The world returned as a series of rhythmic, heavy jolts.
The rough, sweating hide of Jirobo's shoulder pressed against Sasuke's cheek, smelling of stale earth and old salt. Sasuke's limbs felt like leaden weights, his chakra dampened into a stagnant pool deep in his gut. Above, a dark canopy of tall, thin trees shredded the twilight, the rain-soaked leaves dripping cold needles of water onto his neck.
Tooooo-
Ahead, Tayuya's dark pink hair flared wildly behind her as she blew into her flute. The sound caused the colossal stone sculpture of a snake's head jutting out from the forest floor to unhinge its jaw. Its grey skin was weathered and stained with moss: the gaping black void framed by massive stone fangs served as the portal, large enough to swallow the entire group without a sound. Jirobo didn't break stride, his heavy boots thudding against the grey stone as he carried Sasuke into the throat of the base.
The transition from the forest to the interior hit with a claustrophobic, digestive weight. The hallways shifted from cold stone to wood, but the grain offered no comfort. It swirled in repetitive, dizzying circles and interlocking waves that created a sense of constant, crawling motion. Candles flickered in bowl-shaped wooden sconces, casting long, wavering shadows that stretched down the narrow gullet.
Kabuto led them into the sanctum. The vast, high-ceilinged chamber blended temple aesthetics with the cold utility of a prison. A massive sculpture of a coiled snake dominated the back wall, carved from dark, heavy stone, while glowing orange pillars provided an eerie, warm backlight to the space.
Orochimaru sat beneath the high balcony, his pale skin appearing almost translucent in the candlelight. Sakon stood nearby as a temporary guard, and craned their neck to allow Ukon to see as Kabuto stepped forward and offered the Gelel shard to Orochimaru—the prize Sasuke had bled for in the Land of Wind.
"A gift? How thoughtful." Orochimaru's voice carried a thin, predatory hiss. He cocked his head, his eyes drifting upward as if tracking a scent in the rafters. "Kabuto."
"Yes, Lord Orochimaru?"
"Have the twins give the boy a bath."
Orochimaru flicked his wrist, throwing the shard back. Kabuto caught the fragment with a sharp clack of bone against stone. He offered a half-bow and gestured for the Sound Three to follow.
They hauled Sasuke deeper into the hive. They passed through the laboratory, where vertical stasis tanks filled with glowing, cyan-blue liquid lined the walls. Sasuke caught the scent of stagnant fluids and industrial cleaning agents before Kabuto shoved aside a hidden shelf, revealing a secret door. Tayuya stepped forward, flute to her lips.
Toooooo-
Sasuke grit his teeth; every sharp note from Tayuya's instrument was a dagger in his skull.
The torchlight on the stairs began to bleed into the shadows, the orange flames stretching into long, jagged needles of light that pierced Sasuke's retinas. The walls seemed to pulse, the wood grain vibrating at a frequency that made his inner ear ring with a high-pitched, metallic whine.
As they hit the first landing, Sasuke felt a spark of cold fury override the lead in his veins. He lunged, trying to twist out of Jirobo's grip, his hand reaching for a kunai that wasn't there. His fingers lacked the strength to even form a fist; they brushed uselessly against Jirobo's thick neck.
Jirobo didn't even grunt. He simply shifted his weight, allowing Sasuke to slide off his shoulder and collide with the stone wall. Sasuke hit the floor with a hollow thud, his vision fracturing into a mosaic of grey and gold. He tried to push himself up, but his elbows buckled instantly, his face pressing into the gritty dust of the landing. Sakon/Ukon snorted at his futile attempt.
Kabuto stopped, looking down with a clinical, bored expression. "Carrying the Gelel shard was taxing, wasn't it? Your biology is working on a deficit. Don't waste what little heat you have left."
Jirobo reached down, grabbed Sasuke by the back of his collar like a stray dog, and dragged him the rest of the way down the steps. Sasuke's boots scuffed uselessly against the stone, his head lolling as the stairs turned into a dark, spiraling smear.
The air grew humid, thick with the smell of mineral deposits and something sharper—venom. In the center of the circular room was a pond where the water didn't ripple; it sat in a dark, stagnant basin, reflecting the flickering torchlight like a sheet of black glass. The water carried an unnatural mineral-heavy weight.
Kabuto reached into a pouch and pulled out a small, gritty sphere. The Mind Awakening Pill. He forced Sasuke's jaw open, the bitter, medicinal chalk coating Sasuke's tongue as he was forced to swallow. The drug hit his system like a localized explosion, the Cursed Seal on his neck beginning to throb.
"Don't let him up until he dies... or the mark activates," Kabuto murmured.
Jirobo didn't hesitate. He hoisted Sasuke up and tossed him into the center of the pool.
Sasuke's mind struggled against the roar of the Cursed Seal and the intense convulsing in his stomach.
Bile landed in his throat as his body hit the freezing water like a physical blow.
Thoughts criss-crossed. Memories flashed faster than he could grasp, so instead, he reached for the light.
As he breached the surface, Sakon and Ukon separated. One brother gripped Sasuke's shoulders while the other emerged from the water behind him, a third arm sprouting from a shoulder to lock across Sasuke's throat.
The spring wasn't just water; it had the crushing pressurized weight of the deep ocean.
Sasuke clawed at the surface, his fingers slipping on the wet, interlocking limbs of Sakon/Ukon. They held him down with the mechanical stability of a vice.
Oxygen deprivation set in within seconds.
Sasuke's lungs burned, a sharp, searing fire that demanded a breath the water wouldn't give. His heart hammered a frantic, irregular rhythm against his ribs. A spike of adrenaline flooded his system, attempting to unblur the jagged, static surface of the world above him.
He stopped thinking about the shard, the seal, and power.
He stopped thinking about his brother, his team, and his home.
He stopped thinking at all.
The world narrowed to the crush on his chest and the blur of shapes pressuring him down.
The Cursed Seal on his neck erupted.
A jagged, black flame-pattern tore across his skin, the ink-like marks radiating a sudden, violent heat that boiled the water around his collar. The contamination speed accelerated, the seal's poison stitching through his nervous system with the speed of a lightning strike.
Deep beneath the surface, Sasuke's eyes slowly opened—not the Sharingan, not his normal eyes—his iris was a sickly yellow and the sclera shared the same blackness as the encroaching darkness of the mark consuming him.