AN: Chapter title: A Nest of Snakes!
Perhaps it was due to his Summon of choice or perhaps it was from the extensive modifications he had done in the vein of emulating the beasts but Orochimaru found himself drawn to bask in the early morning sun. From time to time at least, he would leave his hideout and simply allow the warmth from the rays of the sun to embrace his current vessel, allow his chosen body a moment like this. His time was better spent occupied by other things but, for this moment at least, he found he could indulge.
What good was immortality without the ability to indulge in the time others would struggle to fill their finite lifespans with meaning?
Pale lips turned up in a smile at the thought.
Yes, the results of his unhindered research had been a number of techniques to prolong one's life, a number of processes he had already undergone in this body just like he had with the others across the years. Some were more basic, purely cosmetic to provide a familiar face in the mirror, to provide a similar enough body shape, the norm. He was stronger, faster, superior in so many ways to even his legendary teammates, his living legend of a teacher. He only continued to grow in power as others around him aged, grew weaker, grew more and more feeble from nothing but the passage of time.
They, unlike him, were helpless against such a thing.
This body was one of many for his soul to reside in, to make do until he could possess one more befitting of his soul's permanent presence.
One bearing the Dojutsu that would make his research all the easier, advance all the quicker with the abilities it would grant him.
'Patience. What matter is it to wait a few more months, a few years, decades if needed, to have what I desire?' He resisted the urge to lick his lips, to salivate at the thought of all that would be before him in such a short time. 'Patience. There's no need to rush this, not when I can have my pick.'
Sasuke, Itachi, it didn't matter which of them he would have to harvest. In the end, he wasn't picky. As long as they followed the path of their ancestors, of Madara and Izuna, he would have what he wanted from the last of the Uchiha. As long as one killed the other in their clash to suffer death by his hands. All that mattered would be the end result of such a battle.
What mattered was the completion of the Dojutsu he desired above all else.
The Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan, the last secret of the Uchiha Clan: Eyes with a light that would never fade, eyes that would hold the power he desired. Such a Dojutsu was befitting an immortal like himself.
The same power that had given Madara Uchiha the might to control the Kyubi itself, to face the might of the legendary Hashirama Senju in battle again and again, to prolong his life as long as he had. The power of such eyes would be his. Once he had eyes of such power, had his final body at last complete, he would make short work of Jiraiya's delusional student. He would provide the mercy of death he should've done on that day so long ago, struck before Jiraiya could indulge in such a foolish notion as teaching, and take the eyes that had allowed the boy the power to prop up the flawed ideal he so tirelessly championed. He would take the next step in his ascension with such an act. With not only the pinnacle of the Sharingan but the eyes of one who so poorly made use of the power of legend, he would truly be not only immortal but rise above the limits of humanity itself.
He would be a God with the world itself as his own.
With that awaiting him, what did he truly stand to lose in allowing the two to play their game of clan honor and destined battle? It was only right for a God to allow mortals to play their games, allow them to fill their pointless lives with a false sense of meaning, that their finite existence mattered.
He was such a benevolent God after all.
The presence behind him didn't earn a glance.
"Lord Orochimaru."
One third of the group collectively known as the Sannin made no move to answer. It was unneeded, Kabuto knew he was listening to every word, had been well aware of his progress up to the roof since he had begun his journey from the labs down below.
"I have the information you've requested on the prisoners. Of the ones brought here, seventeen of them met your criteria. With the three captured yesterday and those already brought here, that brings the number up to thirty-three. Just as you originally estimated."
Once more, a smile came to his face. The news was expected but he had Kabuto conduct his own review of the records to be sure.
"Forgive me for asking, but why bother bringing them here?" Kabuto stepped closer, he didn't need to look at the gray-haired Shinobi to know he was curious, confused, likely had a dozen questions burning in his mind. "All of them are upwards of their fifties, some of them in their sixties or even seventies. The amount of resources we stand to expend on them to do as you wish is nothing short of astronomical. Half of them are already unlikely to survive the initial modifications you've planned for them. Of the half that would survive, my examinations show that less than a quarter will be able to survive any more than the third stage of what you propose. Pass that, I can't even promise one will see the process you've designed through to the end."
