He learned more ruthless Kenjutsu, more ferocious Fire Style, learned to use the power of the Curse Mark, learned to survive in the darkness, learned to... cast aside all emotion.
That awkward gentleness he once had, his concern for his comrades, his wavering over the village, were worn away bit by bit. He grew colder, stronger, more and more like a blade that knew only slaughter.
Kabuto often watched him and sighed softly. "What terrifying willpower... Lord Orochimaru's vessel may very soon turn the tables on him."
Sasuke heard him, but did not care at all.
He cared about only one thing—to grow stronger, and kill Itachi.
Three years passed in the blink of an eye.
The youth of the past had shed his immaturity. His figure was tall and straight, his face cold and stern, his black hair falling around him. The Three-Tomoe Sharingan in his left eye turned steadily, and the patterns of the Curse Mark were completely under his control, free to appear and disappear at will. The aura around him was icy and sharp, enough to chill anyone with a single glance.
He was no longer Second Pillar of the Leaf.
He was an avenger, Second Pillar.
On this day, Orochimaru's aura grew weaker and weaker, his body constantly decaying, and the Reincarnation Technique was about to be activated. He looked at Sasuke, his gaze still greedy, but now with a trace of wariness.
"Sasuke, the time has come... It is time for you to become my vessel."
Sasuke stood before him, his eyes indifferent, without the slightest fear.
"You said you would give me power." Sasuke slowly drew the Kusanagi Sword at his waist, the blade flashing with a cold gleam. "Now, I have already obtained that power. And you... are useless now."
Orochimaru's expression