Naruto met Sasuke's Great Fireball head-on, his hand glowing with a sphere of violent energy.
The Wind Style Rasengan tore through the fireball as though splitting it apart, the razor-like chakra cutting the flames in half before streaking straight toward Sasuke.
It missed—by two centimeters.
But that was enough to make cold sweat run down Sasuke's back. Behind him, where the Rasengan struck, the ground had been obliterated into powder. Tiles shattered, leaving behind a massive crater, the edges still hissing from the force of the compressed wind chakra.
A single gust swept past, scattering the powdered stone into the air. What remained was only the gaping wound in the battlefield.
The crowd erupted in shock.
"That's impossible! He's too strong!"
"He really is the son of the Fourth Hokage!"
"Even their weakest genin are this powerful? That Rasengan… it's jōnin-level at least! And this is supposed to be the Chūnin Exams?"
"Don't forget Gaara! He wiped out five opponents in an instant!"
"And the Ino–Shika–Cho trio… their teamwork is flawless. Kamigakure's genin are monsters."
The voices of awe swelled through the stands.
But in the shadows, Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger. His tongue flicked against his lips as his gaze lingered on Sasuke. He had tried to abandon this desire—Kaede's price for sparing him had been too great to ignore. And yet, seeing Sasuke here reignited that fire within him.
This boy's body was perfect.
The Sharingan in his eyes was not ordinary. Orochimaru's instincts screamed at him—this was destiny. No matter how much Kaede had warped the story, some things could not be erased.
In every path, Orochimaru's fate was always drawn to Sasuke.
And Sasuke's eyes were indeed special. Though only at the stage of three tomoe, the killing intent behind them promised more. Much more.
His years under Danzo's ANBU had left their mark. The inhuman training had stripped away his warmth, his bonds, his humanity. The boy who once cared for comrades now lived only for vengeance.
For him, revenge was everything.
That was the foundation of the Uchiha. Their Sharingan bloomed in pain, in loss, in overwhelming emotion. The deeper the wound, the stronger the evolution.
Danzo had twisted Sasuke into this—an empty shell fueled by hatred. And though he had dozens of stolen eyes embedded in his body, the ones he craved most had always been Itachi's… and Sasuke's.
But he could never wield them as they were meant to be wielded. Not unless he stole them whole.
And so, Orochimaru's gaze lingered. The hunger in his heart refused to fade.
Because Sasuke's eyes promised the power of destiny itself.
(End of Chapter)
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