Naraka, the Thousand-Faced Demon

In the dim depths of the southern hideout's laboratory, the air was thick with the sweet, bloody smell of preservatives and flesh.

Orochimaru was watching the Canopy Screen. When he saw Black Zetsu's true identity, his whole body began to tremble uncontrollably.

"Heh... hehehe..." A low laugh escaped his throat, full of incredulous delight and the thrill of discovering the ultimate prey.

"Black Zetsu? That monster who's always lurked like a shadow around Obito Uchiha and the Akatsuki Organization is actually the Sage of Six Paths' own younger brother?"

He licked his lips without thinking, as though he could already taste the sweetness of that supreme knowledge.

"A thousand years! A pure being of will that's lived for over a thousand years! A form of existence beyond ordinary life and death!"

"This... this is the true prototype of immortality! Closer to its source than any Forbidden Technique or cell transplant!"

Greed so vast it nearly consumed him surged through every nerve like venom.

The ultimate goals he had pursued all his life—to master every truth in the world and attain eternal life—suddenly had a perfectly clear "specimen"!

Countless mad, tempting thoughts flooded his mind. If he could capture Black Zetsu, analyze his makeup, and understand how his will had endured for a thousand years...

Then extract the Chakra within him, which might be closer to the progenitor's than any other...

The gate to immortality, and even the path to power on the level of the Sage of Six Paths, would open wide before him!

He walked slowly to a huge container. Inside floated an experimental subject whose body was gradually fusing with First Hokage cells and a White Zetsu body.

He studied the twisted creation, a cold, greedy smile curling his lips.

"Black Zetsu. The perfect specimen. The ultimate answer. But he could also be the most dangerous trap."

"I mustn't rush," he murmured, his voice a serpentine hiss. "I have to be more careful."

"I need more information. I need to wait for a better opportunity."

"Perhaps I can find an opening through others who've learned the truth and bear Black Zetsu a grudge? Konoha, for example!"

The laboratory's dim light fell across his pale face, making his smile look all the more sinister and greedy.

As the various factions worked out how to respond to the revelation of Black Zetsu's identity, the Canopy Screen began to flicker again.

[The scene showed an extraordinarily well-hidden underground hall belonging to the Root Organization.]

[Shimura Danzō sat on a broad, roughly hewn stone seat.]

[He wore a dark cloak, his cane propped beside him. His one exposed eye gleamed with anxious anticipation in the dim light.]

[He leaned slightly forward, as though waiting for something.]

[Suddenly, an unseen ripple passed through the shadows before him, and a small, ugly Cursed Spirit crawled out.]

["Failure! The mission failed! Minato Namikaze is completely unharmed!"]

[The little Cursed Spirit repeated those three statements over and over in its grating voice.]

[Shimura Danzō's body went rigid. Then, slowly and stiffly, he leaned back against the stone seat.]

[His hand clenched around the armrest, veins standing out on its bony back.]

[In an instant, disappointment so intense it was almost tangible radiated from him.]

[He had never expected Mahito, that monster from the Nine Nether, to fail too.]

[It cast a shadow over his opinion of the Nine Nether—and meant his path to becoming Hokage now seemed hopeless.]

["Useless, all of them!" Shimura Danzō spat through clenched teeth, his voice low but laden with cold fury.]

[Then a Shuriken wrapped in Wind Release flew from his hand and shattered the little Cursed Spirit's head, cutting its grating voice short.]

[At the very moment Shimura Danzō was consumed by the news of the failure, his attention briefly slipped.]

[The shadow behind him, darkness that had seemed entirely natural, suddenly came alive.]

[It writhed, swelled, and deepened unnaturally, spreading like a drop of thick ink in clear water.]

[The darkness grew viscous and heavy. A faint rustling rose from it, like countless insects hissing or restless spirits whispering.]

[Then a cloying, rotten miasma spread silently through the hall, making its already foul air even more nauseating.]

[Shimura Danzō snapped to attention. His one eye swept sharply behind him as his body shifted into a defensive stance.]

[A figure slowly seeped out of the dense darkness.]

[First came fingers so pale they seemed bloodless, as though pieced together from countless fragments. They rested lightly on the back of the stone seat.]

[Then the monster's form emerged in full.]

[His body seemed made of roiling black miasma and shattered shadows, with an ominous purple aura coiling visibly around him.]

[His face was indistinct. Only two scarlet gleams shone within it, filled with inhuman malice and ancient hatred.]

[The Canopy Screen displayed a small line of text above his head: Naraka, the Thousand-Faced Demon!]

["Hehehehe..." A low, hoarse laugh rang out with layered echoes, as though it could burrow straight into the depths of the brain.]

[There was no pleasure in that laugh, only cold mockery and amusement.]

["It seems the 'new ally' you placed such high hopes in isn't infallible after all, Lord Danzo."]

[Naraka's voice was slow and warped, every syllable seeming as thick as the miasma around him.]

[Shimura Danzō stared hard at Naraka. His earlier disappointment quickly gave way to deeper wariness and disgust.]

[It was clear he knew of Naraka's existence, but he did not appreciate the way Naraka had appeared.]

["Naraka." Shimura Danzō's voice was icy. "Your appearances always bring unpleasant 'surprises.'"]

["Surprises?" Naraka's form drifted like mist, his scarlet gaze sweeping over Shimura Danzō.]

["I'm only here to remind you: working with the Nine Nether is like dancing at a cliff's edge. One misstep, and they'll devour you, bones and all!"]

[With that, he leaned slightly forward, his dense miasma almost touching Shimura Danzō.]

["Only a force like mine, one that bears the Uchiha a hatred carved into its bones, can be your most reliable 'partner.'"]

[His words were full of insinuation, disparaging the Nine Nether while raising his own value.]

[Shimura Danzō remained silent, the light in his one eye wavering.]

[He weighed his options, caught between his anger over the failed assassination of Minato Namikaze and his instinctive revulsion toward Naraka.]