Orochimaru said nothing. He merely continued to look out over the Land of Sound, the once Land of Rice Fields he had made his own such a short time ago.
Kabuto waited for an answer.
He earned laughter instead.
"My, my Kabuto, you've learned so much and yet you've managed to learn so little. If I didn't know you better, know your limitations, I would be disappointed in you." Orochimaru at last turned to face his pupil, the boy he had spent so much time on teaching. Golden eyes didn't hold fury or disregard, they were amused when they turned to him. He looked upon him as if he was a child, as if he was nothing but a little boy asking his father if the rain was the sun crying, or a boy scared of imagined monsters under his bed. "In your diagnosis, you fail to account for one thing: The human spirit." His smile only grew at the disbelief on the boy's face, the outrage at such a thing.
He sometimes forgot to account for Yakushi's lack of knowledge in some areas, his lack of experience as a child in a time of relative peace.
Perhaps due to his upbringing, the tragedies that had accompanied him throughout his life, his student was perhaps a bit too quick to dismiss the inherent resiliency of the human spirit.
Of how hot rage could burn when given ample fuel.
"It's unlikely any of those men will die from what I intend to do. They've already spurned death for so long for what they seek, this will be nothing. Their hatred, their rage, the dark desire they hold in their hearts, it will allow them to endure all of what I have planned for them and so much more." One look at Kabuto told him he didn't understand, didn't truly see the opportunity this all presented. "Those men I've had you gather, they're all that's left of one of Konoha's old enemies: Kagero Village."
Once he spoke the name, Kabuto's face was one of realization.
For one so well-versed in espionage, in information gathering, it would have been disappointing if he didn't.
If nothing else, the surprise attack was a master stroke of deception, of a fatal blow to a foe. It deserved to be studied, should aimed to be replicated by anyone planning to strike a decisive blow.
"That still doesn't make sense." Kabuto tried to understand the thoughts of his master to no avail. They were as foreign to him as a message written in an unknown code. He could try to understand the jumbled words, decipher the message, but without the knowledge, the cipher, he would fail again and again. "Kagero Village was destroyed over thirty years ago. What good are Shinobi from it? If you desire a mission completed, I could personally lead the Sound Four, lead a different squad. Anyone else, even the Genin we have here, would be better than relying on these men."
"The mission I have in mind is perfect for them Kabuto." Golden eyes returned to the view beyond the roof, to the Land of Fire, to the distant village that still smoldered from the attack he had been the mastermind of. "But, if you desire to be of use, I do have an assignment for you."
Kabuto merely bowed his head, awaited his orders.
Orochimaru smiled even if he didn't see it. He knew his apprentice too well, knew how he would behave nearly without fail.
Kabuto was always eager for guidance from another, to follow the path laid in front of him instead of forging his own.
"I'll be returning to the Hidden Leaf in a short while." Orochimaru chuckled, a twisted expression taking hold of his visage. "Before that, I'll need to bypass the Sensing Barrier in place. If Sarutobi-sensei has any sense, he'll have redesigned it or at least plan to. You'll be responsible for infiltrating the village. Keep me aware of any changes they make. Once my plan begins, I can't afford to be distracted with killing Shinobi."
"I'll see to it." Kabuto moved to head back down, likely return to one of the labs before he prepared to depart.
"You don't have to go immediately Kabuto. You won't be of any use if you don't know more of what I have planned." Orochimaru at last turned to face him. He smiled. "Before you leave, I think you should see these men you're so quick to cast aside. Consider it a practical example from our conversation."
He headed down ahead of him, bid Kabuto to follow with a wave of his hand.
The Snake Sage already knew where his selected prisoners were being held.
He dismissed the two gray clad Shinobi serving as guards, bid Kabuto to remain near the door as he stepped into one of the many holding areas within the building.
It warmed his heart that so many recognized him, that their eyes burned with hatred, with rage, at the visage before them.
He was sure, if any of them had weapons, had the strength to act against the marks binding their Chakra and bodies, they would act. Not a single one of them would hesitate to throw away their lives in a futile bid for revenge.
