Orochimaru’s Magic Lamp

The Third Hokage was truly surprised.

He had always believed in Orochimaru's abilities, but even he hadn't expected this—forcing Kumogakure to retreat using such a method.

Not only had the Fourth Raikage been shaken, but now even the Third Hokage had to re-evaluate Orochimaru's strength.

A single snake may not seem threatening… but a swarm of them? That's something else entirely.

Impatiently, the Third Hokage wanted to understand the current relationship between Orochimaru and Ryūchi Cave.

If Orochimaru could truly command an army of snakes at will, then Ryūchi Cave's military power would need to be considered in future strategic plans.

That, in fact, was the real purpose of this meeting.

Orochimaru already had an idea of what the Third wanted and simply responded with a sly smile:

"I'm not going back just yet. You can tell the old man this incident with Kumogakure was just me stepping up and doing a little favor.

If it had been an actual war... then yes, I could have summoned thousands of snakes."

"But the snakes of Ryūchi Cave aren't like the toads of Mount Myōboku. They don't offer their strength freely or without gain."

In truth, even the toads that had aided Jiraiya only did so as a calculated investment—for greater benefits later on.

Jiraiya, startled by the comment, immediately asked:

"Then how is it that Kabuto Yakushi was able to break free from the restrictions of the summoning contract so easily?

If your bond with Ryūchi Cave is that deep, shouldn't it be impossible?"

This was likely something Hiruzen Sarutobi had wondered as well. After all, if Orochimaru could call upon Ryūchi Cave, their relationship had to be more than just surface-level.

Orochimaru chuckled darkly. "What are Manda and the three Snake Princesses compared to the White Snake Sage?"

He glanced at Jiraiya and gestured upward.

"The White Snake Sage is the true ruler of Ryūchi Cave.

Let's be honest—can you even get the Great Toad Sage to clearly explain that vague prophecy of his?"

"I… I…" Jiraiya hesitated, then sighed.

Orochimaru shifted his gaze to Tsunade and added:

"Instead of wasting time on this, why don't you lend Tsunade a hand? Help her finish what I need the village to handle."

Tsunade crossed her arms and groaned, clearly exhausted.

"Orochimaru's right. I'm short on hands right now."

"Fine. I'll talk to the old man," Jiraiya replied with a wry smile.

Meanwhile, in a damp cave in the Land of Rain...

Obito sat on a boulder, roasting a bear paw over a fire while listening to Zetsu's report.

"…That about sums it up. That's the life history of Kabuto Yakushi," Zetsu said, half of his body emerging from the ground.

"Orochimaru may have hidden some details, but the essentials should be accurate. Danzo's reaction confirmed it."

As Zetsu had predicted, after Root was attacked, no one wanted answers more than Konoha. To investigate, he had used spore jutsu to secretly implant tiny 'seeds' onto Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado.

To avoid detection by Orochimaru or Jiraiya, Zetsu even placed the spores in their stomachs—retrieving them later through their feces.

All that trouble, just to get fast and accurate intel on Kabuto.

Obito sprinkled some seasoning over the meat, took a bite, chewed slowly, then finally said:

"I see."

"Any other orders?" Zetsu asked.

"You're not planning to recruit him into Akatsuki?" Zetsu tilted his head.

Obito swallowed the meat and replied flatly:

"I can't."

Kabuto's tragic past resembled his own, but that didn't mean they could relate. Unless he revealed his own history, they'd never connect—and Obito had no intention of doing that. The risk was too high, and expecting mutual understanding was naive.

"So all that work was for nothing?"

Black Zetsu remained unreadable, but White Zetsu grumbled. Even though he'd been curious about the experience of defecation, the actual task had been anything but pleasant.

"It wasn't wasted. Keep tracking Kabuto's movements."

Obito tossed aside his wooden fork and vanished into a swirling vortex.

"This guy…" Zetsu muttered before sinking into the earth.

In Amegakure, the Village Hidden in the Rain...

Dark towers loomed under constant drizzle, their silhouettes cold and lonely despite their numbers.

Obito stood on one of the spires, rain soaking into his cloak, his gaze fixed on the tallest central tower.

After a while, he disappeared again—this time reappearing in a far less prominent building nearby.

Deep underground, in a dim and silent chamber, a red-haired man lay on a wooden bed—crippled and weak, eyes closed, more statue than man.

Click!

The soft sound of footsteps echoed like a bell in the still chamber.

"Madara? I told you not to come here."

The red-haired man—Nagato—opened his eyes, staring at Obito's mask. His voice was faint, but carried a bite.

He called him "Madara," not out of belief, but as a title.

"I have something important to discuss," Obito said.

"If it's something you want, you should speak to me instead."

That voice came from behind: Yahiko—now the puppet body of the Deva Path, controlled by Nagato himself.

Obito's Sharingan glinted. The Uzumaki chosen by Madara is more powerful than expected… and more fragile too. He has to use his friend's body to trick himself into staying strong. Into believing he's a "god."

As Nagato closed his eyes again, Obito didn't push. He turned toward Yahiko's body and spoke calmly:

"I've just received word—Konoha's Root has been destroyed."

The news delay was understandable. Amegakure, closed off from the outside world, always lagged behind.

Nagato's eyes snapped open. He didn't speak, but it was Yahiko's body that asked:

"Who was responsible?"

Nagato had lost everything—his body, his friends. Apart from Hanzo, the other source of that suffering had been Danzo.

"Funny enough," Obito smirked, "It was one of the Sannin's own disciples."

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