"Who is Shisui?"
At the sound of Orochimaru's question, the elite Uchiha clan members turned their attention to a young man with a dagger in the crowd.
Shisui, momentarily stunned, reacted instantly. In the blink of an eye, he appeared in front of Orochimaru, kneeling on one knee.
"Master Orochimaru," Shisui said.
Orochimaru smirked, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed Shisui's form.
"Ah, the famed 'Body Flicker,' I see. Your speed is truly remarkable," Orochimaru said, licking his lips as his gaze sharpened.
Shisui had gained widespread recognition at the age of eleven during the Third Ninja War. His power was formidable, nearing that of an elite jonin, and his Sharingan was well-known. Even Orochimaru had heard of him.
But what stood out to Orochimaru most wasn't just Shisui's strength. It was the boy's demeanor—so different from the usual Uchiha pride. He wasn't as cold or detached as others from his clan.
"As the legends say, you've unlocked the Mangekyō Sharingan?" Orochimaru thought.
He couldn't help but feel a sense of doubt. From the records of the Second Hokage's experiments, the Uchiha's Sharingan grew stronger with the intensity of the user's emotions. Given Shisui's calm nature, Orochimaru wondered how this boy could have awakened such a powerful form of the Sharingan.
Nevertheless, so far, the tales Orochimaru had heard seemed to ring true. Even without the Mangekyō Sharingan, Shisui's raw talent and pupil power were exceptional, far surpassing most other Uchiha. He was exactly the kind of subject Orochimaru sought for his research into the First Hokage's cells.
The question remained: How could he convince Shisui to cooperate?
Orochimaru smiled coldly. "This tailed beast training will be dangerous. You'll need to rely on your speed to avoid the fallout and evacuate any injured Uchiha from the battlefield."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you confident you can handle it?"
Shisui considered it for a moment, then nodded. His speed was his greatest strength, and he was intrigued by the task Orochimaru had given him.
"I'm confident," Shisui replied.
"Good," Orochimaru said. "The exercise will begin soon. Patriarch Fugaku, as we discussed, you won't participate in the battle. You'll be responsible for command."
Fugaku nodded solemnly, and Itachi, realizing what was about to unfold, retreated to the sidelines with Sasuke and Shisui in tow.
Soon, only Orochimaru and the elite members of the Uchiha Security Team remained on the training ground. The atmosphere grew tense, the air thick with anticipation.
Orochimaru's smile curled at the corners of his lips, a cold glint in his eyes. "What are you waiting for? You think I can't summon a tailed beast?"
He paused, letting the words hang in the air before adding with a darker edge: "However… it won't be hard for you to experience the power of one."
Orochimaru quickly formed a series of hand signs.
"Forbidden Technique — Eight-Headed Serpent Jutsu!" he intoned.
…
High up in a tree, away from the chaos of the battlefield, Itachi crouched on a thick branch. He gently reached out to calm a nervous Sasuke, his expression growing grim.
"What is that monster…?"
Beside him, Shisui had already activated his Sharingan. His gaze locked onto the battlefield below as he muttered in awe:
"So it's true… That's the power of a Sannin-level ninja. With that much chakra—can we even call him human?"
As the smoke cleared, an enormous creature now stood on the training field—its size rivaling even the Nine-Tails.
It was pale white, like a twisted mass of eight serpents tangled together. Each of the eight heads swept its cold, reptilian gaze across the field, peering down at the surrounding ninjas like they were nothing more than ants.
"Itachi," Shisui said urgently, "Looks like I can't sit this one out."
Without another word, he vanished from the branch.
…
On the training field, over twenty jōnin and nearly a hundred chūnin surrounded the monstrous form of the Yamata no Orochi, their faces pale as they stared up at it.
"This… this can't be real ninjutsu. You've got to be kidding…"
None of them had truly understood the scale until they saw it with their own eyes. The pressure, the size—it dragged their minds back to that terrifying night of the Nine-Tails' attack. Except this time, they weren't observers. They were in the middle of it.
They weren't just crowd control anymore.
Now they had to fight.
At the command post, Fugaku's voice rang out over the field. "Restrict its movement! Give us an opening to strike!"
His shout signaled the start. Uchiha elites burst into action, scattering and weaving signs.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!"
"Earth Style: Earth Flow Wall!"
A storm of elemental jutsu flew toward the giant beast. The power was undeniable—but the coordination was sloppy.
Just as Orochimaru had predicted, the Uchiha weren't used to fighting as a unified force. Their attacks overlapped, collided, or left massive gaps. The battlefield became chaotic.
Yamata no Orochi's eight massive tails swept through the air. The gust alone snuffed out half the incoming jutsu, and the rest struck its thick scales, barely leaving a mark.
"What a mess…" one of the serpent heads hissed with a deep, amused voice. "Shall I give you all a moment for a little meeting?"
The sarcasm stung.
Shame colored the Uchiha's faces. Many had once scoffed at the village's failure during the Nine-Tails incident. We would have handled it better, they'd said.
Now the tables had turned—and reality slapped hard.
Fugaku clenched his fists, knowing full well the blame fell largely on him.
Suppressing his emotions, he barked again, "Reform the teams! Return to formation! Security Team One, move south!"
With swift movements, shinobi darted through the forest, obeying the chain of commands. Yamata no Orochi took advantage of the brief disorder to lash out—reminding them this was still a drill, albeit a terrifyingly real one.
Once the Uchiha had regrouped, their formation stabilized, and ninjutsu began launching in proper sequences. The attacks gained rhythm, power—and finally, impact.
Fugaku, at the very least, knew his men. He assigned teams based on their known jutsu and fighting styles.
Several of the Uchiha elites specialized in close combat, using blinding speed and masterful swordplay aided by the Sharingan. But that advantage meant little here. Against the Orochi's massive body, their blades were like needles against armor. Even when they managed to land a strike, its regenerative abilities healed the wounds almost instantly.
Fortunately, most of the squad had large chakra reserves and could support long-range jutsu.
"Team Three, prepare Fire Release to bind it down! Team Four, follow with Wind Release!"
Though many of their initial attacks had failed, Fugaku's leadership was beginning to shine.
"Fire Style: Majestic Destroyer Flame!"
"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!"
"Wind Style: Gale Surge!"
The wind fed the fire, turning small bursts into blazing infernos. The forest ignited in an instant, flames circling Yamata no Orochi like a ring of judgment.
Still, the beast was barely fazed.
With a few rolls across the scorched earth, it smothered the flames. Burn scars blackened its body for a moment—then sloughed off as its skin peeled, leaving pristine scales beneath.
Fugaku didn't flinch. It was all within expectations.
"Squad captains—prepare your genjutsu!"
As the serpent writhed in its moment of recovery, eight Uchiha sprang into action. Their Sharingan glinted, eyes locked with the glowing pupils of eight heads, ready to unleash illusions powerful enough to cloud even a monster's mind.
__________
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