Naruto: The Avenger of the Uzumaki clan

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As Menma turned toward the door, he paused, casting a deliberate glance over his shoulder. His gaze lingered on Orochimaru's seemingly restored arms.

"Oh, one more thing," Menma added, his tone casual but pointed. "About the matter we discussed earlier—could you undo the effects of that particular seal soon? I imagine even someone of your caliber wouldn't want unnecessary hindrances."

The room seemed to grow colder as Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed. Menma's words were no accident.

"Don't worry," Orochimaru replied smoothly, though there was an edge to his voice. "These arms are fully functional. You have nothing to fear."

"That's reassuring," Menma said with a faint smirk before walking away.

The moment Menma left, the air in the room shifted. Orochimaru's expression darkened, and a palpable tension filled the space. Suigetsu, who had been silently observing, shivered.

'He's furious,' Suigetsu thought, feeling the weight of Orochimaru's suppressed rage. 'How can that brat talk to him like that and walk away unscathed?'

For all his bravado, Suigetsu knew better than to test Orochimaru's patience. Menma, however, seemed to thrive on doing just that.

"Suigetsu," Orochimaru's cold voice broke the silence.

"Huh? Y-yes, Lord Orochimaru?" Suigetsu straightened immediately.

"You heard the conversation just now," Orochimaru continued. "You'll assist Menma-kun on his mission. I'll assign additional personnel to accompany you. Follow his orders—without question."

Suigetsu blinked in disbelief. "You want me to—?"

"Is there a problem?" Orochimaru's voice dropped, his piercing gaze freezing Suigetsu in place.

"N-no problem, Lord Orochimaru!" Suigetsu stammered, bowing hastily. "I'll do as you command."

"Good," Orochimaru said, his tone dismissive. "Prepare yourself."

As Suigetsu left the room, his mind raced. The idea of following Menma's orders unnerved him. Menma might be young, but he exuded an unsettling confidence—one that even Orochimaru seemed to respect, if not fear.

"Lord Orochimaru," Kabuto said, emerging from the shadows. "Do you truly intend to help Menma gain influence in Takigakure? If he succeeds, his power could grow beyond our control."

Kabuto's concern was logical. Takigakure's strength, bolstered by the Seven-Tails Jinchūriki, was nothing to scoff at. If Menma managed to sway the village to his side, the balance of power would shift dramatically.

"Control?" Orochimaru repeated, a faint smile curling his lips. "Kabuto, you misunderstand. Menma-kun and I are partners. There's no need for control. If he grows stronger, it only serves our interests. The enemies we face—Konoha, Akatsuki, the other great nations—will require far more than simple schemes to overcome."

Kabuto frowned, unsure if he agreed. "Even so, his ambitions—"

"Are irrelevant," Orochimaru interrupted, his tone firm. "Menma-kun is a valuable ally. That's all that matters for now. Focus on ensuring his success. Assign Tayuya and a few others to assist him."

"Yes, Lord Orochimaru," Kabuto Yakushi bowed deeply, his expression betraying neither hesitation nor curiosity, despite not fully understanding the implications of Orochimaru's latest order.

"One more thing," Orochimaru added, his voice a soft whisper with an edge of menace. "What progress have you made on the investigation into that matter?"

Kabuto's sharp mind pieced the clues together instantly. 'So that's what he meant...' he thought. Keeping his tone respectful and measured, he replied, "The site has been located. It's in the western outskirts of Konoha, completely unguarded, as if abandoned. However, we haven't fully analyzed the mechanics of the technique. More crucially, Danzo remains unwilling to part with the jutsu itself."

He was, of course, referring to the Dead Demon Consuming Seal (Shiki Fūjin).

In another timeline, Orochimaru had spent years meticulously piecing together the intricate secrets of the Shiki Fūjin. But this time, armed with Menma's cryptic hints and fragments of information, his progress had accelerated far beyond what anyone could have anticipated.

