Orochimaru woke from the dream with a jolt, his body tense, eyes sharp and piercing as blades, scanning the empty laboratory with intense vigilance. The scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, and outside, the sky remained dark.
"So, I'm back." He leaned against the chair, glancing at the clock on the wall. Only a few minutes had passed in reality, though the dream had felt like half an hour. Clearly, the mysterious skeletal cathedral existed in a different flow of time.
He massaged his brow, a mix of caution and lingering resentment crossing his face. A memory surfaced—Adam's warning before he left: "Be careful of the Third Hokage and Danzo." Orochimaru understood the threat of Danzo. Their cooperation had already skirted several of Konoha's forbidden projects, and while mutual constraints existed, disaster could strike at any moment. White Fang's fate was a clear warning: vigilance was necessary.
Orochimaru unfolded a scroll, carefully erasing the final passage, and replaced it with: "Progress on Wood Release research is promising. Approximately a dozen test subjects are needed, preferably selected from Konoha prison inmates. Respectfully, your apprentice—Orochimaru."
He sealed the scroll and let out a slow, controlled breath. "Fate… let's see where this leads." Hands crossed, purple shadows framing his eyes, a strange determination simmered beneath his calm exterior.
Meanwhile, Uchiha Munetsuki slowly awoke, his head pounding. The brass candelabra in the corner, once alight, had burned out, sending wisps of fragrant smoke curling into the air.
Maintaining the Sequence 3 dream was taxing, Munetsuki thought, rubbing his temple. Even with ten spirit constructs, the dream could only last ten minutes. The candelabra—Hermes' Brass Lamp—was central to constructing the dreamscape. A remarkable artifact infused with the dreamweaver's ability, it could trap anyone within a kilometer in a forced dream. The dream's duration and intensity depended on the quality of spirit energy consumed by the flame.
Of course, the lamp had a price. Sustaining the dream rapidly drained the user's spirit, risking loss of control or madness. Afterward, a form of psychological backlash lingered for roughly twenty-four hours: within a kilometer, anyone's mind would instinctively sense hostility toward the user. Munetsuki suspected this was the lamp's dreamweaver nature, subtly overwriting and steering the subconscious of all nearby minds. In other words, the candelabra "wanted" to kill its wielder.
Shaking his head at the familiar danger, he stored the lamp and settled in for sleep.
The next morning, he awoke naturally, a habit honed on battlefields. Even off the battlefield, a ninja's awareness had to remain sharp—any lapse could prove fatal. After dressing, Munetsuki left the Uchiha residence. Passing through the streets, he noticed subtle glances, tinged with unease or hostility. Let's hope today passes without incident, he thought, hurrying toward Konoha Hospital.
"Good morning, Dr. Munetsuki," greeted several voices along the way.
Thankfully, the hospital lay outside the range of the brass lamp's influence. Otherwise, he might have reconsidered his visit—especially since today's patient was known to be volatile.
On the top floor, Munetsuki entered the office. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, soft gold spilling over a woman seated by the desk. Her long, pale hair was tied in a ponytail, her features delicate despite being nearly thirty, and her skin still flawless. She propped her chin on her hand, blinking sleepily, nodding gently in a slow rhythm.
A striking woman. Now he understood why Tsunade earned such a reputation. Truly, the legendary Tsunade.
But reality quickly intruded. She yawned loudly, stretching with abandon, her movements tossing her ample chest. Focus, Munetsuki, focus. He closed his eyes briefly, centering himself, ignoring the distracting display.
"Ah, you're here," she said, half-asleep, voice soft. "Sorry, I stayed up late last night."
Munetsuki controlled his irritation, speaking evenly. "If today isn't convenient, I can come back tomorrow." Tsunade was technically his patient, though irregularly so—she didn't always pay promptly.
"Don't bother," she said, brushing off his concern. "Let's do it today—I made a good profit last night anyway."
Munetsuki stiffened internally. Whenever Tsunade had luck, someone close inevitably suffered.
"Very well," he said silently, holding his tongue. Safety first.
"Thank you, Munetsuki," she said, softening, sitting upright. "Without you, I'd still be trapped in the shadows of the past."
"My honor," he replied, calm and warm, eyes slowly glinting red. Three tomoe appeared in his Sharingan. "Are you ready? Let's begin—please relax."
"I'm ready," she said, her amber eyes reflecting memories as her mind gradually cleared.
"Genjutsu: Mind's Fulfillment!" he announced, forming seals. But in truth, he subtly channeled spiritual energy, a spark lighting in his eyes—hypnosis.
Through his perception, he watched Tsunade's mental barriers open. Perfect, he thought. Time to test Sequence 6 psychological suggestion. Delving deeper into her mind, he planted a subtle suggestion without her awareness.