The rising sun pierced through the gaps in the hideout's entrance, illuminating the sterile room where Sarada's fate would be decided. The atmosphere was thick with tension and uncertainty, but also hope. Sarada, despite her current vulnerability, exuded an aura of determination. Her lineage as an Uchiha was evident in her resilience and courage.

Konohamaru, always the protective figure, was filled with a mix of pride and fear. "You're going to get through this, Sarada," he whispered, holding her gently, trying to reassure both of them. His gaze lingered on her determined face, hoping he was making the right decision by letting this proceed.

Sarada felt a tinge of ache in her chest knowing that she had to undergo this procedure due to her lack of skill. "Thank you forr being so helpful Konohamaru-Sensei, and I'm sorry I let this happen to me…"

Konohamaru shook his head sternly. "No Sarada! Don't think like that, it's my fault."

He hung his head low while clenching his fists. "I'm supposed to be your Sensei. Train you, Nurture you into becoming a better Shinobi. It's my fault, and I failed you."

Sarada felt a tear escape her eye hole. "Sensei please don't blame yourself. I should've—" She started, but was cut off by the sound of the door room opening.

Orochimaru, now fully draped in surgical attire, entered with a clinical calmness. "It's time," he stated simply, beckoning them to follow.

Konohamaru nodded and gently reached down and picked Sarada up, from the bed she was laying on. He turned slowly and whispered "It'll be okay."

Konohamaru's steps were heavy, each footfall echoing his rising anxiety. Holding Sarada, he could feel her heart rate increase, the rapid beats mirroring his own. But her face remained unyielding, focused on the task ahead.

Sarada tried to hold a lingering feeling of determination to see this through, although it was scary. Papa, I can't forgive myself if I can't uphold your legacy… Our clan's legacy, she inhaled deeply, all in attempts to shake her rising anxious feelings forming.

Reaching the door, Konohamaru gently set Sarada down. With a deep breath, he said, "Remember, be strong. I'm right here, waiting for you."

"Thank you, Konohamaru-sensei," Sarada whispered, her voice shaking but her spirit unwavering.

Karin, with her piercing eyes and soft demeanor, took Sarada's hand, guiding her into the heart of the operation room. Konohamaru watched them go, the weight of the situation pushing him into a seat outside, thoughts of Sasuke and Sakura, the repercussions haunting him. His face paled considerably thinking of being a victim of their wrath.

Inside, the room was a fusion of ancient scrolls and modern medical equipment. Karin and Orochimaru moved with practiced efficiency, prepping for the groundbreaking procedure. The eerie blue liquid held the newly created eyes, shimmering with promise and potential.

Sarada, taking in the smells of the room and familiar smell of a kind of preservation liquid, felt a pang of gratitude for Orochimaru's expertise. "You've made them so quickly... thank you."

Orochimaru, pausing for a moment, looked at Sarada with an unreadable expression. "Your body's acceptance is the next challenge. Be prepared for the unexpected."

She took a deep breath, nodding, "I am."

Karin came close to Sarada with a syringe and liquid inside. "We're going to put you to sleep for the procedure, get comfortable okay?"

Sarada felt slightly tense, she didn't particularly enjoy needles, but she relaxed her body nonetheless. "Okay I'm ready"

Karin bit her lip as a reaction to the maternal heartache she felt towards Sarada. She knew Sarada wasn't her daughter but she felt an attachment to her nonetheless.

"Don't worry, we're going to take care of you. It'll be over before you know!" Karin said reassuringly.

Sarada looked at Karin and nodded hesitantly then turned her gaze to the ceiling. I'm going to be alright. Konohamaru-Sensei is close-by, nothing bad is going to happen… right?

The Uzumaki woman had injected Sarada with the liquid in her left arm. As seconds went by, Sarada's mind felt lighter, feeling her body become lighter and soon — slumber welcomed her.

Orochimaru leaned in closer, his voice soft, "You're brave to trust me, Sarada. Remember that bravery when you wake, and don't thank me just yet." With that, The administered anesthesia had done its job, and Sarada's world faded to black, her future uncertain.

In the expanse of endless night, Sarada floated, surrounded by an abyssal serenity. The obsidian sea cradled her, whispering soothing lullabies that echoed of forgotten dreams and lost memories. The very core of her being hummed with calmness, though a seedling of curiosity sprouted within her heart. "Where am I?" she pondered, her thoughts resonating like a soft murmur in a boundless cathedral.

Yet, in the void, an undercurrent of another's essence rippled, hinting at an unseen presence. Alarmed, Sarada tried to bolt upright but found her movements sluggish, as though wading through dense fog. Trepidation edged her voice as she reached out, "Hello? Who's there?"

A mournful chuckle responded, tinged with resignation and shades of regret. "So, I'm truly gone... This is it then," the voice whispered, exuding both melancholy and a quiet acceptance of some tragic fate.

Puzzled, Sarada questioned the mysterious entity, "What do you mean? And where are we?"

The sigh that followed was long and weary, a testament to countless battles fought and lost. "We are in your mind, young Uchiha. I'm merely a fading echo, a vestige of what once was. A pity I couldn't use Kāma... but a part of me now lingers within you."

As realization dawned on Sarada, memories of her deal with Orochimaru surged forth, casting ripples across the still waters of her subconscious. She finally voiced the suspicion taking root in her mind. "You're an Ōtsutsuki?"

There was no laughter, no confirmation. Just a solemn nod, an acceptance of a legacy long forsaken. "Not anymore, child. Just ensure you harness the strength that now flows within you. Don't let my existence be in vain."

The shadowy presence began to disperse, fragments of it melting away into the void, but not before leaving her with a departing whisper, an echo of a bygone era, "So long."

As the last remnants vanished, Sarada, overcome with a myriad of emotions, placed a hand over her heart, feeling the rhythm, the pulse of the new power that lay within. With determination burning in her chest, she declared, "I promise, I won't let you down."

But before she could further reflect on the encounter, the obsidian world around her began to recede, replaced by an even deeper darkness, pulling her into the comforting abyss of unconsciousness.