Tonight, Konoha's night was darker than usual, as if the entire village had been steeped in ink.
In the dense shadows of the Forest of Death, outside a stone cave wedged into a steep fault, serpentine silhouettes slithered among the brush.
Hiss… hissss…
Sensing something amiss, the snakes lifted their heads, tongues flickering blood-red as they tasted the air.
On a distant tree, several masked figures appeared soundlessly, silent as owls in the dark, not disturbing even a single serpent.
"Here… is this the place?"
At the forefront stood Sarutobi Hiruzen, clad in light armor, his expression somber as he gazed toward the pitch-black cavern ahead. His murmured words were heavy, burdened with complexity.
"Disperse," he commanded quietly.
Swish! Swish!
The shadows behind him split apart, scattering swiftly in all directions like a pair of vast black wings, enclosing the entire area in a web of silent vigilance.
This was the ANBU, the elite special-ops unit famed for their efficiency, ruthlessness, and composure.
Recently, many of Konoha's genin, chūnin, and even ANBU had gone missing. It was alarming; even a single ANBU member, each one a talented chūnin or above, represented the backbone of the village.
Even with Danzo's efforts to cover up traces, not everything could be hidden.
And what angered and baffled Danzo even more, earlier that day, a Hyuga clan elder had been found dead, and the director of Konoha Hospital had vanished right under the village's nose.
Had Orochimaru gone insane?
The matter had finally reached Hiruzen, already burdened with border conflicts in the Land of Fire. The moment he heard the news, he recalled the troubling reports about Orochimaru's recent activities…
"Orochimaru…"
After a brief silence, Hiruzen and two ANBU vanished into the night, leaving behind only a sigh, one of both regret and disappointment.
Meanwhile, deep below the mountain cave, in the damp maze of an underground drainage system…
Drip… drip…
The only sound was that of water falling into shallow pools.
Within a large, dim chamber, one now transformed into a secret laboratory, Orochimaru stood before a surgical table, eyes gleaming.
"No matter how many times I see it, I can't help but marvel at the perfection of this body," he murmured.
On the table lay a flawless corpse. Orochimaru's desire and greed nearly overflowed.
He had seen preserved corpses before, grotesque, bloated, twisted. But this one… was different.
The face was refined, ethereal, the skin pale, hair sleek and black, eyelashes still intact. The eyes were closed peacefully, as if the boy were merely asleep.
Only the shriveled torso and thin limbs betrayed death.
Orochimaru was certain this youth was dead, yet the body still radiated a strange, faint vitality.
It was as if the soul had slipped free, leaving only a perfect shell behind.
"So this is the Ōtsutsuki clan…" Orochimaru whispered, licking his parched lips.
The ancient records of the Hyuga clan had spoken of them, godlike beings who created chakra and ninjutsu, possessing boundless vitality and spiritual power.
If he could transplant these organs… he might alter his own body and bloodline, gaining a new, superior form of life.
Only he, a master of organ and cell transplantation, could attempt such a procedure. Not even Tsunade could.
It was almost as if fate had prepared this experiment for him.
He turned to the adjacent operating table. There, restrained and trembling, was a fifteen-year-old boy with long, silky black hair, pale skin, and a "卍" curse mark on his forehead.
His eyes, pure white, like untouched snow, marked him unmistakably as a Hyuga.
A branch family member.
His name: Hyuga Arata.
The ancient texts and this Ōtsutsuki corpse had been offered to Orochimaru by Arata himself.
According to the Hyuga records, their clan descended directly from the Ōtsutsuki. Thus, Arata's body was the perfect match, the ideal vessel for transplantation.
"Arata, only the heart remains. Are you ready?"
Orochimaru smiled, soft, yet sinister. He deliberately omitted honorifics, speaking the boy's name as though he already owned him.
That was the truth. Once the surgery was complete, Orochimaru would brand him with a curse mark, perfect his soul transfer technique, and eventually take that flawless body for himself.
He wasn't worried. The boy was only fifteen, and branded by his clan as a "failure."
"Lord Orochimaru, please begin."
Arata's face was pale with fear, yet his voice was steady. His eyes glowed with gratitude.
"You avenged my parents by killing that old man. I offer you this body, my only gift of thanks."
Orochimaru chuckled. Indeed, killing that Hyuga elder had taken effort, but it was a necessary step to gain Arata's full cooperation.
