All things are impermanent.
Although the situation in Ryūchi Cave hadn't unfolded exactly as Manda expected, on the surface, it wasn't far off.
Orochimaru had not completely subdued the White Snake Sage.
After a three-way spiritual negotiation, the White Snake Sage returned to her physical body and released a commanding snake-call—a summoning no serpent in Ryūchi Cave could resist. From giant pythons like Manda to the tiniest newborn snakes, any creature infused with even a trace of her natural energy felt compelled to obey. The psychic scroll's influence ran too deep—woven into blood, into cells. There was no defiance.
That's why Manda had fled so suddenly. His main goal had never been betrayal—it was self-preservation, avoiding the catastrophic clash between Orochimaru and the Sage.
"What a pity…"
Regret flickered in Manda's eyes as he led the serpentine tide back to Ryūchi Cave, slithering faster than before. A slow escape might mean death in battle. A late return? Far worse: the White Snake Sage's wrath. Manda feared that more than anything.
So, the snake tide receded back into the earth, leaving behind a confused group of villagers.
---
Not long after, Manda re-entered Ryūchi Cave and immediately spotted the massive coiled form of the White Snake Sage. Nearby, he saw Orochimaru, crouched beside her sloughed-off skin, steadily absorbing the rich natural energy radiating from it.
And then came the question:
"Manda," Orochimaru said, glancing sideways, his voice calm but sharp, "why is my disciple inside your stomach?"
Manda froze.
"A-ah, Lord Orochimaru... your disciple jumped in on his own. I couldn't stop him—!"
"Enough," Orochimaru interrupted flatly. "Are you planning to digest him?"
"Of course not—right away!"
With a sickened groan, Manda opened his mouth and regurgitated a figure, drenched in digestive fluids.
It was Jūgo.
Thanks to his body's natural energy adaptation, he hadn't suffered serious damage—only cosmetic. His once-rough hair had completely dissolved in Manda's stomach acid, leaving him bald. His expression was grim, like a man trapped in a nightmare.
Orochimaru glanced at him once, then turned his focus back to the Sage of the Six Paths, who still lingered in the White Snake Sage's spiritual plane.
The ancient sage hadn't left after resolving the crisis. Instead, he chose to speak privately with Orochimaru.
"You may speak freely," Orochimaru said with a smile. "I owe you for watching over me during my transformation. If I can help, I will."
The Sage of the Six Paths raised an eyebrow.
That phrase—"if I can help"—made one thing clear: Orochimaru didn't see him as a benefactor, nor as a patron of the deal. He had only done what was necessary.
The Sage silently acknowledged the truth. During the Roran incident, he could have intervened—but didn't. In this case, he had accepted Orochimaru's proposal to save Ryūchi Cave. Not from kindness, but necessity.
These weren't favors. They were calculated moves.
"There is something I need," the Sage said. "A few days ago, the Great Toad Sage—what you call the Elder Toad—asked for help. Mount Myōboku faces destruction."
Orochimaru raised an eyebrow.
"Myōboku? What threat could possibly destroy it?"
He had heard whispers in Konoha but dismissed them as trivial. Now, hearing it from the Sage himself, his interest sharpened.
"Even I do not know," the Sage replied. "I am neither omniscient nor omnipotent. But the Great Toad's dreams rarely miss."
It wasn't sentiment that made him intervene. If a force existed that could destroy Myōboku, it would likely threaten the entire shinobi world.
"Understood," Orochimaru said. Then his expression shifted. "Tell me... do you know of the boy who possesses your eyes?"
He was talking about Nagato—and he wanted to know the Sage's stance.
A child of the Uzumaki clan shouldn't naturally possess the Rinnegan. Orochimaru doubted this was chance. There was too much calculation behind it all—Kaguya's son Black Zetsu, Madara's intricate plans, the Rinnegan's awakening...
Surely, the Sage had noticed.
The old man was silent for a moment.
"I know him. But I will not interfere. I welcome strength emerging in the shinobi world, even if I do not guide it."
