The sun burned down, peering from behind the blue veil of a cloudless sky, washing the parched desert wasteland in a brilliant white light. The resultant glare rose off the flat sun charred surface of the Earth in a wet shimmer of blistering heat, filled the gaps between cliff faces and the solitary outcroppings of ancient limestone that were the areas sole distinguishing features. The sharply etched monoliths of rock and stone that dotted the land stood erect and forever unmoving underneath the blazing heat of the sun casting titanic shadows over the landscape and bathing the land below in a daylight false darkness.
It was there among those archaic sentinels carved within the face of one of the great mountainous outcrops, barely visible even to the most trained of eyes, an entry way could be found leading to a destination mostly unknown. Pillars sculpted into the ancient mountain stone supported the partial roofing of aged ceramic shingles that held cover over the steps to an opening into the depths of both rock and earth.
Purposely hidden, weathered, and left unkempt its dusty entrance provided a path to a single corridor that stretched long and far and deep beneath the planet. So far that the eternal whipping of the desert winds faded to little more then a memory and the incurable amount of sand and dust that settled upon every surface ceased to be a problem.
The deep passage was dimly lit by a series of small chakra infused seals of lighting that were scattered along the ceiling in uniformed succession. Each was separated a meter and a half apart from the last, illuminating the treacherously deep corridor in a bored shade of faded white that mixed with the acrid air; reflecting off the dirty and smudged tiles on the floor the contaminated light would filter and reflect outward shading the dank corridors in a fouled green hue.
The air within was hot, heavy and oddly tangible, bearing down on any trespasser. Like an invisible blanket seemingly wrapping itself around a passerby, casting an unseen weight on their shoulders and saddling them with a newfound sense of unease that grew in its magnitude the further one continued. The air tasted of chemicals. Of what origins; a task even an Inuzaka would fail at. Too much used, too many tested; each and every one of them as deceptively deadly as the lingering scents that wafted through the fragile air in the room, burning the sensitive lining of the nose when inhaled. With reckless abandon and maddening science to justify their use they contaminated the air; a translucent film that soiled the skin and aroused the darker thoughts of the imagination.
This was the Northern Hideout, satellite campus of people of the Hidden Sound village. The name itself seemed strangely taboo to those who knew of its existence. More so to those who had the terrible misfortune to catch a glimpse of the terror which it withheld from the world. It was those truths buried within the core of the earth, hidden behind faceless walls and monstrous cliff sides that scarred the minds of those who had the unfortunate luck of peering within its mighty hollow.
It is within the depth of the mountain, far from sight, under the guise of refuge; forever forgotten, yet never truly known to begin with that a room was carved and a single door stood.
(xXx)
These dreams would be the death of him…
"You know that once you undertake this mission you are sworn to a lifetime…"
His eyes slowly opened as the tumultuous event known as 'dreaming' began to calm, the last shredded images and un-synced audio coming to a slow as his mind began to settle. The events of the past rolling themselves slowly to a stop as the mental fog that had settled in began to dissipate
"I understand now… I understand everything…"
It had been a while…a long while since…then?
...
When?
He cringed as a sharp pain suddenly streaked its way across his mind. Thinking…to think…to think was to be in suffering was all he could surmise as he rested his head back against the wall.
"That dream of yours…will…fruition…"
He turned his head to his side, his weary eyes barely observant, taking in the darkness around him before the muscles in his neck gave way to the weight of his head as it came crashing down slowly before halting and his head landing softly against the cool metallic touch that embraced his heated flesh sending a calming euphoria through him as his tired eyes slowly closed themselves once more.
"Yes…Hokage…"
It was warm, the air dry, arid, as he took a shaky breath in before releasing it was a pained exhale. Though his eyes were closed and his mind teetering on the fine line of a mental coma he could still sense the environment around him. It was a byproduct of his ninja training; sensei had once told him:
"The environment isn't always what it seems. Never fully trust your senses less you be deceived and your life forfeit. Feel the environment and look underneath the underneath."
He'd brushed it off at the time barely listening as he filed it away in the back of his mind. His sensei may have thought him a fool and ignorant of the fact, but truth of the matter was he had already known as much. It was too basic, too obvious not to know. It was a cardinal rule, if you will, that was preached to him since the day he'd been passed the mantle of Shinobi.
That glorious day…
"…we have embraced you…you have become our…"
He winced as another bout of pain ripped its way through his head. The harder he thought and what little he began to remember, the hotter the white flashes of pain branded itself on his brain, scorching the very folds of his mind with a blistering sting.
Shinobi, his mind rolled the term over in his fatigued state. Though his body was shutting down he came to the realization early on in life that his mind took its time to follow suit.
