The wind was calm, though the tension in the air was palpable. The standoff between Yami, Sasuke, and Orochimaru was nothing short of ominous, as though the world itself held its breath. Rei was safely behind the house, her gaze steady on the men preparing to clash. She knew this would be different from anything Yami had ever done before.
For the past three years, Yami had lived by a self-imposed vow. He swore never to use his Jutsu again—never to rely on the power he had cultivated, the techniques that made him an unstoppable force. But today, seeing the danger his family was in, the threat of Orochimaru and the silent but dangerous presence of Sasuke… that vow was shattered.
Yami stood tall, his body tense as he stared down the two men in front of him. His once serene and composed demeanor now radiated a dark, untamed energy. The air around him began to shift, a ripple of energy like a tremor in the earth. The temperature seemed to drop, and the wind began to howl, responding to the surge of power rising within him.
Behind his eyes, the familiar presence of the pact he had forged long ago began to stir. His lips parted slightly as his hands moved to his sides, fingers twitching with barely contained energy. A deep growl echoed from the depths of his chest, reverberating through the air as he silently called forth the demon bound to him by blood and will.
The ground beneath his feet cracked, and the once smooth surface of his skin began to shift, warping and twisting with the demonic energy coursing through him. It was a process, one that had been long in the making. A pact between man and demon was not something to be taken lightly—especially when it was a demon as ancient and powerful as the one Yami had bound himself to.
A dark shadow spread across his body, his muscles bulging as a chilling, malevolent presence enveloped him. His body seemed to shrink for a moment, then expand, twisting in a way that made him appear both larger and more terrifying. His skin darkened, taking on a deep, ashen hue, while jagged, bone-like armor began to form around his body, covering his arms, legs, and torso in a grotesque, yet powerful, shell of demonic plating. The armor gleamed with an eerie black light, akin to the cursed aura of the Hollow forms from another world. The hollow-like mask began to form across his face, wrapping his lower jaw, a jagged, sharp feature of obsidian that gave him the appearance of a terrifying demonic warrior.
His eyes turned an unnatural gold, glowing with an otherworldly intensity, while deep cracks began to form along his skin, as if his very form was shattering the limits of what was human. His energy surged, and with it, the world seemed to tremble around him. His shoulders broadened, and his once-slim frame became a towering embodiment of raw power.
A low, guttural roar echoed from Yami's throat as his transformation reached its peak. His demonic form was like a hybrid between the Hollow and a powerful, otherworldly creature—a being forged from the darkness itself. Long, tattered wings, black as night, unfurled from his back, stretching wide and casting a shadow over the battlefield. The demonic energy surrounding him began to warp the very air, distorting the space around him.
This was the power of Dēmonsouru—a fusion with the demon bound to his soul.
Sasuke and Orochimaru both froze at the sight. Orochimaru's eyes widened in disbelief, a flash of concern crossing his face as he realized just how dangerous Yami truly was. Sasuke's usual confidence faltered slightly, his Sharingan swirling in reaction to the overwhelming energy radiating from Yami. This was no ordinary opponent. This was something else entirely.
Yami's lips curled into a twisted grin, revealing elongated canines like those of a predator. His voice, now distorted and unnatural, echoed in the air. "This… is what happens when you push me too far."
Before either Sasuke or Orochimaru could react, Yami was gone. He moved with such speed that even their trained eyes couldn't follow him. It was as if the air itself had bent around him, making him a blur of black and gold. In the next instant, Yami's fist connected with Sasuke's chest with an impact so strong that the sound of it echoed across the mountain.
The force of the blow sent Sasuke hurtling backward, his body crashing into a nearby mountain with the force of a meteor strike. The ground trembled as he collided with the rock face, leaving a deep crater where he landed. Rocks and debris exploded outward, and the impact shook the surrounding forest to its core. Sasuke was momentarily lost to the darkness, his body limp and crumpled, but his Sharingan still flickered as he struggled to rise.
Orochimaru, watching in stunned silence, narrowed his eyes and prepared to strike. He wasn't foolish enough to underestimate Yami, but he wasn't about to back down either. In a flash, he moved forward, aiming a deadly strike at Yami's side. However, Yami was faster—infinitely faster. Before Orochimaru could even land his blow, Yami's hand shot out like a blur, catching Orochimaru's wrist mid-strike with an iron grip.
Orochimaru's eyes widened in shock as Yami's fingers dug into his wrist, preventing him from completing his attack. The strength in Yami's grip was unyielding, almost suffocating. Orochimaru's attempt to pull back was futile. Yami's gold eyes locked onto his, and in the next instant, he palm-struck Orochimaru's stomach with a force that sent the rogue ninja reeling.
The impact was brutal. Orochimaru's body was thrown backward, but before he could regain himself, Yami was already there again. With a ferocity that seemed to defy logic, Yami struck Orochimaru's stomach again, and again, and again, each strike faster than the last. The sound of his fists connecting with flesh was a rapid-fire succession—3440 strikes per second. Orochimaru's body jerked with each blow, his chest gasping for air as the strikes continued to rain down on him.
With each hit, Orochimaru's body began to show signs of wear. Blood spilled from his mouth as he struggled to heal, but Yami's relentless assault kept him from recovering. The power behind every strike was overwhelming—Orochimaru's regenerative abilities, once formidable, were no match for the brutal, unrelenting speed of Yami's onslaught.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Yami's last strike landed with a deafening crack, sending Orochimaru flying through the air, his body slamming into the ground with enough force to shatter the earth beneath him. He struggled to push himself up, his body trembling from the effort, but it was clear he was barely hanging on. His eyes were glazed with exhaustion, and his breathing ragged.
Yami stood over him, the dark energy still crackling around his body, his form towering and menacing. He looked down at Orochimaru with cold, unfeeling eyes, his voice a low growl. "This is your end."