"…The hell is going on…"
The young man muttered as he walked down the desolate streets of Priestella, his voice low and flat, each word dissolving into the eerie silence around him. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes flicked restlessly, tracing the destruction—the cracked walls, shattered glass, and the smell of dust and iron hanging thick in the air.
It was like walking through a dream.
A weirdly realistic dream.
But Satoru Gojo wasn't foolish enough to believe that.
"Have I been dropped into an otherworldly warzone or something…?"
His first instinct was the most rational one he had—a Domain Expansion. The pinnacle of Jujutsu sorcery. Maybe one so vast and complex that even he couldn't sense its boundaries.
But the chances of it were incredibly unlikely, he didn't even know of anyone who could use Domain Expansion after all, perhaps that other Special Grade could but that's a big maybe. And not even he or Suguru could pull off something like that—not yet.
Still, it was the only explanation that made any sense at all.
At least, until it didn't.
Because then he noticed it—the absence.
The stillness.
The air itself felt… empty.
He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly as the world refracted through the Six Eyes. Every inch of the ruined city stretched into layers of information, patterns of energy and decay—and yet, what filled those patterns wasn't cursed energy. It was something else. Something faintly similar, but fundamentally wrong.
"It doesn't make sense…" His tone shifted, more analytical now, calm and calculating.
"Negative emotions exist wherever life does. Which means cursed energy should too."
But there was nothing. No trace of the familiar flow of malevolent energy, no negative pulse humming beneath the surface. Just… silence. A world drained of the fundamental thing that made it real to him.
His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth.
"Guess the rules don't work the same way here, huh…"
Wherever here was.
He started walking again, long strides echoing through the cracked streets. The white-haired sorcerer moved with an almost casual rhythm, the kind that belonged to someone who'd already decided nothing around him posed a real threat.
Until the air shifted.
A subtle ripple of sound—a shuffle, then another.
Gojo's steps came to a halt. His head turned slightly, just enough for his gaze to catch the movement ahead.
From the edges of the shadows, something crawled out.
Black-and-pink amalgamations, their bodies twisted beyond sense—metal grafted into flesh, weapons fused to bone. Blades for arms, shields pressed into their torsos, spears growing from their tails. No eyes, no mouths. Just motion.
He tilted his head, curious. "…Hardly even Grade Three, just like the others." A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Pretty pathetic, really."
A faint hum of cursed energy—vibrated at his fingertips.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, the world was pulled.
A pulse of azure light tore through the street, reality bending under the pressure. The twisted beasts imploded, their forms collapsing in on themselves until all that remained was a thin mist of pink ichor painting the pavement.
Silence reclaimed the air.
Gojo stared down at his hand. The faint blue glow shimmered across his palm, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
"…Huh." He blinked once.
"Did I get, like… a buff or something?"
The smirk stayed, but his tone betrayed a flicker of unease. His instincts told him something was wrong—not with his power, but with him. Something felt different. The cursed energy in his body didn't move quite the same way—it was sharper, almost too responsive.
He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back toward the dim skyline.
"Man… Suguru's gonna lose it when he hears about this one."
A low scraping sound drew his attention. Claws dragging against stone, rough and uneven—a hungry rhythm that broke the fragile quiet.
From the alley to his left, the darkness shifted.
Pairs of red orbs blinked into existence—one, then two, then several.
They emerged in a slow, deliberate march. Massive, wolf-like beasts with hides mottled in brown and black, spikes jutting down their spines, red eyes glowing like burning coals. Steam curled from their open maws, fangs glistening wet in the cold air. On each snout—a single, jagged horn jutted forward, catching the faint light.
Gojo didn't move. Didn't even flinch. His hands stayed buried in his pockets, posture relaxed. The picture of apathy.
"…Hm. Talk about having no sense of danger, am I right?"
He tilted his head, watching the creatures fan out in a half-circle around him. Their growls deepened, shaking the air, claws scraping against the fractured stone.
And then—he smiled.
That small, subtle grin that screamed maniac.
"Well...."
He murmured, pushing his sunglasses slightly up the bridge of his nose.
"These are definitely more curse-like~."
