Seiran tapped his chin, frowning at the thing writhing before him.
A lifeform, he'd called it—though that was generous. More like a tentacle. Slimy. Metallic. Thick as his forearm, it stood upright for a moment, twitched, then went slack. Inert now, it looked almost ridiculous.
He exhaled and glanced at the journal on the table beside him.
Test 139: The "nucleus" concept has achieved success. This programmed nucleus can indeed grant biological activity to metal. Currently, however, the activity remains fragile—far below the threshold for combat application. Next phase: create multiple nuclei to distribute throughout humanoid metal constructs, functioning as organs. Trials continue.
Seiran stretched his stiff neck. Finally—after pivoting toward biomechanical lifeforms like scorpions—he'd gotten results.
It was the opposite path from Orochimaru's.
Sasori had chosen pure machinery. He'd abandoned his flesh entirely, transferring his consciousness into a regeneration nucleus to achieve mechanical transcendence. That had sparked Seiran's vision.
The nucleus.
By combining nanometals with chakra and encoding consciousness directly into them, he could grant biological activity to inert metal. Similar to AI, yet fundamentally different—more like an organ. Similar to Sasori's regeneration nucleus, actually.
In theory, Seiran's current command over Electromagnetic Manipulation could transform his own body into true machinery. Complete ascension.
But he wouldn't do it.
His flesh was evolving. Each refinement of Electromagnetic Manipulation reshaped his body, and now his physical form had transcended the vast majority of humans. This was precisely why Orochimaru wanted it.
To abandon that almost unlimited growth in exchange for mechanical godhood? Not worth it.
The capabilities of a nanomechanical body could be entirely replicated through proxies—like his current strategy: creating specialized nano-lifeforms to serve as extensions of himself. Body and machine, both ascending together.
Better that way.
His creation already possessed a certain biological vitality. The reason was simple: nanometals possessed terrifying memory properties, and chakra itself could animate dead matter. Yang chakra especially.
The Sage of Six Paths had split the Divine Tree and used Yin-Yang forces to create nine tailed beasts. Elder Chiyo had developed puppet reincarnation that could breathe life into dolls. Dust Release's ultimate techniques used corpse soil to forge living clay.
Creating life wasn't unusual in the shinobi world.
The challenge was creating life strong enough.
Like a mechanical sentinel.
The direction was sound. Now came the grueling work of iteration.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
Seiran frowned, gathered his materials, and opened it.
"Seiran, Lord Orochimaru requests your presence at his tent."
The messenger's tone was cautious. Since the battle, Seiran's standing in camp had solidified. Many saw him as an idol.
"I see," he replied quietly.
Convenient timing. He'd wanted to speak with Orochimaru anyway.
---
The tent flap pushed aside.
Orochimaru's eyes widened slightly at the sight of him.
"Seiran, there you are."
"I heard you were looking for me."
"Indeed." Orochimaru cleared his throat. "Sunagakure has sent an envoy with an armistice proposal."
Seiran wasn't surprised. Elder Chiyo played like a puppet, Rasa humiliated in combat, the One-Tail lost again—Suna would be foolish not to surrender now.
"You've earned considerable credit in this campaign," Orochimaru said, studying him with meaningful intent. "Though I'd advise caution moving forward."
The implication hung clear.
Seiran nodded, understanding perfectly.
Root? Or perhaps the Third Hokage himself?
The power he'd displayed would make the higher-ups nervous. Though Seiran couldn't read minds, he could guess—nothing but political maneuvering. His status as a branch family member added weight; it meant control.
What they didn't know was that the Caged Bird Curse Mark on his forehead had become little more than ornament.
The main family would have their own ideas too.
This problem needed solving soon. After the war ended, there was still so much to accomplish.
Seiran sighed quietly.
"By the way," he said abruptly, "do you have that soul-splitting technique of yours?"
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"I do. Though why you'd want it escapes me."
The Reanimation Jutsu he was developing would require soul-division methods, but perfecting it had proven elusive.
"Useful. I can trade for it."
"Seiran, you're too courteous. Your contributions to this war alone warrant far more than a single technique." Orochimaru laughed and opened his mouth, expelling a slimy scroll. Seiran pinched it between two fingers with visible distaste, then gave him a slightly teasing look.
"Orochimaru, have you ever considered transferring your soul into a body with greater potential?"
The snake lord froze. Then laughed nervously.
"I didn't expect you to see through it. Yes, I've entertained such thoughts. But..." He paused, studying Seiran carefully. "Your strength has already surpassed mine. It would be foolish to harbor such schemes regarding you."
"But here's a question," Seiran continued, smiling faintly. "If you moved to another's body, would you still be you?"
Orochimaru's eyes widened. The question hung in the air between them.
Seiran pressed on. "What if instead you cultivated a stronger body using your own as the foundation? You'd grow stronger while remaining yourself. You'd keep your continuity of self."
Something shifted behind Orochimaru's eyes. A spark igniting.
Cultivate a new body from your own body?
How? Through splitting? Cloning? Or...
Conception?
Eggs?
Could genetic screening select the most powerful sperm? What about eggs? The vessel?
Gender was irrelevant to immortality. Such trivial distinctions meant nothing against eternal life. And his research suggested women lived longer than men anyway.
Self-rebirth through nurturing could eliminate the contamination inherent in assuming another's flesh entirely. Embryos could be accelerated with nutrient solutions—age posed no obstacle.
I would give birth to myself?
Orochimaru's expression twisted into something between wonder and absurdity as he descended into thought.
Seiran shook his head, smiling, and stepped out into the night.