What did the term mean to him? Was this experience, this occupation worth the mental and physical anguish he was currently undertaking? The dedication of mind, life, body and soul to a thankless profession; where your life became nothing more then a number; a statistic for the village to govern and use at their own discretion.
Was it worth it? Was he worth it?
Am I?
He was beginning to hyperventilate as the fragility of life began to settle in and the full scope of his actions slowly began to come back to him.
The presence of his own mortality
A thin sheen of sweat formed at the top of his brow, his muscles tweaked and spasm in pain and the heaviness of his temporarily forgotten exhaustion once more began to settle in.
Training…training! Remember your training!
Breathe…breathe…breathe…calm down…
He had walked this line before. The tight rope of decision; held his life in the palm of his hand; balanced his soul on the tips of his fingers. They were mortal effects, he had come to realize, possessions meant to be kept safe from the harshness of his chosen profession. And yet with the reckless abandon of a child and the callous ease of a trained professional he thrust them into the forefront of danger.
Deep breath in…exhale…slowly…
Yesss…his mind resounded in turn, answering the lingering doubts and smothering it under the weight of his conviction that came to him in scattered bits and pieces at a time…
His conviction…
What was it again? He could've sworn that he was missing something…Something big…his purpose… Yet the more he probed the delicate outlay of his mind the more the gentle throbbing in his forehead began to make itself apparent. Slowly, at first, the pounding began to increase in a multiplicative manner of great fervor as his continual meditation on the subject did little in terms of solving the mystery and relaying him an answer he already knew yet couldn't recall. In its stead his journey to realization earned him nothing more then a partial memory here and a faded thought there and little else aside from the painful reward of a bone splitting ache that divided itself down the center of his skull…
A face...
A name...
A deed...
A purpose…
The more he probed the deeper the blister on his mind seemed to ache as an agonizing void of pure mental synapse failure ripped and clawed at the delicate flesh of his brain, a condition he knew could be counter productive.
He focused on his breathing…
Training…! Remember!
He wanted to let his arms fall to his sides. He wanted to lie down on his back and rest but the clamp on his neck and the vice on his wrists restrained him from such comforts. He could lean himself to the side, almost resting his head on his shoulder before the slack in the short chain tightened and would extend no further.
But he didn't seem to care…the chain around his neck, the vice around his wrists and the large empty room in the darkness. No…his eyes came crashing down as his mind and body once more began to shut down…
No more thinking…no more thinking…
"Finish them…"
These dreams would be the death of him.
(xXx)
Kabuto strode the barren halls with a repetitious knowing. His steps were fast but unhurried; confident in their stride, knowing full well the out lay of the labyrinth that housed some of the more 'vile' beings this planet would never dare hope to see.
Creations…whether by malfunctions in the natural process or mechanical pestering of human hands; vile was the only term fit enough to describe the beings that were locked away within this mountainous retreat of the Sound.
He had been here a thousand times over the course of his servitude under his serpentine overlord's vigilant gaze, an overseer of sorts. Aside from being the recognizable second in command amongst the hierarchy of the Sound, he was first and foremost the chief of medical operations and developmental studies aside from his clandestine operations within the walls of the Hidden Leaf itself.
'So formal,' he mused pondering over the title as his near noiseless descent into the northern hideout took its final turn.
Yakushi Kabuto had overseen every operation (if they could be called that) on every 'patient', once again another term to be used lightly, that the lord Orochimaru's twisted mind had devised as well as some of his own individual experiments.
From the extravagance of the disease and study of one of Orochimaru's more favored subjects in the last dying scion of the Kaguya in Kimimaro. To the sire of the 'juin' curse seal in Juugo; Kabuto had seen one side of terror and delved into its forbidden breast before traversing across the perverse depths to experience the other. It was truly something remarkable and awe inspiring to be apart of, at least in the eyes of deranged and demented.
And yet of all those meant nothing today. Nothing could surmount the potential that had been provided to them just a few short days ago.
His rhythmic pacing stopped, as he gazed now upon a newly furnished cell door in front of him. The large steel barrier was an ominous sight to behold as darks strokes of thick chakra laced ink were etched and purified into various signs and symbols on either side of the seams of the door's frame. Evil restraint seals placed on in a feeble attempt to contain evil should evil happen to awake.
There was a hitch in his throat, his breath fumbling before rolling out from his mouth in a quivering sigh.
Of all the 'experiments', the operations, the evils he had seen come and go, live and die, grow and fester, this one now, the potential that lay hidden behind this door, was something monumentally greater then anything he had witnessed past and present.
Then again, potential was merely scientific hope.