———————————————
What he was feeling wasn't emptiness, or at least, not completely. That used to be all he'd feel inside of his body, but not anymore.
It was pain.
Not the kind that came from injury—it was deeper. An overwhelming ache that throbbed in the core of his being, as if something was missing, something that should have been there but wasn't.
The void inside him twisted. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to be.
Of course, this wasn't the first time he'd felt such pain from the absence inside of him, but never had it been so obvious as it were in the current moment in time.
The pain surged again, like a voice clawing its way through the darkness in his mind.
Wake up—
—Natsuki Subaru twitched through his conscience.
Unconscious, half-drowned in the black void, his body trembled as that same pain echoed through his soul. The nothingness that had swallowed him began to burn, growing sharper, louder, alive.
That nothingness wasn't just his anymore.
It was theirs too.
Perhaps, 'theirs' wouldn't be the right way to put it.
Wake up—
Because 'they' too, were Natsuki Subaru.
Just the absent part of him, somewhere else.
Wake up—
———————————————
His eyes snapped open toward an unfamiliar ceiling—cold white light bleeding in through cracks in the wall.
A sharp inhale.
Then, the weight of exhaustion hit him all at once, like a delayed punishment. It wasn't pain—at least, not the kind he was used to. Most of that had already been treated, his body wrapped in layers of clean bandages that covered the worst of the wounds.
"Hahh… right…" Subaru muttered, voice hoarse and dry. "I made it."
He lay there for a moment longer, letting the realization wash over him. The fact that he was still breathing, still alive, felt almost alien.
A bitter grin tugged at his lips.
"Note to self—never, ever use Pride at full output again. Doesn't matter how good it feels… or how strong it makes me. The bill always comes due."
He could still feel the memory of that power—the rush of it, the raw, unstoppable momentum that tore everything apart in front of him. And then, the crash. The cost. His body had been shredded from the inside out, every nerve screaming in rebellion.
He'd lost Crusch to the flood. Nearly died fighting through packs of monsters that should've been trivial at full strength. All because he pushed too far, too fast, too recklessly.
"…Damn it." His hands curled into weak fists.
"How much time's passed?"
If even a single day had gone by—if he'd been unconscious that long—then anything could've happened. Another attack, another death, another failure.
The thought made his pulse spike. He shoved the blankets off, bare feet hitting the cool wooden floor.
A little dizziness, sure. But the pain was pretty much gone.
Ferris's healing. Of course.
"...That cat's a miracle worker."
He muttered with a small, genuine smile.
He zipped his jacket, slipped his shoes on, and stepped quietly into the hall. His body still felt heavy, but he moved with purpose. The long corridor stretched ahead, lined with fractured walls and faint candlelight.
These walls...
He recognized them.
"…City Hall?"
The words slipped out like an exhale. He stepped toward the balcony at the end of the corridor, looking down into the half-ruined lobby below. The main doors were splintered, the marble floor fractured, but the structure still stood.
"Right…" he murmured.
"Guess I was right after all…"
"Yo, Captain! Ya finally awake?"
The familiar rough voice jolted him from thought. Garfiel approached from the far side, waving lazily. Julius followed close behind, his usual composure intact, though there was a glint of relief in his eyes.
"I'm glad to see you conscious, so soon as well." Julius said, smiling faintly.
"Though I admit, I am definitely surprised."
Subaru raised an eyebrow.
"Surprised?"
"Even with Ferris's healing, your body should've been… far more exhausted." The knight's expression darkened.
"When you entered this building, it was difficult to tell if you were still alive, despite the fact you were walking."
Garfiel grimaced, scratching his neck.
"Yeah, boss, ya looked like a mess, no kiddin'."
Subaru let out a strained laugh.
"Heh… guess I made quite the impression."
Julius's expression sobered again.
"How did it come to that? Was it from the battle against Lust?"
Subaru's smile vanished. He shook his head.
"Not exactly. She hurt me, yeah, but that wasn't what nearly killed me. It was… something else. Something I shouldn't have used."
He paused, remembering the feeling of his own veins almost bursting through his entire body.
"…The price of being reckless. I had to fight through hordes of those pink-and-black things just to get here. Nearly didn't make it."
