"You've got nowhere left to run, Orochimaru."
"Hand it over. As punishment for overstepping your bounds… I'll settle for taking one of your arms."
Danzo Shimura's voice was calm, almost indifferent as he stared down the confined Sannin. His Root operatives stood ready, waiting for Orochimaru's submission.
It was only a matter of time.
Orochimaru had no option but to relinquish the stolen Sharingan.
The Uchiha were Danzo's prey—no one else was allowed to touch them.
One of the Root agents raised his blade on command and delivered a clean arc toward Orochimaru's right arm.
"Hmph. So this is how you treat your allies?" Orochimaru muttered. He didn't dodge. He let the blade slice through—only for the severed limb to unravel into a shed snake, and another to slither from beneath his cloak.
Shedding Skin.
His forbidden technique—limb regeneration via serpentine substitution.
"You won't kill me," Orochimaru said, testing Danzo's restraint.
"You're right. I won't. But I will maim you," Danzo snapped, his calm cracking.
He couldn't afford to kill Orochimaru—not with Hiruzen Sarutobi watching. Not yet.
"Inject him with Hashirama's cells."
Danzo's tone was ice. He would remind the Sannin who truly held power here.
Two Root agents retrieved vials from their packs. Drawing Hashirama cells into syringes, they approached the barrier of the Four Violet Flames Formation. A seam split open for them to pass through.
Orochimaru's expression shifted.
Hashirama's cells were dangerously virulent. They absorbed chakra to multiply, spreading like wildfire through the host's system. Even in harsh environments, they could survive so long as chakra was present.
If injected into a human body, they would devour the host's chakra, replicate uncontrollably, and eventually destroy the body from within.
"I can give you the Sharingan—"
Orochimaru prepared to surrender, his voice edged with hesitation.
But before he could move, Danzo and the surrounding Root ninja suddenly went limp and collapsed, lifelessly.
"Who's there!?"
Orochimaru's eyes swept the room. Something was off—drastically off.
Then a figure emerged from the shadows.
"Let's make a deal, Orochimaru. I'll get you out of here… and in return, you give me back what's mine."
Shisui Uchiha stood before him—calm, unreadable.
"Your eyes… they've been restored?" Orochimaru blinked. "As expected of the Uchiha. You had spares."
The presence of Shisui here… the strange behavior of Danzo moments ago… the reckless destruction of Orochimaru's lab—completely out of character for that frugal, calculating old man.
Something clicked.
A genjutsu.
Orochimaru immediately began the mental techniques to dispel illusions—but nothing worked. The illusion was airtight.
He played along.
"Compared to Danzo, you're a far safer ally," he said, finally tossing the vial containing Shisui's original Sharingan across the room.
As the glass touched Shisui's fingers, the entire illusion crumbled.
The lab returned to its undisturbed state—no Root agents, no Four Violet Flames Formation. Just Shisui standing behind Orochimaru… silent, watchful.
A chill ran along Orochimaru's neck.
The unmistakable touch of steel.
Blood beaded at his skin.
He turned. His former assistant lay dead on the floor, unmoving.
"Genjutsu…?" Orochimaru murmured.
He turned to get a full look at Shisui—only now noticing the left eye, glowing with a deep azure hue unlike any Sharingan he had seen.
"Yes. Everything you just experienced was an illusion," Shisui said. "I didn't need to fight you. I simply showed you what you already feared."
"You fear Danzo. Deeply."
"In that moment of surrender—you earned my acknowledgment. Perhaps we can work together after all."
Despite his youthful face, Shisui spoke like a veteran, as if testing Orochimaru's value.
The Sannin's golden eyes studied him carefully.
That eye… it radiated danger. Real danger.
"How do you call that eye?" Orochimaru asked, changing the subject.
"Machine-Mangekyō. It manipulates the human mind," Shisui answered without hesitation.
There was no need to lie.
Before that eye, Orochimaru posed no threat.
Fused with a biochip, the eye had awakened something far beyond ordinary dojutsu.
It birthed two new abilities.
The first was Mangekyō – "Manika": it didn't need eye contact to ensnare. It used the biochip's supercomputational power to embed illusion directly into the target's psyche. Each genjutsu was tailored from the victim's own fears, simulated with precision, and intensified far beyond normal limits.
What Orochimaru experienced had been one such illusion.
The second ability—Machine—overclocked the mind using the chip. Chakra surged. Perception accelerated. Battle instincts reached perfection. In that state, Shisui's ocular power tripled. It could reshape reality within his field of control.
The two could not be activated simultaneously.
Switching between them took about five seconds.
"Machine- Mangekyō…" Orochimaru echoed, voice soft.
So that's what this was.
This wasn't just some heirloom passed down in secret.
Someone—somewhere—had bred this.
Could it have come from an elder of the Uchiha Clan? One of Kagami's old allies? Or a hidden relic long preserved?
He didn't know.
But he wanted it.
The illusion had rattled him. Not just because it was realistic… but because his usual genjutsu-breaking techniques hadn't worked.
He couldn't even disrupt his chakra flow.
This was Mangekyō Sharingan?
A terrifying evolution.
Orochimaru licked his lips, pupils tightening as he watched Shisui turn away. Desire bloomed in his chest. Greed snuffed out caution.
That eye would be his.
Now!
His fingers flashed through hand seals—fast, precise.
Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!