"Ahhh… another sunny day… gloomy morning!"
Hidan stretched his arms high, yawning as he breathed in the damp air of the crypt.
The smell of rot and mold seeped from the stone walls, but he only wrinkled his nose and muttered with helpless annoyance.
Since being reborn, he had changed.
Words came more easily now. Where once he had been a quiet boy with mild autism, withdrawn into himself, now he found his tongue loosening.
He joked more, complained more, spoke his thoughts aloud with ease.
Yet when it came to killing, that same boy had turned ice-cold. His hands never hesitated.
Maybe this is the original Hidan's influence, he thought. A mix of me and him. Talkative, cheerful… and merciless.
"I never expected I'd master the curse in just one night," he whispered, eyes glinting as he recalled the scroll's information.
The Curse Technique: Death by Blood, Hidan's exclusive jutsu. His jutsu.
"Destiny, huh?" He laughed softly. "It's almost like it was waiting for me."
Originally, he had planned to take his time. To learn it slowly, then test the waters. Only after that would he enter the experiment.
But now?
Now impatience gnawed at him. He could already feel the technique pulsing within him, alive, hungry.
Hidan pulled the black robe over his shoulders, fastening the cords neatly across his chest. The scythe rope coiled at his waist, the black spear on his back.
"Enough waiting," he said with a grin.
The experiment that others whispered of in fear — the so-called "blessing of Jashin," the rite of death and agony… was, to him, nothing more than a door.
A door he would kick open to step into the power he craved.
He walked out of his chamber, footsteps echoing against the damp stone, his heart steady and eager.
For Hidan, this day would not be an end.
It would be his true beginning.
.....
"Did the chosen one… actually rise so early?"
The cult leader's hoarse voice echoed through the crypt, carrying a note of surprise. He had expected Hidan to bury himself in the scroll all night, memorizing every detail until dawn.
Sure enough, the leader thought grimly, youth cannot suppress impatience.
But Hidan didn't flinch beneath his masked gaze.
"Cult Leader," he said flatly, his silver eyes steady. "I am ready to carry out the blessing of the evil god. No delays. Let's begin today."
"What!"
The cult leader's breath caught, disbelief rasping from his throat. For a moment, even the torchlight seemed to flicker.
He had known Hidan's determination. He had seen it in the boy's eyes. But still—
A child, standing calmly before him, declaring readiness to undergo a ritual that had killed everyone before him? A ceremony with a mortality rate of one hundred percent?
It was madness.
And yet… Hidan said it as if it were nothing more than a simple chore.
The leader's gloved hands trembled at his sides.
Is this recklessness… or faith?
No matter the answer, he felt the stirrings of both fear and awe.
"I will repeat it again…"
Hidan's voice was cold and calm.
"I will immediately carry out the blessing of the evil gods."
The cult leader drew a long, rasping breath.
"…As you wish."
His masked gaze lingered on the boy, unsettled by his calmness. "Then I will take you to the laboratory next."
"That couldn't be better."
Hidan's lips finally curled into a smile.
But in the eyes of the cult leader, that smile was wrong...so wide and alive that even an executioner would have felt a shiver.
"Come with me."
The cult leader turned, his black robes dragging against the stone floor, and Hidan followed him without hesitation.
The path stretched endlessly.
They walked in silence until a faint light appeared ahead. The crypt's depth was staggering, as though it wanted to bury its secrets beneath layers of stone.
When they finally entered the chamber, the stench hit immediately.
A cold, foul smell that made Hidan wrinkle his nose.
Before him stretched a cavern the size of an auditorium.
Strange instruments filled the space, some metallic, some carved with runes.
Several giant glass containers lined the wall.
Inside them floated pale chunks of flesh, suspended in scarlet liquid. The bodies had long since lost their spark of life, failures left behind, preserved as references for further study.
Wow. A giant cave full of meat jars. Very tasteful interior design.
Hidan pinched his nose. If Orochimaru had built this, at least it would look organized. This is more like… budget mad scientist chic.
