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Please look directly at the Sharingan before proceeding!
"The game ends here, Sarutobi-sensei."
A wide, predatory grin split Orochimaru's face, his voice a sibilant hiss that promised no more mercy. The time for toying with his former teacher was over.
On the opposite side of the rooftop, hemmed in by the Four Purple Flame Formation, the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, felt a familiar chill run down his spine. He knew that look in his former student's eyes—the cold, clinical gleam that appeared only when Orochimaru was about to unveil something truly monstrous. With a swift, practiced motion, Hiruzen shrugged off his heavy Hokage robe, revealing the seasoned shinobi armor beneath. Age had slowed his body, but not his will.
"It's a true pity," Orochimaru taunted, his long tongue flicking out to wet his lips. "But you have grown old, sensei. Your era is dust."
His hands flashed, forming a sequence of seals that sent a jolt of pure horror through Hiruzen's heart. The Hokage's eyes widened, his blood running cold as he recognized the forbidden pattern. That Jutsu! He wouldn't dare!
"I won't let you complete it!" Hiruzen roared, his voice cracking with desperation. He flung a single shuriken forward, his own hands a blur. "Shuriken Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
The air itself seemed to scream as one shuriken multiplied into a thousand, a dense, metallic storm hurtling towards the Snake Sannin. But it was too late. With a final, triumphant seal from Orochimaru, the very tiles of the rooftop buckled and splintered.
Thud! Thud!
Two ancient, wooden coffins erupted from the ground, shielding Orochimaru and weathering the storm of shuriken with ease. The characters etched on their fronts were like a punch to Hiruzen's gut: 'First' and 'Second'. The souls of the Shodai and Nidaime Hokage, the very founders of Konoha, had been defiled.
But the horror wasn't over. Two more coffins began to push their way upwards from the fractured floor. Hiruzen's breath hitched. One coffin lid already displayed the stark character for 'Four'. The other, even more terrifyingly, showed the character 'Nami'.
"No… It can't be!" Hiruzen whispered, a cold sweat drenching his back. He couldn't allow this. He would not allow it! With a clap of his hands, he poured every ounce of his chakra into the suppression, his aging frame trembling with the strain. "I will not let them out!"
Orochimaru watched the struggle with undisguised glee, his laughter a dry rustle. "So, the esteemed Hokage-sama can still feel fear! A delightful sight."
Of course, the final two were mostly for psychological warfare. He knew perfectly well that the soul of the Yondaime, Minato Namikaze, was sealed within the Shinigami's stomach. And the other… the other was Minato's elder brother—Namikaze Raimon! Summoning that man was a death wish even he wasn't foolish enough to tempt.
The mere thought of Raimon loose upon the world again was enough to make every shinobi from the Five Great Nations clench their… well, let's just say they'd all be fighting with a significant handicap.
BOOM…
Under the Hokage's desperate will, the coffins marked 'Four' and 'Nami' began to recede, sinking back into the abyss of the forbidden jutsu. Hiruzen let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping. "Thank the heavens… That wicked disciple… he truly gave this old man a fright."
The coffin of the Fourth had vanished completely. But just as relief began to bloom, a new dread took root. The coffin marked 'Nami' shuddered. Then, against all of Hiruzen's chakra, against all reason, it pushed upwards.
"H-how?!" Hiruzen stammered, his face pale.
"Fool! Orochimaru! Stop this madness at once! Release the jutsu!" he commanded, his voice echoing with the authority of the Hokage.
But Orochimaru's smug confidence had shattered, replaced by genuine, wide-eyed panic. "I—I can't! I don't understand! The control… it's slipping! This wasn't supposed to happen!" He had only meant to rattle the old man, not unleash a cataclysm.
A single drop of Hiruzen's cold sweat hit the rooftop with a sound like a thunderclap in the sudden silence. "It's over," he breathed, his worst nightmare coming to life.
BANG!
The wooden lid of the 'Nami' coffin didn't open—it was violently kicked off, splintering into a thousand pieces. From within the dusty interior, a playful, almost bored voice rang out.
"Yare yare daze… Finally! Did I make it to the Fourth Great Ninja War? Took you guys long enough!"
