Fusion Experiment

Over the following month, Uchiha Narong's life entered a nearly sealed-off state, caught in a constant cycle between hope and pain. His daily schedule was fixed and oppressive: at dawn, he went to the laboratory on the edge of the Forest of Death, then ventured deep into the forest with Orochimaru and the newly joined junior disciple, Anko Mitarashi, entering that forbidden place hidden underground.

Anko, this little girl, had an astonishing ability to adapt. No one knew what method Orochimaru had used to "teach" her, but from the nervous unease she had shown when first entering the laboratory, and her fear of all kinds of instruments and specimens, she quickly grew used to it all. She even began helping pass over less dangerous equipment, watching Orochimaru and Narong's operations with wide, curious eyes. She seemed to regard Orochimaru as someone she could trust absolutely, accepting everything Orochimaru showed her wholesale. Narong looked at this girl who was gradually becoming "numb," and his feelings were somewhat complicated. He preferred the Anko before him now, who still retained a little innocence, rather than the female Jonin from the original work, shrouded in the shadow of the curse mark and betrayal. In his free time, Narong would occasionally give Anko some pointers on the most basic chakra control, or share some of the snacks he had brought with him. The relationship between the two of them had become much closer.

During this month, Narong reported to the village that he was "following Teacher Orochimaru for special training," and all regular missions were suspended. Naturally, this was the result of communication between Orochimaru and the Third Hokage. Narong knew full well that this so-called "training" was, in truth, cruel human experimentation.

Every day was the ultimate test of both will and flesh.

On the operating table, cold restraints fastened his limbs in place. Various sensor patches were connected to key acupuncture points and chakra pathway nodes on his body. Orochimaru would then operate that precise instrument, injecting an extremely tiny amount of First Hokage Hashirama Senju's cells, cells with astonishing vitality, into Narong's body through a special method.

Each injection was like having a red-hot branding iron stabbed into his meridians, and like being pierced and torn apart from within by countless thorns brimming with life. The vast Yang Release power and life energy contained within Hashirama cells were, to an individual without Senju bloodline, an extremely domineering, highly repulsive poison. They frantically tried to remodel and assimilate Narong's bodily tissues, while the powerful Yin Release chakra in the Uchiha bloodline instinctively mounted an intense resistance.

This conflict turned into tangible agony inside Narong's body. Every muscle in his body tightened, veins bulged, his teeth chattered from how hard he clenched them, and sweat soaked through his clothes in an instant. Beneath his skin, an abnormal flush sometimes rose, and sometimes strange wood-like patterns surfaced, only to quickly fade away again. Violent pain crashed into his nerves in wave after wave like a tide, almost making him pass out. He could only rely on the tenacious willpower of a transmigrator, far beyond others his age, and the mental strength constantly tempered by the Sharingan, to cling desperately to a sliver of clarity in his mind, striving to guide and soothe the two unruly powers within him, trying to make them find that infinitesimal point of balance amid their destructive conflict.

Orochimaru, meanwhile, was like the calmest scientist, closely monitoring every piece of data throughout the entire process, recording every change in Narong's body. A fanatical, probing light flickered in his golden snake pupils. "Good... the Uchiha bloodline is extraordinary after all. Such intense resistance means there is potential for fusion... hold on, Narong. Feel it. Guide it..."

Inside the laboratory, there was only the hum of operating instruments, Narong's suppressed groans of pain, and Orochimaru's occasional murmurs. Anko usually stayed quietly in the corner, watching her senior brother struggle in agony, her small hands clenched tight, her face carrying a tension beyond her years and a barely perceptible trace of fear.

At the end of each day's experiment, Narong was like someone completely drained, needing a long time before he could recover. Yet strangely, every time he struggled back from the brink of collapse, he could feel that the total amount of his chakra had increased by a barely noticeable sliver, and his body's toughness and recovery ability were slowly improving through the pain as well. This let him see hope, and it also made him grit his teeth and persist.

At the same time, far away underground, in the depths of a vast and gloomy cavern, the Gedo Statue stood like a sleeping giant. Countless pipes and vine-like objects extended from the statue's body, connecting to an aged, declining figure seated on an enormous chair.

