Deep within the war-scarred Land of Rain, far removed from the known battlefields, lies a place where even shadows dare not tread. Beneath the earth, in a labyrinth of rusted metal and decaying concrete,
"Bring me the next subject," he hisses in the rasping tongue of fire.
Moments later, he returns, dragging a young girl by her hair.
"Please... no... I don't want to die!" she sobs.
"Death? My dear, death would be a mercy."
He gestures, and the assistant straps the girl onto a cold, blood-stained table.
"You will be part of something greater."
He picks up a scalpel, its blade catching the light, and begins his work.
--
A snake slittered to the room and spat out a scroll, unceremoniously picking it up Orochimaru opened it and read the letter,
> Orochimaru,
The front must be secured by month's end. Why has Asugamuzi not fallen? Explain your delay. We must not allow the Sand and Rain to strengthen their ties. Your strategies must evolve. Come to Konoha for counsel, should you need it.
- Hiruzen
"The old man still clings to his ideals," he muses. "He fails to see the futility of it all."
"Shall I prepare a response, Lord Orochimaru?"
"Let him stew in his ignorance."
He rises, walking to a nearby tank where a child floats in a viscous liquid, his body twisted and malformed.
---
Deep in the land of fire --Root base--
"We must be the unseen blade, the silent protector."
"Sir, there are concerns about Orochimaru's methods."
"Orochimaru is a necessary evil. His actions, though extreme, serve a greater purpose."
He turns away, his gaze distant.
---
Konoha village land of fire
"No... not my son," she whispers, tears streaming down her face.
"He was just a boy," he murmurs.
"When will daddy come home?"
---
Orochimaru's Lab
"Shall we proceed with the next subject?"
"Yes. Each failure brings us closer to perfection."
He gazes at the array of tanks, each containing a twisted form.
"We must act," he states. "Orochimaru's ambitions threaten us all."
"Prepare the next phase. The world is not yet ready for what's to come."
---
Land of Rain – Asugamuzi Ruins, 5:11 AM
Pitter. Patter.
The rain hadn't stopped. Not in days. Maybe weeks. Time had lost meaning in the shit-smudged trenches and blood-slicked stone alleys of Asugamuzi.
"Move, damn it! They're circling from the east!"
Lieutenant Rendo Karashi of the Rain barked with a cracked throat, his bandaged arm trailing blood like ink in the wet air. "I want suppression jutsu—now! Buy us two minutes!"
A kunoichi beside him, barely older than a girl, slammed her hands into the wet ground. "Water Style: Drowning Spear Rain!"
Spikes of needle-sharp liquid jutted up from the puddles around them—shimmering for a breath of a second—before ripping into the advancing Sand shinobi. One screamed. Another collapsed. Two more dodged, weaving puppet strings in bloody grace.
"Rendo, they've got puppeteers. Fuckin' bastards are using kids again!" screamed Makura, one of Rendo's oldest comrades, a scar-faced jonin who had fought through three different border skirmishes. His blade clanged with a puppet's iron joint.
The puppet's jaw snapped shut around his leg.
CRACK.
"AHHH—FUCK—MY FUCKING LEG!"
Makura went down, slamming a kunai into the puppet's face even as it gnawed deeper into his bone. Blood hissed in the rain.
---
Rain Headquarters – Below the Fortress Ruins
"Hold the fucking line. I don't care if their mothers are crying or the gods are pissing in their ears."
Lord Hanzo of the Salamander, his mask removed, leaned over the war table with eyes rimmed in ash. The metal room was dim, candlelight trembling like a frightened animal.
"Lord Hanzo…" a messenger said quietly, kneeling, "…the third supply convoy was destroyed on the western route. They're choking us off. We've lost three towns. The corpses are rotting in their own fucking children's blood."
Hanzo lit a pipe, sucked on it, and exhaled.
"The Sand want us to bend. The Leaf want us to rot. But we will not die on our knees like Light's whores. We are Rain. We bleed until the sky weeps for us."
"Sir…" another voice said. This one gentler, hesitant.
Captain Nagu, a slender man with a steel prosthetic jaw, moved his fingers nervously across a scroll. "What if we asked the Akatsuki for more than aid? They're already helping the civilians. We could… share intelligence, at least."
"Those children? No. They're idealists. They pass rice bowls and talk peace while we boil the guts of enemies in the gutter. They don't understand what this is."
Hanzo's voice dropped low. "This is the end of the age of pity. Those who don't fight now will become corpses no one will remember."
---
On the Front – South Ridge, 6:20 AM
"Where the fuck is the backup!?"
"Dead, you bastard! The entire southern wing is gone!"
Sergeant Gashi, soaked and half-dead, screamed at his lieutenant as two Sand shinobi dropped from the cliffs with poisoned kunai. One slit the throat of the scout before he could breathe. The other hurled needles that impaled Gashi's arm.
"Arghhh—FUCK YOU—FUCK—"
He slammed his bleeding stump against the enemy's face, tackled him down the ridge, and snapped his neck in a burst of rain-soaked bone.
Beside the corpses, private Lira, barely sixteen, vomited.
"They were just boys. The ones we killed." she whispered. "I saw their sandals. Fuckin' kids, they still had chalk in their pockets."
"You want to die screaming about chalk, or live with blood on your hands?"
The medic, a young man with two fingers missing, seared a wound shut with lightning jutsu and didn't wait for permission.
Lira didn't answer. She just cried.
---
Civilians – Refugee Camp, North Side
A mother with only one arm held her toddler while listening to the news.
"They said Koushin's unit is gone."
"They didn't even bring back bones."
"They said a sandstorm buried them with the enemy. No graves."
"They burned them with fire jutsu. One by one. Alive."
The rumors cut deeper than kunai. The sobs in the camp turned into wails.
"Why—why my boy—he didn't even know how to hold a sword—he just—"
"SHUT UP!"
An old man barked. "We cry, they piss on us. Cry louder, they burn more."
"Where is the Hokage now? Where is peace?"
"They said the Hokage and the Kazekage shook hands once. Now our children shake hands with death!"
---
ROOT – Underground Leaf
"Sir. Hanzo still refuses to fold."
"Of course he does."
Danzo Shimura stood over a map with one eye gleaming in the flicker of torchlight. His voice was a sandpaper rasp.
"Tell Orochimaru the experiments proceed. Let him play butcher while we slit the Rain's throat from within."
"Sir. Do you… still want the boy found? The one called Raghoul?"
Danzo paused.
"Yes. That chakra signature he left near Black Snow Valley. It wasn't normal. Light-touched, maybe. Or cursed. I want him alive. Or in pieces. Either way, he's mine."
---
Orochimaru – Experimental Lab, Rain Border
"You think blood cries when you rip open a soul?"
He asked the question casually, slipping a scalpel into a bound ninja's chest. The heart quivered like a fish pulled from poison.
"I do. I think every piece of chakra remembers pain. And I want to know what it says when it forgets its name."
"Why are you doing this… you monster…"
The victim sobbed through the blood in his throat.
"Because gods die. And I want to be the grave that laughs last."