It had taken only a few months to unravel the basic principles of the jutsu—an astonishing feat. However, without the original scroll as a reference, Orochimaru was wary of conducting experiments. One misstep could spell disaster, even for someone as skilled as he.

To complete his understanding, he required Danzo's cooperation—something the cunning old hawk had no intention of offering.

Danzo Shimura, ever the pragmatist, understood the devastating potential of the Shiki Fūjin better than most. Though he couldn't wield the jutsu himself, its strategic value as leverage made it indispensable. To him, Orochimaru and Menma, despite their individual prowess, were threats better kept at arm's length.

"You can't expect Danzo to part with something so valuable," Orochimaru mused aloud, his golden eyes narrowing. "Not when Menma—a rogue ninja and the very subject of his paranoia—has aligned himself with me."

Kabuto adjusted his glasses, his keen mind already anticipating the complications Danzo presented.

"And yet," Orochimaru continued, a thin smile curling on his lips, "every barrier has its breaking point. Kabuto, prepare to collect the sealing masks hidden in the Uzumaki clan's storage site. We'll need them for the next stage of our work. Verify them one by one—no mistakes."

"Understood, Lord Orochimaru," Kabuto responded without hesitation, bowing once more.

Even as the plan unfolded, Orochimaru remained acutely aware of the inherent danger in tampering with the Shiki Fūjin. The jutsu demanded the life of its caster—a price he had no intention of paying. But Orochimaru was nothing if not prepared.

He had long developed contingencies: the Yamata no Jutsu, his Cursed Seals, and countless other forbidden techniques. Though imperfect, they would suffice for now. Patience was a virtue he had learned to embrace, especially when immortality was within his grasp.

Still, his current body was beginning to deteriorate, as all his vessels inevitably did. Orochimaru flexed his fingers subtly, noting the faint stiffness creeping into his joints. Time was growing short.

"Now, Kabuto," Orochimaru said, his voice soft but commanding, "how is the fusion experiment progressing? The integration of Hashirama's cells with the Sharingan—has there been any progress?"

Kabuto's lips curved into a faint smile as he produced a neatly sealed scroll from within his robes. "The preliminary results are here, Lord Orochimaru. However, we've encountered deviations from the expected parameters. The cellular rejection rates remain... problematic."

Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed as he unfurled the scroll, scanning the dense charts and annotations with practiced ease.

'So, complications persist,' he thought, though his expression betrayed no disappointment. Instead, a glint of exhilaration shone in his gaze. Every obstacle was merely another puzzle to solve, another step closer to perfection.

"The Rinnegan..." Orochimaru murmured, almost to himself. His mind wandered back to the fateful day he had witnessed Pain's Rinnegan—those godlike eyes of unimaginable power. The image had seared itself into his memory, haunting and inspiring him in equal measure.

Menma's cryptic hints had confirmed what Orochimaru already suspected: the Rinnegan was not a mere myth but an attainable evolution of the Sharingan. Still, the specifics of its awakening remained elusive. Uchiha Madara's transformation—from Sharingan to Mangekyō Sharingan, and ultimately to the Rinnegan—was shrouded in mystery.

"Menma's knowledge has its limits," Orochimaru said aloud, rolling the scroll shut. "But no matter. If the Sage of Six Paths achieved it, then so can I."

Kabuto inclined his head. "With further refinements, the rejection rate should decrease. I'll begin adjustments immediately."

"Good," Orochimaru replied, his tone laced with approval. "In the meantime, increase surveillance on Danzo. If he makes a move with that scroll, I want to know about it."

"As you wish, Lord Orochimaru."

Orochimaru leaned back in his chair, a serpent's smile playing on his lips. Every piece was slowly falling into place. The Shiki Fūjin, the Rinnegan, Hashirama's cells, the Sharingan—each was a fragment of the grand design.

All that remained was time. And time, Orochimaru believed, was his to conquer.

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