It helped to know his work was remembered, that his participation in such an attack hadn't been forgotten.
He had been so thorough back then, had allowed himself the chance to indulge his bloodlust without restraint.
"Come now, there's no need for such looks." Orochimaru smiled as he came to a stop within the cell. Killing Intent, the sheer desire to see those before him dead, filled the room yet did nothing to disturb the old men within. They didn't shake in fear, didn't avert their eyes.
The results of his experiment only made his smile widen.
"Wonderful. You all seem to be committed to your hatred, committed to this loathing you hold towards me." He observed the men in the cell, those who could not dare to release their hatred, who could not allow themselves to be freed from their rage. It had poisoned them as much as it had sustained them over the years, left them nothing but husks of what they had once been.
A part of him wondered if Kabuto would take any notes during his observation, perhaps understand what he had been trying to tell him.
Human nature, the lengths one would go survive, the depths human beings would sink to, was simply a fascinating subject.
"Even if you are terribly misguided." He examined the ones who couldn't stand, who leaned against the wall. They would need to undergo a different initial procedure, bring their entire body up to the current standard. The drugs he had in mind would be unbearable for any other, would be something they all would endure with what he could promise them.
"I was not the one who ordered the attack. My teacher, Hiruzen Sarutobi, chose to destroy your village, considered it a necessary sacrifice he would give the dignity of grieving once your families and friends laid slaughtered in their homes." He didn't bother with an expression of false sympathy.
These men were too blind to spend the effort.
"He honors your people, your loses, by giving the Hidden Leaf an age of prosperity. That village enjoys its wealth while the cost was paid for in the blood of Kagero Village." He observed those who obviously lived with pain, poorly healed injuries from battles long in the past. He had dealt with such things before, considered them easy to deal with.
Far less entertaining.
One of the men was missing his leg, another missing several fingers. Those would prove more interesting. A number of prosthetics could be made for them, designed for whatever task they would need to complete in the future. They wouldn't need to function for life, only for destruction.
"I can offer you all the chance to change that prosperity, that wealth, into a fate that village has long been deserving of." He could already tell his offer would be accepted, would provide these husks with a last gasp of vigor before the end, allow them to soothe their long-spurned honor, gift them the pride they had forsaken in order to survive.
"My offer comes with power, the strength of your youth magnified to a level you would never have known. The power to battle against even the God of Shinobi, to kill him if you have the chance. You'll have the chance to reclaim what time has taken from you, have the chance to make those responsible pay. The luxury they enjoy now, the splendor they live in, will turn to ash with the power you stand to gain from me."
He observed the scars left by nothing but time, the marks of age on their bodies.
Yet their eyes had remained the same even over all this time. The dark light of malice, of wrath, that black flame of hatred, had never dimmed no matter the passage of years since that slaughter, of the decades between his last meeting with a majority of them.
"Of course, if any of you wish to live, continue on in this miserable life for a few more years, I'll hold nothing against you. You'll be free to return to wherever you come from." He gave those before him a glance, observed how none moved.
None would.
It wasn't in the nature of these hardly living husks to toss away what he was offering, the retribution his words promised.
None of the men here failed to understand what it would cost, the depths of agony they would experience by his hands.
Yet none moved.
The pain he promised was the cost for the power they had so long desired, would serve as the tool to enact their long-awaited retribution on their enemies.
Why would they forsake such a thing?
Why toss away this chance, their only chance, for revenge?
It was part of their nature, that flawed human nature of all but himself, that made them desire things so far above their station.
In a way, it was only proper for one as himself to gift them such power.
The nature of a God to give to his subjects.
His smile widened.
It was so rare to have so eager test subjects, one so driven to survive his experiments. Even those chosen to be part of the Hidden Sound's façade didn't have a perfect survival rate, so many had come to him already weak and unmotivated to grow stronger themselves. But these men? They had resisted death already, had denied themselves a life past where it had ended thirty years ago. There was nothing that was worthwhile to them beyond this, would draw all of their being into surviving his modifications.
"I would imagine we have a deal then?"