All rights to Naruto go to it's respective owners.
click! Hummmmm...
The old terminal's screen lit up, casting a very faint red light onto the dust-covered chair in front of it. Across the moniter, rapid sequences of numbers and file names began to run, along with commands for the system. The machine clunked and sputtered, attempting to execute it's primary function without lighting itself on fire or falling apart.
All across the room, the consoles and dashboards began to glow, life re-entering their dusty carcasses, the warmth of power flushing into their electronic veins. The single flourescent light in the room flashed once and popped, cascading sparks onto the concrete floor.
In front of the panels, a large glass tank filled with liquid began to hum. The object in the tank stayed immobile. Lights on the structure dimly awoke from their long sleep. One, more bright than others, was at the top of the tank. It read 'S. 371'.
The computer's screen went blank for nearly a minute, until one final command echoed across all systems.
Execute Activation Sequence.
The tank shot steam and coolent from the vents, as the hydraulic door controls attempted to wrench the front off the device. It was no use. Too much corrosion had been done. The tank's occupant opened it's eyes, frantically trying to understand it's situation. It began to panic, moving its arms around the container, pushing at the glass, until finally after a well thrown strike, the front panel shattered.
The subject slid out of the shattered container with a wave of greenish water-like fluid, landing on it's knees, supporting it's frome with both hands on the ground. The liquid disappeared into the metal grates that surrounded the tank. The occupant, still struggling for breath, still confused, grew weary from the steady thump of his adrenaline fueled heart. He gasped in air, leaned forward, and vomited.
as the bile washed away, down the drain, his mind subconsciously struggled to put the situation and pieces together.
Last he remembers, he was... Fighting. I was fighting. Fighting who?
A face flashed into his mind, but he couldn't quite grasp the name... His slender eyes, his pale skin, so... reptilian...
Orochimaru...
He recalled his name. In fact, he recalled his own. Naruto.
As Naruto struggled to understand his situation, his instincts kicked in. He knew the fight was over. He'd lost. That much was evident when Orochimaru had-
Naruto stopped, looking down at the metal, finely crafted hand and forearm where his left arm had been.
He tore my arm out of the socket...
He stared down at this new contraption attached to his shoulder. The small joints and moving parts, the glint it gave off in the low lighted room... His arm was gone. His arm...
He struggled to understand those four words, as his mind was flooded with questions. He looked up, noting the room he was in. He couldn't see it all, but knew he wasn't in Konoha. It was too dark, too... unsettling. It felt wrong to be here. He didn't feel safe. He looked back down.
Someone built a new arm and attached it... and put me here... My hair...
He'd just realized that his hair, once extending slightly past his ears, was now long enough to lay on the ground from his position, hunched down on all fours. He guessed that, if standing up, it might reach down to his rear. Naruto exhaled, and breathed in slowly, trying to slow his heart rate. After a short moment, he tried to stand. It took a lot of effort, and the use of his right hand to lift himself, but he staggered over to the main console. As he looked down at the screen, It slowly faded out, leaving him in darkness. He sighed.
Shit.
His right hand wandered down the desk, yanking on the drawers. The top was open, and inside, after a little digging, he found a windproof lighter. Flicking it on with suprising ease, he looked down at his left arm. He found that he'd been moving in subconsciously, like his other.
That's odd... prosthetics take effort to use...
He moved his metal hand, flexing the fingers and extending the arm. It didn't feel like a lifeless appendage or machine... it felt natural. The liquid dripping off the metal felt cold, and the lighter's flame felt warm, but when he held the flame under one of his fingers, there was no pain. He looked into the drawer and found a pencil, which he proceeded to smash down onto his left forearm. The wood and graphite splintered in all directions. Again, no pain.
That's new.
He placed the lighter into his left hand, and began to examine his surroundings. The room had incredibly powerful computer systems, seeing as how the only ones Naruto had ever seen were the ones in the Konoha Records and Information departments. The room was bare, and cold. The drawers were mostly empty, locked, or filled with useless office supplies. In a large metal file cabinet, however, Naruto found a sealed file with his name on it, and 'Subject 371'. Naruto tried to open it, but found he couldn't break the seal. In fact, he couldn't even mold chakra. There was no sign of the Fox either, and no way to enter his mindscape.
Whoever put me here probably placed a seal on me or the Fox's seal...
