Gojo scowled, fists clenched tight as he stared down at Subaru.
Or rather—what was left of him.
His eyes weren't quite lifeless, but they were void of reason. Hollow. Beneath them, deep patches of bruised skin bloomed—proof of relentless crying, of a mind that had shattered quietly in the dark.
"What the hell happened to him…?" Gojo muttered. "He was fine just a day ago. Went out with Rem, seemed stable—and now he's like this?"
He grimaced. None of it added up.
Did something I say break him? No… that doesn't feel right. Subaru wasn't fragile enough for words alone to do this.
But then what is? How does someone just... unravel overnight?
Crusch crossed her arms, a pensive look on her face. "Then what are the odds it's a curse?"
Ferris shook his head, lips tight with frustration. "Pretty low. I've combed every inch of him, inside and out. Healed what I could—physically, he's fine. But he's still like this."
Crusch's gaze drifted toward Rem, softening. "I'm truly sorry. If even Felix can't fix this… no one here can."
Rem bowed slightly, managing a faint smile. "Thank you. Both of you—for your efforts and your concern."
Gojo exhaled through his nose, looking Rem's way. "I'll be going with you. What kind of teacher would I be if I ditched my only student when he's like this?"
———————————————
The carriage wheels groaned as they cut along the dirt path.
Gojo sat in the back, eyes fixed on Subaru—who hadn't moved, spoken, or even blinked properly in a day. The only times he responded at all were when Rem gently coaxed him to eat or sleep. Even then, it was like guiding a ghost.
This just doesn't make sense. No wounds. No curse. Not even a hint of foul energy. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's... grieving..?
But grieving what?
He frowned, flexing his fingers unconsciously. I could teleport us back to the estate… but with my current limit, I can only bring two people at a time and I can't exactly spam it- hurts the old brain. Meaning we'd have to split up for a duration—and that's too risky with Subaru in this state.
Rem sat silently across from him, posture stiff, gaze locked forward.
"...It's too quiet," she murmured. "Right, Satoru-sama?"
Gojo nodded. "I'm in agreement—"
But then her body jolted.
His eyes widened.
Rem pitched forward, clutching her chest, breath ragged and panicked.
"What—what's wr—?!"
He didn't finish the sentence.
WHISTLE—
Instinct took over.
A projectile screamed through the air, cleaving clean through the ground dragon's neck. Its massive body spasmed, then crumpled—slamming into the road and launching the carriage into the air.
Gojo bent his knees, propelling himself from his seat, body a blur. In a flash, he reached forward, grabbed Subaru by the collar, and yanked him out mid-arc—just before the carriage twisted and shattered on impact against the ground.
Boots hit dirt.
He landed hard, skidding several meters with Subaru in tow, shielding him from the debris raining down behind them.
Rem'll be fine. She's strong. That kind of hit wouldn't be enough to drop her.
But something else caught his attention.
He raised his head.
Dozens—no, scores—of cloaked figures encircled them. Each brandished strange daggers, glinting unnaturally under the sunlight.
Gojo stared.
Then tilted his head.
"The hell…?"
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Did we take a wrong turn and end up at a goddamn comi-con?"
Gojo's stance shifted, heels digging deeper into the dirt, posture like a coiled spring ready to detonate.
One cultist charged—a dagger gleaming under the moonlight, lunging straight for his chest.
Satoru didn't flinch. His smirk only widened.
He raised one hand, and with it pulsed a shimmering blue aura, bending space like a ripple in still water.
SWOOSH—
The cultist's body snapped forward, yanked off his feet by a force that defied gravity and logic.
Gojo leaned slightly—in preparation of the approaching figure—then unleashed...
His fist tore through the air.
SMASH—
It caved into the cultist's chest, obliterating ribs and spine in a single blow and tore through the opposing end in a haze of red that splashed onto the ground.
A breath later—THUD!—Gojo's foot collided with the mangled body, launching it like a missile into a nearby tree. The wood shattered on impact, blood misting the bark in a crimson spray.
WHISTLE—THUNK!
A head rolled near his feet. Rem's flanged mace boomeranged through the crowd like death itself incarnate, severing another cultist's head from their shoulders.
"GET AWAY FROM SUBARU, YOU BASTARD WITCH CULTISTS!!" she roared.
More cultists responded, drawing hidden daggers and hurling them toward Rem atop the wrecked carriage.
They froze mid-air.
Gojo's eyes gleamed beneath his shades. "Blue."
A flick of his wrist.
The daggers reversed course—violently—hurtling back toward the crowd of robed figures like a storm of jagged death.
SHLK—SHLK—THUNK—THUD—
Each cultist was impaled in a grotesque instant, limbs flailing, bodies collapsing in heaps, bludgeoning them like a pin-cushion.