He fished in his pocket for a group of keys, sliding them out and reaching for the barred handle of the cell door. Slowly with a tentative hand he began the unlocking process.
There were six reinforced locks on this particular door. Each massive in its own right taking up a bit more then the size of the average man's hand in width in diameter, they lined the right hand side of the door separated roughly 3 inches from the last in vertical succession.
They were crude in design but effective nonetheless.
A rather overzealous security measure, but then again, it housed a being likened to a god of mythos pending on how one viewed the situation. He took his time, fitting each of the individual keys to their designated slot before turning firmly and listening for the distinct loud, clack, as one portion of the lock would be undone thusly freeing up the next, which would require a completely different key but produce the same result.
It was a rather pointless and mundane task to note Kabuto had mentally thought, fitting in the last key to its socket just below the knee cap, but it provided another docket to a sense of personal worth too him and if nothing more then that was all Kabuto sought to achieve in everything.
Everything…
It was with the final 'click' that the unlocking was done. He firmly gripped the weathered handle with his free hand, placing the keys back within the fold of his pocket, before pulling firmly, easing the weighted monster of a door open allowing for a small glimmer of light to seep in from behind the door and into the darkened chamber of his next celebrated task.
It was the time of confrontation.
(xXx)
At first it was the steady chain of clicks and clanks that roused the weary Nin from his dreamless reprieve from reality. These new sights and sounds provided to him were probably ever present before hand but just came to fruition to his body at this moment of reawakening as he slowly tilted his head to the side and opened a single eye, just enough, too see the latest event. His gaze had drifted to the far wall as the metallic locking agents on the door he had previously ignored began to slowly unhinge themselves.
Slowly the gigantic claws that bound the giant door shut unlocked till the final one rocked back into the open position and the door was steadily pulled out of its frame, its noiseless self reverting revealing a rather plain looking young man.
His hair, a dirty shade of whitish grey, was disheveled and unkempt, the bangs of which were only held out of his face by the forehead protector that was strapped firmly against his forehead, supporting his bangs and framing his dull and plain features.
His face was largely indistinguishable, merely one of a man from another place in which he hadn't been and never cared to notice. He was another nameless person that populated the planet with neither fame nor infamy to distinguish it from the rest. The sole defining feature of him was a simple pair of round spectacles; a boring man to look at.
But then a strange sense overtook him…
It was known simply as realization…
He knew this man…his face…
From where though? That thought alone more often then not was enough to send him mind spiraling in disarray had the situation been…normal…but then again now…
It didn't truly matter; but then again…It DID.
His reality was shot and without a moments hesitation or remembrance to what he had done, seen, thought, known or even thought he knew was thrown completely out of the equation.
This was reality…
Panic began to well up in him as his body started to react to his encroaching 'company.' His head no longer as heavy or uninteresting as he soon began to thrash about, his mind focusing purely on one train of thought and the multitude of questions it entailed.
Fear…
Who was this? Where was he? What had happened?
The throaty roar that escaped from the pit of his gut voiced his concern and trepidation as it resonated into a hollow echo within his ears causing the young transient to hold his ground and gaze up at him, his glass covered eyes held just within the shade of the light to cause a thin sheen to reflect upon them, blocking his eyes from view.
His stalwart face, carved of stone, set emotionless as his obvious analysis of him remained unmoving.
(xXx)
Kabuto's steely gaze was wired to the sight in front of him. His expression masked the worm of unease that coiled in his gut as he and his gaze remained deceptively unflinching under the fretted scrutiny of the cell's tenant.
He was gazing into the heart of terror itself…for the most part. Its mortal avatar as it should be known, was bound and chained to the wall. Its body draped in frayed and tattered clothing, constricted by a series of solid steel bindings that added more then their fair share of weight of discomfort to his holdings. Each link painted in a chakra enriched ink designed to hold, even if just a fraction, of his power in check should circumstances get out of hand.
A modern day image of 'restriction' as he lay strapped and struggling vehemently against his confines. Each clank of the metal that surrounded him against the cement wall he once laid upon sending an eerily sweet chiming echo resonating off the walls of the room.
Kabuto stole a tentative step, previously in the center of the room, now bathed in the small portion of light provided by the small light bulb overhead, till he came within a breath's distance of his bound guest.
His innards were twisted. A strange sense of fear, awe, and excitement, were wound so undeniably tight in him that the slightest hitch in his breath may cause him to lose any sense of self control he was maintaining at the present moment.
Where to start…
Formalities…
"A fine day today isn't it Naruto?"
(xXx)
a/n: Its been almost 3 years since I last touched this story, 4 years since I last updated. Just making the rounds and editing. No promises on anything just following my interests as they arise.
-ark12