truth, Nagato's entire fate had been shaped by the Rinnegan. Without it, he might've died early, never trained under Jiraiya, and never stood against Hanzo. His strength and his burdens came from the same source.
And Obito and Black Zetsu? They were just the debt collectors.
"At least he's strong enough to drive them off before they could take everything."
Orochimaru glanced at Djinn, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"Your expression's oddly complicated. Feeling sympathy for Madara's failed investment?"
"A bit," Djinn admitted. "But not enough to truly empathize. Madara risked it all and lost. I've made nothing but profit."
He grinned. "Besides, I haven't milked you dry yet—still plenty of use left."
"Curious," Orochimaru replied. "At my level, you could've consumed me completely. And yet… you haven't."
He was genuinely intrigued. Most of his power had already been duplicated by Djinn. Even if he took full control of his body, he doubted he'd stop pursuing the same goals.
"So why haven't you taken over?" he asked. "Is this restraint… genuine?"
Djinn scoffed.
"Becoming a Djinn doesn't erase my humanity. Besides, just because I could doesn't mean I should."
"But you haven't discarded your humanity either," Orochimaru persisted.
He was less concerned about the danger Djinn posed and more interested in what he represented: a glimpse of what lay beyond immortality.
He'd already neared his goal of eternal life. But what came after?
"You fear stagnation," Djinn said. "But I'm not you. I'll always have new hosts, new experiences. I won't rot from within like a sealed god."
"You should look outward, not inward," he continued. "The universe is vast. Look at the Otsutsuki."
The mention of that clan stirred something in Orochimaru. Djinn had shared what he knew, but he hadn't met them personally. Their abilities—especially interstellar travel—were more than myth.
"I'll need to find one eventually," he said.
"No need to search," Djinn replied. "They'll come to you. Kaguya's betrayal still echoes in their ranks. It's only a matter of time."
He rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
"Your real concern should be whether you'll win when they do show up."
---
Time passed. A week later, Orochimaru remained in his lab, monitoring Shion's purification of the Box of Bliss, while digesting the gains from Ryūchi Cave and Amegakure.
Outside, news of the battle near Amegakure had spread across the ninja world like wildfire.
Accounts of dragons and serpents battling thunder giants in the sky sounded too fantastical to believe at first. Many dismissed them as exaggerations—or propaganda, paid for by Konoha and the Akatsuki.
But too many people had witnessed it. The environmental damage alone—the massive crater and the broken meteor—couldn't be faked.
All five great nations dispatched scouts to investigate, even Kumogakure, who had recently joined Nagato's camp. After all, no one wanted to serve a new master they didn't understand.
Strangely, the Akatsuki didn't suppress the rumors this time. Their usual iron grip on Amegakure's borders loosened, and they let the whispers spread.
As a result, the story grew wilder by the day, becoming a kind of modern myth.
Eventually, Konoha stepped forward to release an 'official' statement—downplaying the incident as a simple sparring match.
Akatsuki echoed the message, calming the masses.
But the other villages weren't fooled. Behind the scenes, high-ranking shinobi cursed and debated. It was time to pick sides.
For villages like Sunagakure or Amegakure, that decision had already been made. But the rest? They now had a clock ticking over their heads.
---
Meanwhile, in the former Land of Iron—now known as Tōnin Village—the remnants of the old samurai order had long since vanished.
Four or five years ago, missing-nin from Kirigakure had taken over and established a new shinobi village with Kusagakure's support.
At first, the native civilians had been wary. But now, after seeing the Akatsuki's strength, even the most stubborn villagers had warmed up.
Everywhere, villagers made an effort—greeting shinobi, chatting with trainees, offering food and gossip.
Among those receiving attention were two young prodigies from the Yuki and Kaguya clans.
One of them, Kai, leaned against a cold wall, panting slightly despite the freezing air. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his brow.
"These people are way too enthusiastic…"
He wiped his forehead and exhaled a misty breath.
"Then ignore them," said the boy beside him—Kimimaro. His voice was cold and detached. "Don't torture yourself."
"I can't. The clan leaders ordered it," Kai replied with a wry smile. "Besides, I want to connect with them."
"You idiot…"
Kimimaro looked away, unsure what else to say.
Neither of them were good at socializing. If they acted aloof, they'd be reprimanded. As clan prodigies, they were expected to lead by example.
And Kai… was enduring it for his sake.
_____________________
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