Konoha, Year 56. Night.
Yakushi Kabuto moved quickly through the shadowy underground passage.
As someone who had grown up within Root and undergone years of training in similar environments, he should have been long accustomed to the darkness and silence.
Yet at this moment, there was a faint heaviness on his still-youthful face.
Even someone his age could sense that something unusual was happening around Lord Orochimaru.
If one thought back carefully, the first sign of change seemed to have appeared last year.
Back then, he had already been taken under Orochimaru's wing, preparing to remain in Konoha as a sleeper agent after his master's departure.
But for some unknown reason, an order came down to halt the operation entirely.
Not only were the relocation plans for all bases suspended, but even Kabuto himself, who had already been assigned as a secret operative, was transferred to another project — assisting in the renewed study of the Wood Release cells.
However, unlike the previous attempts that had been painfully slow and full of dead ends, this time the research progressed at an astonishing pace.
It was as if someone already knew the correct answers and was simply reproducing the process. In just half a year, the entire project had been completed.
If that much could still be attributed to Orochimaru's genius, what followed since the start of this year was completely beyond comprehension.
From early spring until now, Kabuto had witnessed at least three large-scale human experiments — one of which even involved multiple Konoha jōnin.
The scope and audacity of these experiments were enough to make even him uneasy.
And yet, both the Anbu and Root seemed to have been blinded and deafened, completely unaware of what was going on beneath their noses.
As a Root operative himself, Kabuto knew full well just how powerful the surveillance networks of those two organizations were.
It was absurd — something like that should have been impossible.
Clearly, Orochimaru had noticed the same thing, and he too had begun to feel the pressure of something vast and hidden moving in the shadows.
And so, tonight's operation was born.
A metallic clang echoed as a steel door creaked open. Kabuto stepped into the room.
Deep underground, surrounded by layers of sealing barriers, was a chamber heavily guarded and isolated from the outside world.
Against the far wall stood a massive multi-panel screen, occupying nearly its entire surface. Below it, researchers in white lab coats were busy working at their stations.
"Monitoring Unit One, calibration complete."
"Unit Two, calibration complete."
"Anti-surveillance barrier inspection beginning… recording data."
As the reports came one after another, Kabuto took his seat and looked up at the wall-sized screen.
At its center appeared the image of Orochimaru.
After numerous fruitless probes, tonight Orochimaru had decided to act personally — to use himself as bait and draw out the elusive "big fish" hiding beneath Konoha's shadows.
Recalling the plan he'd received before the operation began, Kabuto's eyes gleamed behind his glasses, a spark of fanatic devotion flickering within them.
Whether it was Orochimaru's power, his status, his countless victories, or his mind that always seemed one step ahead of everyone else, Kabuto believed in him almost without question.
If it's Lord Orochimaru… nothing will go wrong.
With that thought in mind, Kabuto gave the command crisply,
"Begin the operation."
"Yes, sir."
The researchers responded in unison.
At the same time, on the screen, Orochimaru was already approaching a small village deep within the forest.
.....
Under the moonlight, a tall man with long black hair stood upon the branch of an ancient tree, looking down at the village below.
Arms folded across his chest, Orochimaru's cold, serpentine eyes examined the site he had chosen for tonight's plan.
Seventy kilometers southeast of Konoha, the village had a population of three to four hundred.
It was a key relay point for messages and trade along one of the routes connecting Konoha to the outside world — distant and modest, yet perfectly suited for his needs.
At this very moment, the entire village lay within the reach of his surveillance.
According to the plan, a group of human test subjects possessing Kekkei Genkai bloodlines were hidden beneath the village — individuals Orochimaru had exchanged from the Land of Grass.
During transportation, traces of their presence had apparently been noticed by Kumogakure's Anbu.
And Orochimaru, in turn, had "leaked" their movements to Konoha's border patrols and to Root.
Multiple factions, each with their own motives, all converging upon one small village — the chaos that would follow was inevitable.
Which made it the perfect opportunity for him to fish in troubled waters.
To draw out the hidden hand that had been manipulating events from the shadows, Orochimaru had spared no effort.
"Let's see, then…"
His serpentine tongue slipped over his lips, tasting the air for even the faintest disturbance.
Insects, ninken, birds, summoned creatures — even the smallest trace of space or chakra fluctuation — none could escape the intricate net he had cast.
His pupils narrowed, calm and still as black ice.
"Who are you… really?"
But after a long stretch of waiting, the tongue he used to sense chakra began to burn — a familiar, searing pain that made his eyes widen in disbelief.
That sensation—
Without hesitation, Orochimaru shot forward.
A door burst open with a heavy thud.
"Hiss… hisss—"
From the body of a middle-aged man collapsed on the floor, thick white fluid gushed out in torrents. The man's body convulsed violently, twitching and trembling as branches — alive and growing — burst forth from within him.
His muscles locked, his eyes rolled back, and his fingernails clawed desperately at the floor as though trying to crawl away.
But the roots sprouting from his body pinned him to the ground, holding him fast.
"This is… the Wood Release cells?"
The confirmation only deepened Orochimaru's frown.
He strode quickly into the next room — the direction the man had been crawling toward — and pushed the door open again.
Inside, the man's wife and daughter were already beyond saving. Their bodies, frailer than his, were almost completely turned to wood.
They no longer even resembled humans — one side of the room had been torn apart by a massive, tumor-like growth of living wood still expanding outward.
Impossible.
Orochimaru's first thought was that this was absurd.
For the past three days, the entire village had been under constant observation. Every villager's movements were logged in detail — not a single anomaly had been found.
How could someone have conducted such an experiment under his very nose without leaving a trace?
No — that wasn't it.
Something clicked in his mind, and Orochimaru rushed out, sprinting toward another house. Then another. And another.
One by one.
The quiet village grew ever more silent. Even the insects and birds had vanished into the stillness.
His face darkened as he walked the length of the street.
Every single villager bore the marks of Wood Release experimentation. Some with stronger life force had even burst through their roofs, transformed into towering trees beneath the moonlight.
The peaceful village had become, without warning, a forest of massive trees tearing through what remained of the houses.
And of the planned surveillance teams, Kumogakure shinobi, Root agents, Anbu, and experimental subjects — there was no trace of any of them.
Not even a footprint remained.
What on earth happened?
Even Orochimaru found it hard to believe what he was seeing.
Driven by a final need to uncover the truth, he walked through the last of the ruined streets and reached the edge of the forest.
There, at the boundary where moonlight met shadow, stood a young man in a Konoha uniform.
He seemed utterly unbothered by the devastation around him, calmly writing in a notebook.
He had medium-length brown hair and wore thick black-rimmed glasses.
His features were soft, his expression gentle — the kind of man who would seem more at home in a library than on a battlefield. A polite smile played faintly on his lips.
For an instant, Orochimaru recognized him — a man from the same generation as Kakashi.
But that realization only made his voice, usually hoarse and composed, tremble slightly with disbelief.
"Aizen Sōsuke?"
"Good evening."
Only then did the young man raise his head, as though just now noticing Orochimaru's presence.
"Lord Orochimaru."
Moonlight poured softly through the leaves, scattering like silver dust over the ferns.
The night breeze stirred, shadows swaying like ink on water. Fireflies drifted lazily through the air — like stars that had fallen to earth, gathering quietly around him.
Aizen closed his notebook, that same mild smile still on his face.
There was a trace of emotion — perhaps admiration, perhaps pity — as his eyes passed over Orochimaru and lifted toward the pale night sky.
"What a beautiful moonlight."
"To be the one to see you off beneath such a view… I suppose that, too, is a kind of blessing."
"Don't you think so?"