Chapter Text
Lethal shards of ice slammed into the cracked asphalt of Shibuya, narrowly missing the five targets the monk was aiming for.
Uraume's plum eyes darken and scout for the sorcerers in the area, their breath blooming in the sudden cold. Given the nearby alleys to their left and the open, spacious crater to the right, it doesn’t take a moment’s thought to look for them in the still-standing buildings.
Five people to look for.
Uraume clicks their tongue; how irksome.
They head for the alleyway first.
It had been, what, a little more than ten minutes of relative quiet till this happened. Yuuji's body moved on autopilot the instant someone had screamed 'scatter', dashing into the fume-filled convenience store.
The shelves caved in on themselves, countless glass bottles shattered all over the floor. The air inside was heavier, too, the strong lingering smell of smoke and dust swirling up on the ceiling. Yuuji glanced at the exit––good, no weird monk––and strode deeper into the grocery shop, shrugging off his ruined jacket. Glass shards crunched beneath his soles and screeched across the flooring, playing a broken tune. He forced back the urge to cringe at the sound. He had to get out of here. Find a way out, regroup with the others, find how to defeat that person, something.
Light flickers ominously, but he eventually spots the familiar green emergency sign. Relieved, Yuuji treks. As he rounds the corner and exits from the shop's second entry, he crashes into someone.
His heart leaps from his chest as he readies his fist, yanking at the opponent's collar. "Black F–"
Nobara's hammer hits him square in the face. "Idiot! Don't hit me!?" Her breath hitches, eyes so wide the boy can see her blown pupils in her amber irises. Blood streams from his nostrils as Yuuji lets go, leaning his head backwards and cupping his bleeding nose, groaning. "Don't– don't spring out on me like that! You scared me!"
"Scared you?" She parrots incredulously, gawking as her chest heaves up and down. "You scared me! Shit, I thought you were Mr Nanami! Why are you shirtless?"
She puts her hammer in her bag strap, voice raspy from the fright the other just gave her. Sucking in a wavy, deep breath, she forces the tremble out of her with an exhale."Fuck, just- fuck.." wheezes Nobara, loose strands sticking to her forehead. "Yeah, fuck indeed," the pink-haired one repeats nasally, pinching the throbbing nose. "You jhammed your hamma into my nose hard. It hurts."
"Ah, sorry about that."
"No, no," he waves with his free hand, "you're good." He mouth-breathes, head pointed to the ceiling. He copies Nobara's breathing until it syncs, feeling a tad bit better. But then––he chokes.
"Ghrurkk—gheehhgh!"
"Itadori!" Their voices echo in the vacated building.
They end up walking towards the massive crate bordered by flimsy flames, with Nobara's arm thrown over Yuuji's bare back, making him lean forward with one of her handkerchiefs soaking up the other's nosebleed. Yuuji's cheeks are red with embarrassment at the affair, clashing against Nobara's amused face.
The corners of her lips perk upward. "I'm so telling this to Fushiguro," she snorts.
"Please don't." Yuuji pleads with a nasal tone. "He might tell me I'm a dumbass or something."
Her hand brushed against his back, soothing him. "You are. You are a dumbass. But hey, I'm sure there's lots of other dumbasses that have done more stupid stuff, so you're fine." They cross the blaze barrier and step into wrecked concrete.
As Nobara continues to tease Yuuji, her guard still up, her shoulders ease when she spots the others.
"Hey, Fushiguro! Nanami!" Their heads turn at the sound of her voice, eyes locking with her and Yuuji's frames. The other guy's also there with them, hands tucked into the wide sleeves of his robes, twisted brows smoothing back into pale, thick skin. Nobara doesn't bother with Choso's name, ignoring him as she taps her friend's back and gestures for him to speed up.
"You two took some time." Megumi walked up to them, scanning them for any new injuries. "Did that monk get to you?"
"Nah," Nobara grinned. "Get this. Itadori's clumsiness got him a nosebleed, and he leaned back to try to stop it."
"Back?" His brows raised as he turned to Yuuji's hunched stance. "You lean forward so you don't swallow blood, not back."
She snapped her fingers. "Exactly! I was just about to say that, but then he was choking and gurgling on his nosebleed. He's fortunate I was there. He might've keeled over before that monk got to him."
"Dude! No, she's lying! She punched me with her hammer?!" "Provide proof or it didn't happen."
Megumi took a deep breath and sighed, dragging his palms over his face. "I can't with these clowns…"
Nanami and Choso came behind. The latter looked over Yuuji's slouched back with mild concern. "Yuuji, are you alright?"
Like before, he dismissed the display of worry with a wave. "'M fine," he sneezes, blowing his nose for a final time before folding the handkerchief in such so all the sides are clean, before putting it in his back pocket. "I'm okay, but so you know, she's lying through her teeth–"
"I believe you."