A figure stepped out, stretching his limbs as if waking from a long nap. This was Namikaze Raimon. He blinked, his bright, intelligent eyes taking in the scene with obvious confusion. His gaze swept past a terrified Hiruzen and a panicked Orochimaru, then landed on the reanimated First and Second Hokages.
"Eh? Why is it the Sandaime, this old geezer? And the founding fathers? This shouldn't be the lineup for the Fourth War!"
Namikaze Raimon, in a past life, had been a corporate wage slave, his spirit crushed by modern society until a runaway truck on a national highway had unceremoniously delivered him to the world of shinobi. Reborn as the elder brother of the prodigy Minato Namikaze, he had carved his own legend during the Third Great Ninja War. A legend not of noble heroism, but of such insidious, creatively cruel ninjutsu that the Four Great Shinobi Villages had temporarily set aside their differences for one singular, joint goal: his permanent elimination.
Raimon narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Hiruzen Sarutobi with deep suspicion. "This is all wrong. I specifically told my idiot little brother not to marry a red-haired jinchuriki and, for Kami's sake, not to take the Hokage hat. So why are you still in office, Sarutobi-jiji? Did the candidate pool dry up that badly?"
He shook his head, the pieces clicking into place as he observed the Chunin Exam stadium below, sealed off by the barrier. "Ah… I see. So it's this party. Orochimaru's little coup." A smirk played on his lips. "Maybe I was overthinking it."
Then, his expression softened, a genuine warmth entering his eyes. "Speaking of which, Sarutobi, old monkey, where's my cute little Minato? He should be Hokage by now, baka. Shouldn't he be dealing with this mess?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi felt a fresh wave of cold sweat. How could he possibly explain? How could he tell this man that his beloved brother was dead, that he had sacrificed himself to seal the Nine-Tails? The consequences were unthinkable. "W-well now… Raimon-kun, I can explain…" he began, his voice trembling.
Just then, the reanimated Shodai Hokage, Hashirama Senju, broke the tension with his booming, oblivious voice. "Yo, Sarutobi! Long time no see! You've gotten so old, little monkey!"
Before any further nostalgic greetings could be exchanged, Orochimaru's cold voice cut through the air, laced with a nervous edge. "Enough reminiscing! This is not a family reunion!"
Though his own scalp was prickling with unease, Orochimaru clung to his faith in the Edo Tensei. He formed a hand seal, forcing his will upon the summoned souls. "The time for talk is over!"
The Shodai and Nidaime stiffened, their free wills suppressed. With a flicker of movement, Orochimaru produced two kunai tipped with control talismans and embedded them into the backs of their skulls. He then turned his attention to Raimon, his hand raising a third, glowing kunai.
Namikaze Raimon merely snorted, a sound dripping with contempt. "Hmph. A mere garden snake actually dares to think it can control a dragon? How presumptuous."
He didn't even move to dodge. He simply stood there, and the invisible bonds of the Edo Tensei shattered around him like glass. Then, his hands moved in a single, fluid, familiar seal.
"Edo Tensei: Kai! (Release!)"
The talisman on the Third Hokage's mind screamed in protest. This was impossible! Only the creator of the jutsu, Tobirama-sensei himself, should possess such knowledge!
In the next instant, Raimon vanished. There was no puff of smoke, no blur of speed—he was simply in one place, and then he wasn't. The principles of space itself bent to his will.
THWACK!
A powerful kick connected squarely with Orochimaru's jaw, sending the Snake Sannin flying backwards to crash against the rooftop barrier.
Seeing Raimon not only break free but also casually employ the Flying Thunder God Technique and the Edo Tensei Release in the span of a heartbeat, both Orochimaru and Hiruzen were utterly terrified.
"Orochimaru, you fool! Look at the catastrophe you've unleashed!" Hiruzen mentally screamed. If Raimon learned the truth about Minato, all of Konoha would be turned upside down! This was the man who had once been a walking terror on the battlefield, whose very name made enemy Kage break out in a cold sweat. He would make Hiruzen wish for a clean death from the Shinigami itself.
The Hokage's mind flashed back to the horrors of the Third War. Enemies who had fallen victim to Raimon's "innovations" often chose to end their own lives in despair rather than live with the… aftermath. The memories were seared into his brain.