They're weak, Gojo thought, eyes scanning the treeline. Infinity protects me—and Subaru while I'm holding him. But still...
He turned toward Rem—bloodied, furious, relentless.
She fought like a demon, her rage making her blind to the damage she was taking. Her knuckles bled, her body bruised—but she didn't stop.
Gojo frowned.
If I go full output with Blue… it'll wipe this entire area. Including her.. so I kinda gotta hold back.
Another cultist lunged.
A dagger hung inches from Gojo's face—suspended, unmoving.
SQUELCH—
Gojo's fist rocketed upward, smashing into the cultist's jaw.
The ground cracked beneath their feet from the force.
The head burst—like an overripe fruit under pressure.
Does that change the fact these guys are nothing more than worms..? Hell no.
He pivoted without pause.
Rem, mid-air, didn't see the dagger aimed for her back.
Gojo appeared behind her in a flash, one hand clamping down on her shoulder—his other palm intercepting the dagger mere centimeters from her spine.
"Hoomph—!"
He grunted as he thrust the dagger backward with terrifying force.
It didn't just return—it rocketed through the cultist, impaling him and the tree behind him like a harpoon through paper.
———————————————
They landed, Ram growling- pupils shrunken, blood dripping down over one eye.
"Rem—Rem, listen to me!"
His voice sliced through her rage.
She blinked. Breathing hard. Just barely registering his words.
"Take Subaru and go. Now. I'll handle the rest. They can't touch me, and I'll be faster without the dead weight."
"B-But—"
"Five minutes." His voice dropped. Calm. Absolute.
She bit her lip.
Then nodded—scooping Subaru in her arms and bolting into the forest path, vanishing into the trees.
Gojo's eyes followed them—then snapped toward the ones giving chase.
"Not a chance."
He moved.
Fast.
One cultist was mid-sprint when Gojo flipped overhead, heel crashing down into his spine.
CRUNCH—!!
The body slammed into the dirt, his foot planting against the cultists' head as he rode the man like a surfboard, carcass tearing a line through the dirt in a wild spray of debris.
Gojo's hand reached outward—Blue pulsing around his fingers. Another cultist chasing Rem was yanked backward by invisible force.
Gojo exhaled—then flicked his wrist.
The man was launched—his body careening into a tree with such force the trunk splintered like glass, erupting in shards of bark and blood that stopped inches away from him.
———————————————
Gojo stood still for a moment.
"Haah... Been a while since I've let loose.."
He reached up, slid his sunglasses down, and pocketed them.
His eyes—those impossibly vivid cerulean eyes—shone like stars in the dark.
They were not calm, they were dark.
Focused.
And finally unchained.
A grin curled on his lips.
"Now that Subaru's not over my shoulder..."
He let out a breath.. and slowly, calmly raised his hand to the air.
"Maximum Output..."
———————————————
Rem sprinted, ignoring the EXPLOSION in the distance from where Satoru was, the wind cutting at her cheeks as the foliage blurred past her in streaks of green and shadow. Her horn shimmered faintly in the darkness—like a beacon in the gloom.
Subaru... She clutched his limp body tighter, the rhythm of her heart matching each step in frantic unison.
Satoru-sama will be fine.
She didn't know him well—but she didn't need to. She had felt it. The overwhelming pressure of his power. His control.
He's strong. Unbreakable.
She glanced down at Subaru again. His face was blank, eyes dull, his body heavy in her arms—like a porcelain doll hollowed out.
But her gaze didn't falter.
He trusted me. With Subaru. With this mission.
So I won't let either of them down.
Not Gojo. Not my hero. Not the boy who saved me when I was nothing.
"I'll be the one to save him this time...!" she whispered, breath ragged, pushing harder.
———————————————
Then, suddenly—
A figure.
Just ahead, framed by twisted tree limbs like a grotesque painting.
He stood unnaturally still—limbs loose, spine slack, face half-shrouded by a cloak drenched in shadows.
Then he twitched.
"I... can see it..."
The voice was sharp, airy—high and cracked like glass under strain.
"Oh yes, yesyesyesyesss...!"
He staggered forward, body convulsing—bones cracking as if his limbs didn't belong to him. His back arched unnaturally, then snapped forward again like a marionette on broken strings.
"How BLESSED am I," he rasped, eyes widening, "to feel the Witch's LOVE... so... so devoutly...!"
Rem froze. Every hair on her body stood on end.
She stepped back, clutching Subaru tighter.
The man's head cocked to the side—his neck bending just a little too far. His fingers twitched as if plucking invisible strings in the air.
"It's him, isn't it...? Yes... yes..." His gaze dropped to Subaru. "From him... such dense love... it oozes from every inch of his blessed soul..."
He trembled violently—then threw his arms wide.
"HE IS TRULY.. TRULYTRULYTRULYYYYY..."