He no longer cared about Konoha's rules. If betraying the village granted him the secrets of the Ōtsutsuki, so be it.
"What are you doing, Orochimaru?!"
The shout came from an elderly man in a lab coat, the missing hospital director, code-named "Owl," one of Danzo's trained medical-nin.
Fear flickered in his eyes, but Orochimaru ignored him.
When all preparations were done, Orochimaru activated the complex sealing array beneath the table.
Bzzz!
Dark symbols spread, locking Arata's body in place while channeling chakra through tubes and an external blood circulation device.
His other organs had already been replaced with those of the Ōtsutsuki corpse; only the heart remained.
Shing
With a chakra scalpel, Orochimaru opened the boy's chest, exposing the organs beneath. Carefully, he severed Arata's heart and replaced it with the alien one.
"Orochimaru, you're insane!" Owl trembled. "A heart transplant? With only the two of us?!"
"I think you can handle it," Orochimaru said coldly. "Because if you can't… things will get messy."
The old man's face twitched, and then he obeyed.
Together they worked, sealing blood vessels, channeling chakra, forcing life to cling where it should not.
Minute by minute, Orochimaru's chakra waned. The boy's chest wound began to close under healing jutsu.
"Just one more step," Orochimaru whispered. "Arata… don't let me down."
Now it depended on whether the boy could withstand the power, the power of the Ōtsutsuki.
Thump!
A deep, thunderous heartbeat echoed. Veins bulged beneath the boy's skin, glowing faintly blue.
Thump… thump-thump!
The heartbeat grew stronger, then the boy screamed.
His veins burned as if molten metal coursed through them, his skin blistered and split, blood boiling like magma.
"Use your chakra!" Orochimaru barked. "Control it, subdue the heart!"
The boy's chakra erupted violently, and then, suddenly, everything went still. The machines flatlined.
"Damn it!" Orochimaru snarled. "He's a Hyuga, he should've been compatible!"
He readied his scalpel to recover the Ōtsutsuki heart before it necrotized-
Thump…
A faint heartbeat. Orochimaru froze.
Thump!
Then another, louder.
The lab fell deathly silent.
Thump… thump-thump!
The sound grew, from a quiet flutter to a roaring drumbeat shaking the walls.
Orochimaru's golden eyes widened, the instruments spiked. Vital signs stabilized, no, surged beyond human limits.
Finally-
"Yes…"
A soft voice answered him.
"Yes, I've succeeded," the voice said.
Orochimaru stiffened. The boy on the table slowly opened his eyes.
They were still the pale eyes of the Hyuga, yet not. Under the surgical lights, they shimmered like molten glass, iridescent, between white and pale blue.
But what truly chilled Orochimaru was their emptiness, calm, still, utterly devoid of emotion.
Blood steamed off the boy's skin in a red mist. The air grew hot, heavy with power.
"Y-you…"
Owl stammered, and then-
Slash!
The sound was light, almost gentle.
Orochimaru turned his head slightly; a thin red line traced his cheek.
Behind him, Owl's headless body fell to its knees. Blood sprayed upward, raining crimson across the lab.
The severed head hit the floor with a hollow thud, rolling until it came to rest, eyes wide open, still in disbelief.
Blood fell like rain between them.
"I've waited for this day… far too long."
Hyuga Arata sat up slowly. He gazed at his bloodstained hand, flexing it as chakra danced between his fingers.
He smiled faintly at Orochimaru.
"Such a night should be silent, don't you think?"
Three years… three years, and three more years beyond that.
At last, he had completed his frail body, reclaimed the true bloodline of the Ōtsutsuki… and-
Ding!
[Your lie "Ōtsutsuki Corpse and Descendant" has been judged as "Into the Game," "Honeyed Blade," and "Lie Becomes Truth." Orochimaru's emotional disturbance reached the level of Deep Belief. You gain +10,000 Truth Points.]
Evaluation: "A deceiver's art, a shadow play upon the wall. Even the smallest man may cast a great shadow."
Remaining Reality Points: 10,041
Orochimaru stared at the boy's youthful face, once timid and meek.
Now it smiled, a quiet, chilling smile.
Like a child pressing an ant beneath his finger… watching it struggle, before crushing it completely.
Pure evil.