Orochimaru nodded. He suspected as much.
"I may clash with Nagato soon. If that's your stance, I won't hold back."
The Sage gave him a long, thoughtful look.
"If that time comes, be merciful. The world may need him. And you—I'm glad you created enhanced surgery. Please don't make me regret my hope in you."
Orochimaru said nothing. He was not the Sage's follower. He had his own plans for humanity. The Sage, seeing this, simply nodded and faded from the spiritual plane.
---
Back in the cave, Orochimaru turned to Djinn, who had been monitoring Jūgo's condition.
"How is he?"
"Still fighting Shisha for control of the body. He's strong mentally, but lacks aggression," Djinn said, shaking his head. "Character shapes fate. It's not surprising if Shisha overtakes him."
"That's fine," Orochimaru replied. "All I need is the body. This is a test—to see if a man-made shikigami can fully dominate a human host."
He had once created techniques that consumed others' souls during possession, but they caused rejection over time. Frequent body replacements were necessary. If Shisha could overcome this flaw, Orochimaru could mass-produce ideal vessels.
Then, Jūgo suddenly roared and convulsed.
The natural energy inside Ryūchi Cave had grown too thick—especially with the White Snake Sage shedding skin. Even Orochimaru couldn't absorb all the excess energy fast enough. Jūgo, already sensitive to it, finally snapped.
His scream echoed. With eyes blazing red, he erupted into a mindless frenzy and rampaged through the cave.
Thankfully, Ryūchi Cave was carved from stone. His destruction was meaningless. Orochimaru didn't even glance his way—still focused on absorbing energy from the shed snake skin.
---
Meanwhile, in the faraway mountains of Kumogakure…
Kumo's sky-piercing peaks had stood proud for generations. But now, the mountaintop holding the Raikage Building had collapsed into rubble.
Nagato hovered above it all, suspended mid-air like a god of judgment.
Below him, hundreds of Kumogakure ninjas lay scattered—alive, but broken. Chakra depleted. Will exhausted.
Only a few could still move.
"Fourth Raikage," Nagato said coldly. "Still clinging to that futile pride? You know I held back. Or do you wish for Kumogakure's complete annihilation?"
The Fourth Raikage, bloodied and wild-eyed, growled like a cornered beast. He glared, but his fury was powerless now.
Just half a day earlier, Nagato had appeared from nowhere and obliterated a mountain with a single strike. Kumogakure's best—including its two Jinchūriki—had tried to stop him.
They failed.
The Raikage couldn't understand it. How had Orochimaru fought this monster to a standstill? The power gap was incomprehensible.
What he didn't know was that this Nagato was no longer the same man.
Two major transplant surgeries had multiplied his power tenfold. And with the awakening of his newest ability—Limbo: Border Jail—Nagato had become almost untouchable.
He didn't even call himself a god anymore. He didn't have to. His power spoke for itself.
Now, he stood not to destroy Kumogakure —but to subjugate it.
"You're dreaming!" the Raikage roared. "Even if you kill me, someone will avenge us!"
Nagato's eyes narrowed, but he smiled faintly.
"Determined. Admirable."
Then, his tone turned cold.
"But pointless. Your sacrifices won't change a thing. None of you will live long enough to see that revenge."
His Uzumaki heritage gave him unparalleled sensory perception. He could feel every ninja fleeing in secret.
"You won't escape."
Nagato rose higher into the sky, becoming a black dot overhead. He stretched out his arms as his spiritual energy exploded outward, blanketing the mountains.
"World—taste despair."
The skies screamed.
"Universal Pull!"
Tens of thousands of villagers and ninjas were suddenly yanked into the air like puppets. Screaming. Flailing. Rising against their will.
They flew toward Nagato, forming a storm of human bodies—a gray cloud of terror.
At first, they fought back. But one by one, their resistance faded into silence.
When Nagato descended again, he brought the entire floating crowd with him—hovering ominously above the rubble.
He turned to the battered Fourth Raikage.
"One last time," he said. "Submit… or vanish."
_____________________
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