Megumi's and Nobara's voices overlap. "We didn't think you wouldn't."
Choso pays them no mind.
"Listen up." Nanami's voice makes them all turn. "We must reassemble with the others. With the great assist from Toge, hundreds of civilians have evacuated." He takes out a grey phone from his back pocket, showing the cracked, smashed screen. "I have no way of contacting Ieiri and the principal. Are any of your phones unusable?"
The students check their pockets, all of them coming up empty-handed. "Oh, shit. I don't even have mine," hissed Nobara. She had just gotten that new model. Where did it even go?
"Right…" Megumi frowned –– recalling the moment his pockets felt a little lighter when Sukuna had somersaulted the two up a building. So that small rectangular-shaped object I saw was my phone. Perfect.
Yuuji pulled the inner front pocket of his hakama pants inside out. "Uh…" He paused. Uh…
"So, no phones," Choso spoke through his purple scarf.
Nanami simply put his ruined phone back into his back pocket, sighing deeply. "Not good. We should then evacuate the premises, seeing as we can't communicate with the others." The man's gaze stretched over the three teenagers’ shoulders. Something felt… off. He could taste it on his tongue, a sense of… wrongness descending down his throat.
Apart from the few unextinguished flames lining the crate, there was nothing around them but cracked, barren concrete. So why does he feel like something's wrong––
He spots a figure in the distance. Long, wispy locks flowing easily in the growing wind.
Choso stirred up beside him, limbs locking up as he yanks his scarf from his face – head turned to the direction Nanami's looking at. He doesn't get to decode the anger in the curse's expression, why the dark mark across his nose suddenly bleeds when he hears a woman's shriek––shrill and hoarse.
Both men whip their heads around, but they see no woman.
A dense, firm pool of cursed energy flares strongly in front of them and it's too late when they turn back around. Thin strands of web pinions them, delving into the cracked ground and tying them down, tearing grunts out of them.
"It's a trap!" Nanami barks, but it's futile. Tens upon dozens of vibrant centipedes, all bigger than them, descend from above, catching the three students off guard as they land in a heap on top of them.
"Isn't it so intriguing how, from country to country, tales and superstitions relating to centipedes vary? From good fortune and wealth to death and enemies."
A smooth, resonant voice speaks out in the remoteness, his shadow bubbling beneath him as he slid across the decimated radius, inching closer to the sorcerers.
"Not to confuse it with the great Ōmukade, the powerful mountain-dwelling yōkai who famously preyed on humans, among others like serpents and dragons," the man said as the thousand-legged curses gnawed and crawled around them, ignoring Nanami's grunts and Choso's brewing fury. He merely aimed his palm at them, smiling softly.
Their confines bit around them, teeth sinking into them.
"Then of course, the Ōmukade is a great beast, symbolised for its uncontrollable dangers, the fear of the unknown and more. A fascinating story, if you ask me."
How is this possible? He was killed just last year. Nanami's cheek pressed into the ground, feeling the tingling sensations his confines gave. This can't be Geto Suguru. Gojo finished the job. Suddenly, the silky ropes trailed down their legs and seized around them, startling the two. The threads tighten around their thighs and calves, urging them forward and coercing them to walk away.
"Hell–no!" Choso writhes, veins popping at his forehead, dragging the soles of his boots against the ground. Nanami struggles, too, in his binds, throwing his head back.
"I won't let you," the Death Painting swears. "Ghghk- do this! KAMO NORITOSHI!!"
Geto’s living corpse glanced over his shoulder, crooning as he chuckled. "You finally figured it out." Watching as their figures slowly withdrawed, he averted his attention to the three minors.
"A blessing with Cursed Spirit Manipulation is that it allows me to send out curses relentlessly without tiring. Semi first-grades or higher, it doesn't matter. You overcome their abilities; it doesn't matter. I can overwhelm you by sending out more." The centipedes scatter at the internal order of Geto, revealing the battered state of the trio. Yuuji's torso is cut up, with wounds littered all over him, bloody handprints staining Megumi's palms as he struggled to sit up – crimson trickling down his face as Nobara's head hung low, bronze hair veiling her face messily as she stared at her own eyeball, overcome with pain to realise it.
Their blood intermixed and circled them, as if caging them in their impending doom.
Gleeful, Kamo estatically inched closer, seizing Yuuji's chin. "And I'm impressed by your resilience, Vessel of Sukuna. Your strength is like none other." His tone was sickeningly calm, expression poised in a way that tickled Yuuji's memory centre, dipping into long-term recollections.
That… that. Yuuji has seen that before. His eyebrows crinkled subconsciously as he gazed at Geto's face warily, even after the stranger had let go and stepped back. There's a knowing glint in the man's eyes that Yuuji catches, but beyond that, he's in the dark.
