What… is this?
A genjutsu? No… unlikely.
There's no interference in my chakra flow. No irregularities. No disturbances in my mental state. I've endured countless illusions. This is not one of them.
Yet… these memories.
Fragments. Echoes. Foreign, yet nesting in my mind as if they've always been there. Impossible, and yet, undeniable.
Who is Riko?
The name means nothing to me, but the life tied to it… I remember it. A boy from another world. His death. His regrets. His desires.
His memories… are now mine.
Or were they always?
No… that's a pointless question. Dwelling on such things won't change the reality before me.
I am Orochimaru, Sannin of the Hidden Leaf.
I reach for a cup on the table. Cold water meets my lips, grounding me. A trivial act, yet undeniable proof of this reality.
I sift through the memories.
Matching timelines. Comparing facts. Studying variables.
The Third Great Ninja War is over.
Konoha will soon name a new Hokage.
And I already know how that will unfold.
"Sarutobi-sensei has made his decision," I murmur, voice barely above a whisper.
Bitterness? Perhaps.
He chose the Yellow Flash.
Minato Namikaze.
Such talent. Such speed. A prodigy beyond his years. Yet I see the path ahead. The Nine-Tails. The masked man. The sealing jutsu.
He will die young, a sacrifice for the village's peace.
How poetic. And how foolish.
Konoha raises its heroes… to die for it.
Just like Sakumo.
But something is different this time.
Kakashi's teammate…
Obito Uchiha. He is alive.
Or should be, if this isn't some alternate version, like those fanfictions in my memories.
How… intriguing.
The boy once crushed under rock is now a shadow in the dark. Wearing a mask. Pulling strings. Grasping for power he barely understands.
His Sharingan… has evolved.
Mangekyō.
Power born of grief. And stolen purpose.
Yet even with those eyes… he was merely a pawn.
Madara Uchiha, long thought dead, still weaves his will through others. A ghost puppeteering corpses. A relic with delusions of godhood.
But even he is not the true mastermind.
No…
There's another. A presence deeper than even Madara's ambition. A puppet master behind the puppet master.
The Rabbit Goddess's son… the will of Kaguya.
A thousand-year-old parasite.
Still clawing through time, seeking to revive his mother and reclaim the world.
I chuckle softly. Not mockery. Not joy. Just…
Fascination.
The Akatsuki. The Eye of the Moon Plan. The Rinnegan. The Ten-Tails. The Infinite Tsukuyomi.
Each memory reveals a new layer. Each truth more twisted than the last.
The world is a jutsu. Complex, endless, and filled with lies.
And I?
I will unravel it all.
The Sage of Six Paths existed. Not a myth. Not a legend. A hybrid?
The Ōtsutsuki see this world as prey.
Even I… would be prey.
Unacceptable.
I need power. Not just ninjutsu. Not just forbidden techniques.
I need something beyond this world.
If only I had a system like the ones in Riko's memories… a methodical, calculated framework of growth, skill mastery, and evolution…
"Such a tool would be most convenient."
[Initializing…]
I stop.
My breath slows. Time stills.
…Ah.
How deliciously unexpected.
This world just became far more interesting than I anticipated.
***********
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