The Fall of a World

The mall was still intact mostly. The lights flickered uncertainly, casting long, jagged shadows across abandoned storefronts. Blood smeared the floors in erratic trails, some leading to darkened corridors, others vanishing beneath overturned shelves. Somewhere in the distance, a metal shutter groaned, swaying in the still air.

Saeko's grip on her sword tightened. "Why are we here?" Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it a readiness for violence, should the need arise.

Orochimaru stepped forward, his movements unhurried, deliberate. The seal he had placed on her and Shizuka still tingled against their skin, a lingering reminder of his presence of his control.

"We take everything," he said.

Beyond these walls, his clones scoured the city, hollowing it out like carrion birds picking a carcass clean. But here, within the hushed corridors of the mall, they would claim what remained electronics, medicine, food, books. Whatever could be salvaged.

Because this world? It would be the foundation of his empire.

Orochimaru did not lurk in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike that was the folly of the weak. Power hoarded in secret was power wasted. And unless one could stand against a god, hiding in the dark was nothing but an extended death sentence.

No. He would carve his dominion from every avenue politics, influence, control. Strength alone was not enough. To rule, he needed more. Resources. Infrastructure. People.

And this world?

It would serve him well.

"Take what you need," he said, his voice even as he strode deeper inside.

The dead had already been cleared. He had used their instincts against them, drawn them with sound, slaughtered them in waves. A crude but effective method. Now, the silence was near absolute.

As they moved, Shizuka glanced at him. "How many worlds have you seen?"

He ran a hand along shelf, sweeping an entire row of instant noodles into a scroll. "This is the first."

Saya watched the scroll with narrowed eyes. "I need one of those." Then, after a pause, her expression shifted. "Wait. You're saying this is your first time?"

Silence settled between them.

Their gazes met. The same thought passed between them all.

Two life-shattering events in a single day. Just how deep did this nightmare run?

Orochimaru didn't stop gathering supplies. "I wasn't born with this ability."

Saya folded her arms. "Then how?"

A small smirk. "You'll find out eventually."

"Tch." She exhaled sharply. "And your world? Are all of you… like this? Able to summon fire, create clones, walk on walls?"

"Not all," he admitted. "We are the minority."

Their curiosity burned, so he indulged them with system of his world.

Like Power, in his world, was not a matter of raw strength alone. Bloodlines, deception, sheer will these were the weapons of those who endured. The weak could rise, if they had the mind for it. Or they could be crushed before they had the chance to try.

Power was never given. It was taken.

Shizuka hesitated. "Then why weren't you chosen?"

Silence.

Saeko's expression darkened. Orochimaru was strong—far beyond what they had seen. Why would his own village reject someone like him?

Saya understood first.

"They didn't choose you because you were too strong," she murmured. "Too experienced. You couldn't be controlled."

A flicker of amusement crossed Orochimaru's face. He tilted his head, watching her with something almost… pleased.

"Too strong?" he mused. "Or too dangerous?"

She studied him carefully. If he spoke the truth, then he was a genius among his kind. The kind of man who saw the world not in black and white, but in predators and prey.

Orochimaru let the moment stretch before answering. "My teacher feared what I would become. And power… is not something easily relinquished. So he chose another—a child. Talented, but inexperienced. Someone who could be led."

"A puppet," Saya said bitterly.

She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling. "And no one in your world knows about this… ability of yours?"

"No one."

Shizuka hesitated. "And your family?"

For a moment, something flickered behind his eyes something dark, something buried. But it passed as quickly as it had come.

"The only blood I have is long dead," he said smoothly. "They died in war."

The words were weightless, spoken without feeling.

But in the reflection of a shattered storefront, his gaze lingered for half a second too long on a faded poster. A child laughing, held high in a father's arms.

"So," Shizuka asked, watching him closely, "do you want revenge?"

"Revenge?" A soft chuckle. "What a dull motivation."

He swept another shelf clean, voice even. "Power, politics… they do not bend to petty grievances."

A smirk played at his lips. "Besides… I'd say I came out ahead. He sits behind a desk, drowning in bureaucracy, while I do what I was born to do."

Saya tilted her head. "And that is?"

His smirk widened.

"Discovery."

To study. To learn. To unravel the secrets of existence itself.

What was a throne, compared to the keys of the universe?

None of them could argue.

Saya's brow furrowed. "Are there limits? A cooldown? Restrictions?"

She doubted he had full control. If he did, he wouldn't have asked so many questions when they met.

Orochimaru leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "A limit, yes. And a cooldown."

Saya's eyes narrowed. "How long?"

He tilted his head slightly. "That depends."

A lie. Or at least, not the full truth.

He knew more than he was letting on. But Saya understood why.

If she had this power…

She wouldn't reveal everything either.