"If I had to put it into words, I find things that move interesting."
He raised his uninjured left hand, removed the Fourth Kazekage's hat he had been wearing all this time, and casually tossed it aside, revealing his eerily pale face and long black hair.
"A windmill that doesn't turn can be interesting too."
Orochimaru spread his arms as though embracing all of the chaos engulfing Konoha below. His voice suddenly rose, charged with an almost fanatical excitement.
"But it's hardly worth a glance."
His words slithered into the Third's ears like icy venomous snakes.
"This village, Konoha, is like a giant, rusted windmill, turning slower and slower, growing duller and duller."
Orochimaru turned, his golden snake eyes fixing on his teacher, Hiruzen Sarutobi.
"Now, I want to see whether this wind of destruction I'm unleashing on Konoha can make that old windmill... turn again.
"Or whether, at the moment it shatters completely, it will give off one final, dazzling shower of sparks?"
His purpose had nothing to do with power or hatred. He might not even truly want to destroy Konoha completely.
What he wanted was change, upheaval-the fascinating "unknowns" and "possibilities" beyond the ordinary that might emerge under the pressure of absolute chaos and destruction.
Naruto's performance, the young ninja struggling and fighting back below, and even the Third's response at this very moment were all "variables" and "phenomena" he was observing in this "experiment."
The Third fell silent.
As he looked at the pure, mad gleam in Orochimaru's eyes, his last shred of wishful thinking shattered.
He slowly raised a hand and lowered the brim of his Hokage Hat, concealing the grief, disappointment, and resolve churning in his eyes.
"You haven't changed at all, Orochimaru."
The Third's voice became utterly calm, yet carried the weight of