The Electric Light Poison Dragon Drill, a mutated Wind and Lightning Release Rasengan that homed in with vicious accuracy. The Ultraman Kick, a taijutsu move focused solely on crippling the lower back—Ohnoki of Iwagakure had been kicked so hard he suffered chronic back spasms for years.
His Earth Release was perhaps the most feared; he'd call out "Here, a golden pill for your health!" before using Hiding like a Mole Jutsu to shove a giant, solidified kidney stone into an enemy's… nether regions. The resulting condition made passing urine an agony beyond description. His Water Release techniques could induce hydronephrosis from a distance.
Had Hiruzen ever seen a shinobi in so much pain they used a kunai to perform a desperate, self-inflicted… modification? Yes.
Had he ever seen a man claw out his own kidney to stop the eternal, searing pain? Unfortunately, yes.
While Hiruzen was lost in his traumatic recollections, a subconscious, deeply-ingrained survival instinct took over. His hands trembled as he quietly reached into his ninja tool pouch, retrieving a special, chakra-conductive metal butt plate he'd had commissioned years ago "just in case," and discreetly secured it in place. One could never be too careful around Raimon.
The kicked-away Orochimaru rose slowly, his neck cracking at an unnatural angle. He stared at Raimon, his mind reeling. "How… how is this possible?!" This defied every law of ninjutsu he understood.
"Ah, well," Raimon sighed, cracking his knuckles. "I'll deal with the slippery snake first. Then, I'll have a nice, long chat with the Hokage about where my little brother is slacking off. That kid, he's probably a father by now! I hope he listened to me and found a nice, safe girl from accounting."
A genuine smile touched his lips at the thought of his brother having a family. He wondered if, despite his warnings, Minato had still fallen for the fiery Kushina, and if his adorable nephew Naruto existed in this timeline.
His smile vanished as he turned his gaze back to Orochimaru, his expression now one of pure, unadulterated menace. "Orochimaru-kun~ Have you given any thought to your preferred method of departure? I have a menu of options."
"Relics of a bygone era should be content to stay buried!" Orochimaru spat, his confidence returning as he forced his will through the talismans. "Shodai-sama! Nidaime-sama! Eliminate him!"
Phew, Orochimaru thought, a sliver of relief returning. Good thing I managed to keep control of these two. With their power, even he will be—
The two legendary Hokages began their advance. Hashirama, ever the kind soul even in this state, offered a warning. "Young man, I apologize. We are not in control of our actions. Please, be careful!"
Namikaze Raimon just pouted, utterly unimpressed. "Not in control? Don't give me that, Shodai-sama. With your mastery of Senjutsu and chakra levels, you could have broken that paltry control the moment you appeared if you'd really wanted to. You're just curious to see what I'll do, you old gossip."
Hashirama and Tobirama, having died before Raimon's rise, didn't understand the terror he inspired. They saw only a cheeky blond man. A fatal miscalculation.
A familiar, high-pitched whirring sound filled the air. On Raimon's right palm, blue chakra swirled violently, condensing into a Rasengan. But it didn't stop there. The sphere contorted, morphing into a long, menacing drill bit crackling with lightning and howling with wind.
WHRRRRR-CHAKA-CHAKA!
Hiruzen Sarutobi, seeing the iconic glow, broke out in a fresh cold sweat. His body moved on pure instinct, his hand unconsciously checking the security of the metal plate on his rear. At the same time, he shouted a desperate, heartfelt warning to his predecessors.
"SHODAI-SAMA! NIDAIME-SAMA! BE CAREFUL! DO NOT LET HIT GET HIT BY THAT!"
"Flying Thunder God: Step Two!"
In a flash of yellow, Raimon vanished. A specially-marked kunai he'd seemingly tossed aside earlier was now right behind Tobirama. Raimon's form materialized in that very spot, his body already in motion, the screaming drill aimed with terrifying precision.
His voice rang out, a triumphant battle cry that promised unparalleled suffering:
"Fuuton Raiton Hiden Gokui Taijutsu Ougi! Sen-nen no Karyu Raiten Denko Supiraru Doriru!"
(Wind Release Lightning Release Ultimate Secret Taijutsu Technique! One-Thousand Year Electric Light Spiral Ascension Poison Dragon Drill!)