The ruined outskirts of the stadium presented a stark contrast to the chaos within. Here, the air was thick with a chilling stillness, a prelude to the storm about to break. Dust motes, illuminated by the fading sunlight, danced in the oppressive silence, creating an eerie, almost spectral atmosphere. The ground, scarred and cracked from the earlier battles, seemed to hold its breath, anticipating the clash of legends.
Orochimaru, his serpentine eyes gleaming with malicious amusement, stood before Hiruzen and Jiraiya, his pale skin contrasting sharply with the darkening sky. His long, black hair, usually meticulously styled, now whipped around his face, adding to his unsettling aura.
"Sarutobi-sensei," he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper, "how touching. You came to witness your own demise. After all these years, you still cling to this pathetic village."
Hiruzen, his face etched with grim determination, met Orochimaru's gaze. "Orochimaru," he retorted, his voice firm, "your obsession with destruction will be your undoing."
Jiraiya, his eyes narrowed, stepped forward,"Orochimaru, you've crossed a line this time. You'll pay for this."
Orochimaru chuckled, a low, unsettling sound. "Pay? I'm merely rewriting history, Jiraiya. A necessary cleansing."
Slightly closer, but still within the ruined outskirts, the Sound Four engaged 20 Anbu, their movements a blur of enhanced speed and brutal efficiency.
Kidomaru, his multiple eyes scanning the battlefield, unleashed a barrage of spider web laced arrows, each strike precise and deadly. "You weaklings bore me," he sneered, his voice laced with contempt.
Jirobo, his hulking frame a wall of muscle, slammed his fists into the ground, creating tremors that sent Anbu flying. "Out of my way!" he roared, his voice a primal growl.
Sakon and Ukon, their conjoined bodies a grotesque display of twisted anatomy, moved with a synchronized ferocity, their attacks a relentless barrage of coordinated strikes. "We are the ultimate defense," they hissed in unison, their voices a chilling echo.
Tayuya, her flute held aloft, weaved a haunting melody, her notes disorienting and weakening her opponents. "Dance to my tune, insects," she taunted, her voice a seductive whisper.
Each Sound Four member faced five Anbu, their enhanced abilities from the first stage Curse Mark overwhelming the defenders. Despite their numerical advantage, the Anbu struggled to defend against the relentless onslaught.
Back at the main confrontation, Orochimaru began the summoning ritual, his hands weaving intricate seals. The air grew heavy, the atmosphere thick with malevolent chakra. Three coffins rose from the ground, their presence radiating an unsettling aura. Kanji characters, glowing with an eerie light, adorned each coffin: 一 (sho - one), 二 (ni - two), 四 (yon - four).
"Behold," Orochimaru declared, his voice laced with triumph, "the true power of Edo Tensei. I summon Hashirama Senju, Tobirama Senju, and... Minato Namikaze!"
The first two coffins fully emerged, revealing the lifeless forms of the First and Second Hokage. But the third coffin, marked with the kanji for 'four,' rose only halfway before vanishing, leaving behind a faint, ethereal glow. Orochimaru's smile faltered, replaced by an expression of understanding. "Ah, of course," he muttered, "his soul is sealed. I had forgotten."
Hashirama and Tobirama, their eyes blank and their expressions devoid of emotion, emerged from their coffins. Their once vibrant forms were now pale and lifeless, their movements stiff and unnatural.
"Sarutobi," Hashirama's voice echoed, a hollow imitation of his former self, "is that you? What has become of you?"
"Edo Tensei?," Tobirama's voice was cold and sharp, "Never thought that one day my created jutsu will be used on me,ha?"
"But yhis State... it feels so weak," Tobirama said, his voice laced with a strange detachment. "I can barely feel 30% of my former strength."
"Mine... it's even worse," Hashirama replied, his expression blank. "Let's say 20% hardly."
"Indeed," Orochimaru replied, his voice laced with amusement. "The sacrifices I used were... less than ideal. And I had to place an excessive amount of seals to ensure your full cooperation. A necessary precaution."
Hiruzen, his expression grim, met their gaze. "Hashirama-sama, Tobirama-sama," he said, his voice laced with sorrow, "I am sorry. He has desecrated your souls."
Orochimaru, his smile returning, raised his hand. "Enough sentimentality," he commanded. "Attack!"
The summoned Hokage, their movements now controlled by Orochimaru's will, launched a coordinated assault, their legendary abilities unleashed with chilling precision. Hashirama unleashed wood style jutsus, and Tobirama countered with water style jutsus, and his speed.
Jiraiya and Hiruzen countered, the fight was joined. The ruined stadium outskirts became a battleground, the air thrumming with the clash of legendary powers.
Jiraiya, dodging a powerful wood style attack, thought to himself, "This is bad. They're strong, even at a fraction of their power. I need backup. I'll have to summon Fukasaku-sama and Shima-sama."