The Sixth Shinobi War
Prologue:
Orochimaru laughed, his voice echoing against the moistered walls of his new forteress. Finally... After so many years of patience and perseverance, he had it. The true power.
He raised his hand to his face. A young, pure-white figure. He gently touched his eyes, caressed his cheeks. They were no longer thin as they used to be, and did not possess the snake-like markings that had always terrified his ennemies. No, his face was now full, young, his eyes beautifully almond-shaped.
His eyes. What power they now held... He would be unbeatable; all it took was training. And he had almost a life-time at his disposition...
His laughter faded, becoming a mere chuckle as the man's gaze settled upon his new servant, who was patheticly trembling. His thoughts changed course. That idiot, almost dirtying his pants in front of him, had no guts, no real loyalty, nothing. Only fear, and blind admiration was keeping him by his side, to obey his every wishes. That man was nothing, was puny, and he, Orochimaru, could find thousands like him.
Had thousands like him. Slaves, spies, servants, so many people that kept an eye in the Shinobi World for him. He knew every rumor in the Great Cities; he had intercepted every message travelling between the countries; he had already killed many Shinobies travelling alone. Killed them, or took them into his service.
An army; that was what he had. A loyal army ready to obey his every desires... Such as destroying Konoha. Burning it's very foundations. Killing them all.
His laughter echoed once again as he felt the glory burning through his bones.
Konoha...
As quietness settled back in the room, and as the servant stopped shaking, Orochimaru let his gaze fly westwards, out of the window, over the forest, to the land of his dreams... He smiled.
And that smile was a promise.