Orochimaru’s Magic Lamp

"Hiss..."

A snake's jaw split open unnaturally wide as it lunged at Obito, fangs flashing. Four razor-sharp teeth pierced into his flesh, injecting venom in a single strike.

But with a sharp bang, Obito's body vanished in a puff of smoke.

It had only been a clone.

The rage he'd shown earlier—an act. Nothing more than bait.

Orochimaru's eyes widened slightly in surprise. At that moment, a distorted vortex spun open behind him without warning. From within it, Obito emerged, reaching out and grabbing Orochimaru by the shoulder.

He was trying to drag him into the vortex.

Orochimaru instinctively tried to resist, but the spatial distortion caused a strange numbness to spread through his body. Before he could fully process what was happening, the sensation overtook him entirely. His vision blurred—and then, everything changed.

The sky above was bleak and cold. Beneath him lay rows of stone platforms, uneven and ancient. Around his feet, a dozen unconscious white snakes lay still.

Unlike more refined space-time techniques like summoning, Obito's Kamui was brutally rough. Anyone not attuned to spatial transitions would suffer disorientation—or worse. Even these snakes, infused with Orochimaru's chakra, couldn't withstand the trip. Their spirits were shaken; some had blacked out entirely.

Orochimaru himself wasn't naturally skilled in space-time techniques either. But thanks to his spiritual training—particularly his experience crossing in and out of the Pure Land—his mind had grown far stronger. While uncomfortable, he remained standing.

"So this is the alternate space the Djinn spoke of?"

As the numbness faded, he looked around calmly, then chuckled to himself.

"Good thing it's not that large. Otherwise, I'd have to abandon tonight's lesson entirely."

With that, he formed a seal with his hands. A puff of smoke rose from the stone floor as shadowy forms began to take shape.

---

Back in the Ninja World, under the same dark sky...

Obito stood silently, watching the vortex close after swallowing Orochimaru.

He scoffed.

"No wonder he could never become Hokage. Compared to the Fourth, he's laughably inferior."

"Is that so?"

A voice rang out behind a nearby tree.

From the shadows stepped Orochimaru—smiling, his eyes gleaming with mockery.

"A shadow clone?" Obito's expression changed. His eyes narrowed, burning red. "You set me up."

Orochimaru's grin deepened, but he didn't bother answering.

He had heard about Obito's abilities from the Djinn. How could he not prepare accordingly?

From the start, the one Obito fought had only been a clone—meant to test what would happen if Orochimaru was caught off guard.

And the result had been... encouraging.

Convenient though Obito's Mangekyō Sharingan was, it wasn't invincible. The clone still hadn't been dispelled. Kamui had limits.

"You should be grateful," Orochimaru said softly.

If this so-called "god" had truly posed a serious threat, Orochimaru wouldn't have held back—he would've gone all out to eliminate Obito entirely.

After all, even in pursuit of immortality, he couldn't stay on alert forever. But with his spiritual sensitivity ever growing, threats needed to be handled early.

Obito didn't know what Orochimaru was thinking. But the contempt in his voice was enough to ignite his fury.

His Sharingan glowed red with rage.

"Wood Release: Dazzling Hell!"

Countless thorn-covered branches erupted from the ground, sharp as spears and glinting like polished steel. With a deafening rustle, they surged toward Orochimaru in a violent wave.

"The First Hokage's Wood Release isn't this weak."

A smirk tugged at Orochimaru's lips as he formed hand seals.

"Sage Art: Inorganic Reincarnation."

With a surge of sage chakra, the land came alive. The earth rippled like a rising tide, swallowing the encroaching thorns and roots in one sweeping wave.

While Earth Release and Wood Release didn't have a strict elemental hierarchy, they weren't as incompatible as most assumed. Trees, after all, grew through soil by their very nature.

But now, both elements were wielded by shinobi—no longer acting on instinct, but on intent. In this battle, it wasn't about affinity. It was about power, technique, and will.

Obito's Wood Release, derived from grafted First Hokage cells, paled in comparison to the sage arts Orochimaru had painstakingly mastered.

The writhing brambles were crushed beneath layers of rock and earth. The dense soil, reinforced with sage chakra, was harder than concrete, suffocating the overgrown plants.

Then, from the ground, jagged stone spears erupted—countless projectiles hurtling toward Obito, still surrounded by the now-dying thorns.

His expression twisted. The speed of the incoming barrage was brutal—so fast, even his Mangekyō Sharingan struggled to track them.

He didn't hesitate.

A swirling vortex enveloped his body, and he vanished just as the spears tore through where he had stood.

---

In the alternate dimension...

Obito barely had time to breathe before he heard it—the hissing.

Loud, furious hissing.

He turned sharply. Serpents of all shapes and sizes writhed atop stone platforms, eyes locked on him. They surged forward in a frenzy, spurred by the scent of an intruder.

"So this was a trap…" Obito muttered.

Realization dawned.

The Orochimaru he'd dragged here earlier had been a shadow clone. It had survived the transfer. And now, he'd brought himself straight into the nest.

If he phased through attacks now—used his intangibility—he'd risk being struck from both inside and out. He was flanked.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as the snakes lunged. Sharingan spinning, he weaved through them, narrowly avoiding bites and crushing coils.

But the moment his foot touched down on a stone platform, it was already too late.

A hand appeared before him. Fingers like daggers drove into his chest.

"Gah—!" Obito coughed blood.

Orochimaru stood before him, a cold smirk on his face.

He had been waiting.

The strike had been calculated—brutal and precise. Pain, white-hot and unbearable, ripped through Obito's body, distorting his face with agony.

And yet, in the midst of it all... his mind was quiet.

He wondered—"Was this what Rin felt before she died?"

No. Hers had been worse. Orochimaru's hand could never compare to Kakashi's Chidori piercing her heart.

The thought lit a fire in his eyes. His Sharingan glowed with renewed fury. His will surged, and with a sudden movement, Obito drew a kunai.

With a blur, he stabbed it into Orochimaru's heart.

Poof—

Orochimaru's form burst like smoke.

A shadow clone.

Obito gritted his teeth. No time to rest. More snakes were closing in, their hisses rising into a chorus of fury.

His eyes flashed red. Space distorted.

With a sudden warp, Obito disappeared—reappearing thousands of meters away.

Between his ribs, white spores bloomed and swelled, rapidly repairing the gaping wound in his chest. They extended into the underground roots like a neural network, transmitting silent signals to his allies.

Knowing Orochimaru's sensory abilities, Obito didn't dare linger. He pushed his Mangekyō to its limits, hopping through space again and again.

Soon, he reunited with Black Zetsu and White Zetsu.

White Zetsu emerged halfway from the ground, wide-eyed. "What the hell happened to you?"

Black Zetsu frowned darkly. "You actually lost?"

Obito didn't answer.

"No time. Come with me."

Grabbing both of them, he pulled them into the Kamui dimension.

They, too, were born of Madara's grafted experiments—creations from the husk of the Ten-Tails' husk.

Obito knew their differences well.

Compared to the spores on his body, White Zetsu had far greater combat value.

And right now, he would need every edge he could get.

____________________

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