Garfiel frowned, sharp eyes narrowing.
"Even if ya got healed up in the end, goin' through all that solo like that was stupid. Shoulda waited for us, we woulda went t'find ya."
"I didn't have that luxury at the time...." Subaru's voice hardened.
"Crusch got swept away in the flood. I thought…"
The image of Crusch spitting up blood, with only the white of her eyes showing, flashed through Subaru's mind.
Julius broke the silence.
"Lady Crusch Karsten… she still lives, we found her unconscious body as we made our way here."
Subaru's head shot up.
"She's alive?"
"Yes…"
"But far from unharmed. Lust left something behind… a contamination of some kind. Ferris has been treating her since you arrived but it has not been working. He hasn't left her side other than to heal you."
"…A curse, maybe?" Subaru muttered, jaw locking.
He slammed a fist against the balcony rail, teeth grinding.
"Damn it! I should've seen it coming—every sign, every warning. That damn dragon not answering, the hostages—everything was screaming trap, and I still made us walk right into it!"
A strong hand fell on his shoulder. Julius's grip was firm.
"This is not your fault, Subaru. The blame lies only with the monster who did this."
Subaru exhaled shakily, forcing his anger down.
"Yeah… maybe."
He leaned back against the railing, breathing heavy.
"The dragon helped me, you know. Without it, I'd definitely have ended up like Crusch."
Julius nodded.
"The Archbishop's ability seems to corrupt the very flesh. What you saw in that back room… was her work."
Subaru swallowed hard.
"Human-sized flies… yeah, the hostages. I won't forget that anytime soon."
"She called it dragon blood…" he said after a pause.
"Said hers was mixed with it."
That made Julius pause.
"Then… Divine Dragon's blood…? Then it might tie to the Royal Family's blessing."
"Emerada Lugunica…" Subaru muttered.
"…Maybe that name wasn't just a taunt after all then."
"Perhaps not."
Subaru shifted gears.
"Speaking of battles—how'd it go with that cultist you fought?"
Julius's jaw tightened.
"…Poorly. I was outmatched, by a large margin… as much as it pains me to say, if it weren't for the flood, I would've died."
He hesitated, the memory clearly unpleasant.
"They fought like a swordsman, but wielded no sword. Their hands alone were blades… sharper than my own. Their skill was unlike anything I'd ever seen, it was… as close to perfection as I believe possible."
Subaru's breath caught. For a moment, his thoughts raced—images of a familiar stance, an effortless power. But no. That didn't make sense. Couldn't make sense, one person could only come back from the dead so many times right?
He shook his head.
"No. Forget it."
Julius gave him a curious glance but didn't pry.
Then Subaru asked, almost too casually.
"Gojo-sensei still not back?"
The silence that followed told him everything.
"…He hasn't come back, has he?"
Garfiel's frown deepened.
"Nah. Not since the flood. We thought he was pullin' some sorta stupid stunt, but… that old man 'n Otto said otherwise when they showed up. Said all fightin' against that 'Gluttony' stopped after the water hit. Couldn't see much after that."
Subaru froze.
Gluttony. Rui Arneb.
She was still alive. Well, of course she was. He just wasn't expecting to run back into her so soon.
"…That's bad."
Gojo—missing. Gojo.
That didn't make sense. That man was basically untouchable. Nobody, not even the Archbishops—with the exception of Greed—could even touch him.
But—
A memory stirred. Gluttony's power. The way it erased names and memories.
"…No." His eyes widened.
"You all still remember him. So she didn't take his name."
That left only one possibility. It was like when Gluttony had ate a part of him and he'd lost those memories, perhaps she did the same to Gojo, but on a larger scale in comparison.
A chill spread through him, followed swiftly by an unsteady laugh.
"…Heh. Damn it." He rubbed his face, smiling through the dread.
"He's fine. He has to be."
Julius studied him for a long moment.
"…You sound certain."
"Because I am." Subaru's voice was quiet, but firm.
"That guy's a monster, and he aint dumb despite how much he might wanna pretend he is. Satoru Gojo doesn't die that easily."
He turned toward the ruined doors of the city hall, eyes dark with resolve.
"…He's out there, just fine."