"This," the cult leader rasped, raising his arms as though unveiling a divine altar, "is the sacred temple where Lord Jashin blesses his followers."
He turned his head toward Hidan.
"You will welcome his blessing here. I can only wish you good fortune. May the next time we meet, you stand as the sole bearer of his divine gift."
With that, he left without hesitation.
Though the experiment was commanded by him, he had no intention of touching the instruments himself.
He calls it a temple, but it looks more like a slaughterhouse someone forgot to clean. And of course, he ditches the work to his underlings. Classic management.
Hidan's gaze flicked over the cultists waiting inside.
All of them stared at him with a mixture of reverence and fanaticism.
Reverence, because he was the Chosen one.
Fanaticism, because the Chosen one had willingly agreed to become their test subject.
They're looking at me like I'm both a saint and a guinea pig. Honestly, that's impressive multitasking.
He exhaled softly, pulling his robe tighter.
"Let's get started."
Hidan's voice was steady, without even a tremor.
What surprised him most was himself. He knew this was different from the anime, this was reality, and failure could mean death. Yet no fear stirred in his chest.
Instead… there was only calm.
And, deep down, a flicker of excitement.
"Yes!"
The chorus of believers responded as one, their voices echoing through the chamber.
They began bustling about, hands moving with practiced precision, preparing instruments, mixtures, and scrolls.
"Lord Chosen One," a believer spoke respectfully, holding a syringe filled with glowing azure fluid.
"This injection will bring you into suspended animation. It marks the beginning of the blessing."
"You will then be placed into the container, where the blood of the evil god will saturate your body. Gradually… it will transform you. Of course, there is the risk of..."
"Needless to say."
Hidan cut him off coldly.
"Just do it."
"Yes!"
The needle pierced his skin.
A sudden wave of dizziness crashed over him, the stone chamber spinning violently.
His knees buckled, the world blurring into streaks of torchlight, and then...darkness.
His body was stripped bare under the fanatic eyes of the cultists.
Hands lifted him reverently, almost tenderly, and lowered him into the massive glass container.
Scarlet liquid poured in, rising higher and higher until he was completely submerged.
The surface rippled as tubes connected to the tank hissed, pumping streams of green, black, and silver fluids into the mixture.
The believers sank to their knees as one.
Dozens of robed figures pressed their foreheads to the stone floor, hands clasped, their voices rising in feverish prayer.
Every word was for him.
Every breath, every chant, was for the boy floating in blood.
So this is it…
In the last flicker of his consciousness, Hidan's mind remained steady.
The place where their faith ends… and mine begins.
...
Time slid by like a shadow.
In the glass container, Hidan's body floated in silence. Pale skin against scarlet liquid, he looked every bit a corpse...limp, breathless and looking very lifeless.
The believers remained on their knees, foreheads pressed to stone, lips moving in ceaseless prayer.
Waiting.
Click.
A sound cut through the chamber.
Then another.
Click… click…
The thin crack of glass breaking rang like music in the stillness, crisp and strangely pleasant.
Dozens of robed heads lifted at once, eyes blazing with madness.
"Long live the evil god!"
"Long live the evil god!"
Their shouts overlapped into a frenzy. To them, the sound was not of glass, it was of prophecy fulfilled.
Boom!
The container shattered outward with a single punch. Shards rained onto the stone, splattering trails of red across the floor.
Hidan stepped forward, blood dripping from his skin in heavy rivulets, his silver hair plastered to his forehead.
Each step was steady, deliberate.
Inside, though, his chest surged with exhilaration.
So this is it… this power. Immortality. What could possibly be sweeter?
His eyes gleamed with something between joy and madness.
"Take me to the bath," Hidan said simply, his voice calm, commanding.
"Tonight, I will hold a ceremony. See that no one is absent."
The believers bent lower, voices trembling with feverish devotion.
"Yes, Lord Hidan! Yes!"
To them, the evil god himself had descended in human form.
Hidan turned, leaving the wreckage behind him, blood trailing across the stone floor like a new scripture.
The believers scrambled after him, their shouts echoing down the dark passageways.
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