Queen of Air and Darkness

III. Third Interlude

In the dark corridors of night, Sasuke dreamed of Naruto. His golden hair would be out of place here, where the land withered and the air was heavy with frost. What would he think of Sasuke, at the head of an army? Would he be disgusted by this new future? Would he be afraid?

The questions kept Sasuke up at night as he paced through battlefield camps. His companions were no comfort—the white creatures did not make conversation. They only knew him as their master, something to be obeyed. The magic that compelled them manipulated them until they became like clock-work dolls; acting without higher thought, carrying out some purpose demanded by others, and unfeeling except for their bloodlust.

For three years, they had been created in the caves of Madara's realm, cultivated for viciousness and inhumanity. Madara had not deigned to tell Sasuke of their origins, but Sasuke could feel the radiating waves of malice coming off of them. Zetsus, Madara had called them. They were not human, for all that they wore the shape. Their pale white skin and wide eyes were meant for subterranean caves, not the world of men. All Sasuke needed to know was that they would obey him. They could be plants, for all he cared. So long as they completed their mission, he had little interest in their inner workings.

Two of them stood out from the rabble, a mismatched set. They rode at the front of the line, one on each of Sasuke's sides. One was a pale, fetid, white, just as the rest of the army was. The other was its opposite, completely black. This wasn't the dark brown skin tone of the people of Kumogakure. No, its skin was the color of dyed black cloth, the color of the forest at midnight. There were no lingering hues, no signs of blood working beneath its flesh. It seemed to disappear at night, only visible for its bright golden eyes.

Had he become something other as well? Sasuke could not help but wonder if their strangeness, their lack of humanity rubbed off on him with each passing day. By the time they arrived at their destination, would he be unrecognizable, as far from human as the Zetsus were?

Naruto would know him for who he was, and he would know the betrayal that had been wrought.

He did not know what drew the Zetsu's to Madara's service, nor what separated them from the rest of the inhuman army. The pair did not speak of their lives, as men might, or what they dreamed of, what they feared, what they despised. But could give orders and make demands. And they could doubt.

Too often, Sasuke caught their leering yellow gazes trained upon him. As though they had been assigned by Madara to watch over his protégée. As if, at any moment, they expected Sasuke to break ranks and flee.

Each time, Sasuke met the challenge in that gaze.

Madara had no reason to suspect him of disloyalty. Madara, the progenitor of the Uchiha clan, the dark fate of the entire ill-fated line. Sasuke was now his only heir. Perhaps that was why the king-making sword of Konoha, The Forest Flame, had not chosen him. Had chosen Naruto.

For the Uchiha did not belong in Konoha.

Orochimaru would never know why Sasuke had turned on him, striking as suddenly as any of his snakes. He had not once thought of Sasuke as anything but the perfect, pliable student. So drunk on his own power, Orochimaru had not sensed the gathering darkness beneath his own castle.

But Sasuke had not been so arrogant.

He had felt the purring call beneath the castle, and some part of him had known that it was home. His blood had sung in response, rising in answer.

Now he rode at the head of his armies, flanked by his inhuman generals and leading a score of monsters to change the tide of history.

"We are nearing our destination," the White Zetsu called. Ostensibly, it spoke to Sasuke: he was the commander of this expedition. But it did not even glance in his direction, its attention was wholly focused on its dark twin.