The last thought made sense. If someone had brought him here, as some subject, they probably wouldn't want his occupant to cause problems. Where was he? Why was this place so... abandoned? So empty? He made his way to the large, wooden door. There was a snake-like symbol on the door.
Orochimaru. That makes more sense.
Naruto had to admit, if he'd been defeated by Orochimaru, the man would probably want to study him, if not experiment on him. Naruto's genetic structure was fascinating, to say the least.
Past the door and into the hall, Naruto found many locked doors and empty rooms. Most contained scrolls and files that he didn't have the time to read. In one room he found a hospital bed, and an adjoining bathroom. In the bathroom, after lighting a wall sconce, he found a mirror than stretched from the floor to the ceiling. He was shocked.
He estimated that he stood about 6'2'' and was probably one hundred and fifty pounds. He was very under nourished. His hair was a dirty blonde, golden blonde mix, and it reached down past his backside. His face was unshaven, and he was quite surprised at the amount of beard he had. It was almost as long all over as Asuma's goatee.
Well, it's good to know puberty hit me like a Sannin.
His metal arm extended up to his shoulder, covering a bit of it. Then he noticed the glint at the bottom of the mirror. His right foot was metal, too. He looked away from the mirror, down at his foot. He was a bit too tired to freak out even more.
I don't remember losing my foot... but I did burn my leg pretty bad...
He lifted the long, slim black pants, the only clothing he wore, to show more than just a foot. The metal appendage met flesh at the knee, integrating into the joint. He hadn't noticed until now. Whoever had made these had made them to feel real. He lifted his foot to look at the bottom. There was some kind of hardened rubber zig zag tracks on the bottom, most likely for grip. That would explain why he hadn't heard the metal clank of his foot when he walked.
As he made his way through the maze of halls, he found the base was mostly empty. The only thing remaining were what appeared to be other... 'Subjects'... information and research, and simple equipment. If this place had been abandoned, it would have been looted by it's occupants, which explained the lack of valuable gear. If Orochimaru had been here, he'd have taken his research. So that meant his presence was absent to here, at least. As Naruto entered one of the last rooms, finding more scrolls, he'd found something interesting. It was a long footlocker buried under some scrap. He fidgeted with the lock, until he realized he could just smash it with his metal arm, which he did. Inside was a four foot long black rod. He picked it up, examining it. On the side it was laying on was a Kanji for a rather uncommon word.
Valentine.
He flipped it over, and as he did, the bottom fell out slightly, revealing a very sharp and very fine katana. Now Naruto was not a weapons expert, but he did know a bit, and he dealt with some famous weapons before. This sword was none he'd heard of, but was certainly interesting. The weapon's handle had no wrappings or grip, and was one foot in length, and the sheath, made from the same material as the handle, looked well worn, but in good shape. Almost as if it had been used as a club. The blade was... beautiful. It had to be the most pristine, well crafted, and sharp sword he'd ever seen. It curved ever so slightly as it neared the tip, like a nobleman's tanto or decorative traditional Katana. If the handle and sheath were any indication, this thing had seen combat. How it stayed so sharp and clean was a mystery. He sheathed the blade, opting to carry it with his new left arm rather than in his belt. If felt... good, in his hands. Almost natural. With his newfound blade, he moved further into the base.
After a short period of time, he found a sort of supply room, but it had chests marked with subject numbers. Most were empty, no doubt ransacked by the base's former occupants. His eyes scanned the room, hoping to find something useful. He found it. At the far left of the 20x20 room was a metal, rusted table. On the table was a box, marked with 371. Naruto approached the box and pried it open. Inside were his old things. His Hitai-ate was inside, the fabric torn. He picked it up, and ran a thumb over the metal, smiling slightly before pocketing the item. The rest of his gear was too small or damaged to keep. At the bottom of the pile was a brown bag. He pulled it out, and opened it. Inside was a simple, yet fine, brand new black jacket. The inside was lined with a dark orange, almost scarlet material. He put it on, as it was cold, and noted that it was a perfect fit. It had long sleeves, and a short collar that came up around three inches. The bottom of the jacket reached down to mid-calf. It almost felt tailor made.
If I've been in here for some time, I should've outgrown this arm, leg, and coat... this is very odd...
He decided to get the hell out before he found an answer he didn't like. With a turn, he walked swiftly from the room, his coat silently swaying behind him. He could tell the Hokage abput this place later. Right now, he wanted answers. He wanted an explanation.
He wanted to go home.