Madara Uchiha. The Shinobi World's Asura, who had once founded Konoha together with the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, before later parting ways with him, was now at the end of his life, barely maintaining his vitality through the life force supplied by the Gedo Statue. His face was covered in wrinkles, his body hunched, and only those eyes, when they occasionally opened, still radiated a sharpness and depth that looked down upon the world.

A strange black-and-white creature like a pitcher plant—Black Zetsu—slowly emerged from the ground.

"Lord Madara." Black Zetsu spoke in a hoarse, sinister voice.

"How is the situation?" Madara's voice was old and hoarse, yet carried an unquestionable authority.

"Conflicts across the Shinobi World are intensifying. Hidden Sand, Hidden Stone, and Hidden Mist are growing increasingly dissatisfied with Konoha, and border clashes are constant. The fuse of the Third Shinobi World War has already been lit," Black Zetsu reported. "Everything is proceeding according to your plan. Chaos is the best breeding ground for carrying out the Eye of the Moon Plan."

Madara gave a slight nod. He was happy to see war brewing. "What about Konoha? Has the Uchiha Clan had any noteworthy young sprouts recently?" What he cared more about was the executor of his plan. He did not have much time left. He had to find a suitable Uchiha clansman to inherit his will and carry out the Eye of the Moon Plan.

"The White Zetsu have been monitoring them the entire time," Black Zetsu replied. "The Uchiha Clan has had something of a talent gap in recent years. Among the younger generation, for now, the clan head Uchiha Fugaku appears to have the best talent. He has already awakened the Mangekyo Sharingan, but his personality is too conservative and cautious, lacking boldness. I fear he may find it difficult to shoulder a great responsibility. There is also a child called Uchiha Narong. He is still young, but his talent seems quite good. He is worth paying attention to."

Madara fell silent for a moment, seeming to think. The Mangekyo Sharingan was the key to controlling the tailed beasts and casting Infinite Tsukuyomi. He needed a powerful pair of eyes, preferably Eternal Mangekyo eyes.

"Continue monitoring them. Focus on those younger ones with the potential to awaken the Mangekyo." Madara gave the order. "Also, how is Nagato doing?"

"The Rinnegan is growing very well within Nagato. He has already accumulated sufficient hatred toward this world filled with suffering. He is a crucial part of the plan, one of the key pieces for resurrecting you." Black Zetsu laughed darkly.

A trace of complexity flashed through Madara's eyes. Nagato was the Rinnegan host he had chosen, and also the sacrifice who would revive him through the Gedo Statue in the future. But the final execution of the plan still required a Uchiha. "At its core, the Eye of the Moon Plan ultimately requires the ocular power of the Uchiha to activate it. Find a suitable vessel, guide him to collect the tailed beasts, fuse with the Ten-Tails, become the Ten-Tails' Jinchuriki... then, after I am revived, I will personally cast Infinite Tsukuyomi and create a perfect dream world without war or pain."

This was the perfect script Madara had designed for himself: use the ambition and power of a Uchiha, most likely an Uchiha who had awakened the Mangekyo due to the death of friends or family and was filled with hatred, have him collect the tailed beasts, start a war, create chaos, and finally, after Madara's own resurrection, take over everything and realize true "peace."

"Black Zetsu," Madara said slowly, "you must choose carefully, and at the right time... provide guidance. When a suitable Uchiha appears, you know what to do. Let him experience the most extreme pain, lose what matters most to him, let hatred nourish his Mangekyo... then lead him onto the path of collecting the tailed beasts."

"Understood, Lord Madara." Black Zetsu's body slowly sank into the ground. "I will guide the next chosen Uchiha toward his destined fate, just as I guided Indra. For Mother's resurrection, for Infinite Tsukuyomi..." His final words were nearly inaudible, carrying an obsession that had lasted a thousand years.

The dark underground cavern returned to silence, leaving only the rhythmic pulsing of the Gedo Statue and Madara Uchiha's heavy breathing.