Who… who is this man? Yuuji's certain he's never seen this man before.
But. But… but what?
Kamo continues to keep the tranquillity in his tone as he peers up towards the sky. "Do you take me as a fool? Did you believe that I wouldn't notice you the moment you arrived?" He calls out, chin pointed to the sky, and Megumi strains himself to look up aswell. He sees the cerulean glow high in the sky. His eyes widen in recognition.
?! The third-year from Kyoto!
Momo's lantern crackle like flames as she meets Kamo's eyes, sitting idly on her broom.
Our signal, Noritoshi infuses his CE into his blood-laced arrows, lining up many at once on his bow. The target's below Nishimya. Two-thirds of the sky lights up in blue as hundreds of arrows rain down at once. Kamo avoids all of them, twisting and manoeuvring around the arrows, catching one of them before it could pierce his attire, before whipping around to block the bullet directed at his skull. The cursed squid he summoned on a whim absorbs the impact. Kamo extracts the bullet from its stomach and nods approvingly. "Sniper rifle, huh."
He tilts his head toward the direction the bullet took, and in the far distance, Mai curses behind her scope.
"This is quite the intervention. I estimated I would have a little more time." He rolled his eyes playfully before locking them with Megumi's harsh glare. The boy's frown deepened, revealing a gruesome scene with blood-stained teeth where his black bangs concealed one of his eyes.
"Oh-hoh. That's one hell of a stare. Tell me, Fushiguro Megumi. Do you know who exorcised a cursed spirit by the name of Mahito?"
Megumi's narrowed eyes twitched.
"Oh, so you do." Kamo's feet stood right before him, and Megumi's cuts oozed as he craned his neck upward, panting. "That's good, because he's a Disaster Curse and not just anyone would have the skills to kill him. I had hoped to use him. I wasn't quite done with him… oh well, he's gone. Nothing else I can do about it. Who did it?"
Don't say anything. Megumi shifted his gaze to Nobara, only now realising she's missing an eye – clutching her left eye socket with gritted teeth - but she keeps her mouth shut regardless. At his side, Yuuji glares daggers at the man.
They don't answer.
"Come on, I don't bite. I'm merely intrigued."
Don't. Say. Anything.
Brushing his hands against the bloomery and picking up a lavender by its stem, Sukuna smiles.
It is not because of the flower's beauty.
The three keep silent, and Kamo finally drops the smile. "Hm." How irritating. Should he perhaps force them? It wouldn't t––
Behind him, a figure appeared out of nowhere. "New Shadow Style."
His layered sleeves flutter as he turns around – met with the cold eyes of a swordswoman. Her stance was wide, and a sphere of light drowned out their feet.
"Quick Draw!"
Hm.
He captured her blade with his bare hand and shattered it into pieces. Kasumi's face was ashen before she could hide it, viewing the scene in slow motion. She froze, allowing him to cup both of his palms together––and a strange, dark substance streams between his digits. He leaps back, making space as an enormous centipede escapes from his grasp, slithering with its countless legs and heading straight to her.
'His' hair swayed behind his back crazily. "Ōmukade," he breathed, smirking wickedly.
Kasumi's mind went blank; idly standing as the monster rapidly advanced, mouth agape––ready to swallow her up.
Oh, it's right up her face––
Gushes of wind kicked up in the explosion with flashes of pinks and purples, and where they had last stood, there was an immense hole in the ground, pushing them to the edge of the original crater. The blue-haired sorcerer's heart pounded against her chest as Utahime and Momo bicker in front of her; Kusakabe's blade was drawn as she stared at his back. "Kusakabe!"
"What's the point if you're out on the battlefield, Utahime?!" "I'm sorry, I just can't help it!"
Noritoshi pressed the pointed tip of his arrow against the threads binding Choso, muttering quiet apologies whenever he dipped too low and cut the other. "It's fine. I don't mind it." Choso assured, for no blood would spill regardless. It comes out rather flat due to the anger in his voice, further combined with the tense look on his face.
Panda focused on him, stumped.
"Hey, Nanami. Who's this guy?" The blond ran fingers through his bangs, making them fall back to their usual placement. "An ally of ours. Further information is irrelevant at this moment."
"Roger," Panda responded.
Noritoshi stood up, holding his gaze a second longer at Choso before returning his arrow to his quiver. "That man in the robes has Gojo Satoru, yes? Trapped inside the Prison Realm."
"Yeah, apparently so, which is bad news. Without Gojo–"
"This country's done for," Nanami recited. "It's dangerous enough that Gojo was sealed, but by the hands of him is worse."
There's a tense moment at the interruption. "That was something I was wondering, actually," