Sasuke steps into the dimly lit prison, his Sharingan activated, scanning the cells with a cold, calculating gaze. The echoes of prisoners’ desperate cries bounce off the walls, but his focus remains steady. He stops when he sees Alex standing amidst the chaos, calm and composed, snakes slithering at his feet.

“You’re Alex,” Sasuke says, his tone low and deliberate. “The warden of this place. Orochimaru trusted you to keep his failures in line.”

Sasuke steps closer, ignoring the serpents coiling on the ground. “He’s gone now. But you… you have a talent. Ink manipulation, suppression techniques, and a mind sharp enough to control others. That’s exactly the kind of skill I need.”

He narrows his eyes, voice cold but resolute. “I’m forming a team. Join me, and I’ll give you a purpose beyond this prison. Or don’t”