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Orochimaru was deep in his work, meticulously extracting and analyzing the cells of the First Hokage. The dimly lit lab was filled with the hum of machines, glass vials bubbling, and charts filled with complex data scattered across the tables. His long, pale fingers moved deftly over his instruments as he documented his latest findings. The human failures were many—subjects that had withered or mutated beyond recognition—but Orochimaru remained unfazed. This was the price to pay for immortality and the pursuit of true power.

He heard the faint sound of the door opening behind him, though he did not turn from his work. His eyes stayed fixed on the glowing sample under his microscope, a small smile curling his lips as he examined the promising progress.

"What do you want?" Orochimaru's voice was soft but cold, as if the intrusion was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

Behind him stood a Root agent, masked and expressionless, as all of Danzo's agents were trained to be. "Lord Danzo requires your aid immediately," the shinobi said, their voice emotionless and hollow, as if the words held no real meaning.

Orochimaru paused for a moment, his pale yellow eyes narrowing as he straightened and finally turned to face the agent. There was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze, but his expression remained unreadable. The agent visibly tensed under his gaze, their posture stiffening.

Without a word, Orochimaru silently rose from his seat, curiosity piqued. What could Lord Danzo possibly need so urgently that he would interrupt Orochimaru's work?

As Orochimaru followed the Root agent through the dim corridors of their underground lair, his mind raced with possibilities. Danzo rarely summoned him like this. Whatever had happened, it was important. And that only made it more interesting.

When they arrived, the sight of Danzo lying in a medical bed, the entire right side of his body wrapped in bandages, made Orochimaru's thin smile widen. The sight was unexpected—Danzo, the manipulative and ruthless leader of Root, was critically injured. His eyes gleamed with intrigue as he approached the bed, his serpentine gaze sweeping over the bandaged form.

Danzo's breathing was labored, his voice weak but sharp with determination as he rasped out, "Orochimaru… I need your help. I want the First Hokage's cells… I want you to use them to restore my body."

Orochimaru's eyebrows raised slightly, though he quickly suppressed the amusement threatening to break through. He had expected something dire, but this was beyond even his predictions. Danzo, the man who had always prided himself on his control and cunning, was desperate.

"The First Hokage's cells?" Orochimaru echoed, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. He turned back to the Root agents who were observing silently, enjoying their discomfort under his gaze. "It's not ready," he said with a mocking lilt to his voice, "Years out, at least."

The gleam in his eyes betrayed the truth. In reality, Orochimaru knew that with a little more time—perhaps a year or less—the process could be perfected. But why give something away for free when he could extract a higher price?

Danzo's expression twisted in frustration, his good hand clenching the side of his bed. "I don't have years!" he growled.

Orochimaru waved his hand dismissively before Danzo could continue. "Ah, but if I had more resources, perhaps… just perhaps, it could be accelerated."

Danzo's eyes narrowed, clearly picking up on the manipulation. "What do you need?" he demanded, his patience hanging by a thread.

Orochimaru's smile widened, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "Test subjects," he said with a slow, deliberate drawl, "Preferably children. They're more malleable, after all." His tone was almost casual, as if he were discussing something mundane. "And, of course, additional funding to continue the research at an expedited pace."

There was a brief silence in the room as Danzo weighed the demand. Orochimaru watched him with keen interest, fully aware that Danzo's desperation outweighed his ethics, if he had any left.

"Whatever you need," Danzo finally said, his voice cold and resolute. "I will make it happen."

Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. More resources, more subjects—it was all falling into place. With Danzo's full backing, he could finally push his experiments further than ever before.

He turned on his heel, cloak swishing behind him as he made his way toward the door, not bothering to glance back at the man lying in the bed. "Very well," he said over his shoulder. "I'll begin preparations immediately."

As Orochimaru left the room, his smile widened. Securing more test subjects was a win. The human failures so far had been disappointing, but with this new influx of resources, he could finally move toward success. He didn't care about Danzo's recovery, not really. But the research would be invaluable.

Danzo, on the other hand, watched him go, his mind already racing with plans. Orphanages, villages… it didn't matter where the subjects came from. He would find them. He would make the necessary sacrifices to restore his body. Danzo's mind lingered on the betrayal that had led to his current state, the flames of anger burning deep within him.

But Danzo's own survival mattered above all else. And he would do whatever it took to ensure his return to full power. As he lay back, the sharp pain in his body reminding him of his fragility, he swore that no matter the cost, he would rise again.