He arched his back and screamed to the heavens—
"..BLESSED!!!"
The forest seemed to recoil with him—leaves fluttering, birds scattering into the night.
Rem's eyes narrowed, her teeth gritting hard.
Blood filled her mouth—she had bitten her tongue again without realizing.
Her voice was cold, controlled.
"Who are you...?"
The horn on her head began to glow brighter.
Her grip tightened.
"Answer me, you FILTHY WITCH CULTIST!!"
The forest air grew heavy—dense with cursed energy and madness. The shadows themselves seemed to shrink from the figure in front of Rem, as though unwilling to linger near such twisted insanity.
He was hunched like a beast, arms limp, swaying unnaturally with each twitch and spasm. His eyes were wide—too wide—bloodshot and trembling with glee. A torn robe clung to his wiry frame, inked with the symbol of the Witch's Cult.
"Who...?" he echoed, voice lilting like a lullaby set to static. "Who am I...?"
He tilted his head, bones audibly crunching as if the motion required more force than a human body should allow.
"Oh, no.. nono-nO..NONONOO!! HOW SLOOOOOOTHFUL OF ME TO NOT TO INTRODUCE MYSELF...!!!"
Tears swelled in his eyes, hands gripping both sides of his face as he clutched them with enough force to tear flesh and draw blood. Then, he bowed- body almost breaking- one arm extended out, head hanging inches from ground.
"I am but a humble vessel of LOVE!! Of WORSHIP... Of GRATITUDE!!!"
"Sin Archbishop of the Witch's Cult.. Representing Sloth... Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti!"
His mouth stretched into a manic grin, twitching and twisting as if struggling to contain the madness boiling beneath the surface.
"Now.. where.. where was I..?!- Love! Yes! I can feel it! That boy—he reeeeeeks of it! The witch's blessing, so potent it makes me TREEEMBLE!!"
His limbs convulsed again, spasming as he dragged his feet forward in erratic lurches.
Rem's heart thundered in her chest, but she stood her ground, even as her muscles screamed at her to flee.
No.
She shifted Subaru in her arms to one side, gently, securely. Her other hand gripped her morning star. The horn on her forehead glowed brighter—her full power blooming as mana radiated from her like a storm on the verge of breaking.
She growled, breath steaming in the night air. "I'll crush every last one of you, until there's no trace of this cult left in the world."
Betelgeuse froze—then began to cackle, madly, uncontrollably.
"HhheheheHEHEHE!! Such LOVE!! In YOU too!! The strength to protect... such noble LOVE! But it is foolish..."
He raised both arms skyward, his body vibrating with uncontainable glee.
"Because the love of the Witch... cannot be defied!!"
Rem's horn pulsed. Her grip on the mace tightened.
Her eyes narrowed, blood boiling.
"I'll make you regret ever trying to get your disgusting hands on Subaru!!"
———————————————
Satoru scowled, standing amidst a sea of shredded corpses. Blood soaked the earth, bones cracked and torn — but he remained untouched. Not a scratch on him. Not even a crease in his attire.
His gaze swept the carnage. "So... this is the Witch Cult's doing?"
His voice was low, irritated.
"What the hell do they want with us?"
The question gnawed at him — but he forced it down.
Now's not the time. Rem. Subaru.. hopefully they are doing good.
He turned on his heel—
And froze.
Eyes narrowed. Mind sharpened.
Someone was there.. since when? how?
A man.
Yet—no presence. No spiritual pressure, as if there was simply an ERROR in the very fabric of space stood before him.
Nothing.
I can't sense him at all. Not even Reinhard felt like this.
The man was... immaculate. Skin pale as bleached ivory. Hair snow-white. And those eyes — glinting gold, like molten arrogance. He moved with eerie poise, one hand behind his back as though greeting an honored guest at a tea party, not walking into a massacre.
Gojo's breath stilled for just a moment.
My eyes don't lie.
He clenched a fist.
This guy is strong.
Even the ground beneath his feet—untouched. Ignoring the blood, the cracks. As if he didn't even exist.
Satoru's expression tightened.
"...Who are you?"
The man stopped.
And smiled.
Not friendly. Not cruel.
Just infuriatingly composed.
He raised a hand, graceful and deliberate — and began to speak in a voice so smug, so measured, it almost grated against reality.
"Ah, excellent. I'm glad someone here still has the decency for manners. Truly. Far too many these days rush forward like beasts without the slightest trace of etiquette. But you—you asked. That alone, sir, puts you well above the drooling masses I've come to expect."
He gave a bow — slight, practiced — his golden eyes never leaving Gojo's.
"And so, in accordance with the natural laws of mutual respect, it would be unjust of me not to answer you."
He placed a hand on his chest — the smile still firmly in place.
".. Sin-Archbishop of the Witch's Cult.. Representing Greed...."
"—Regulus Corneas."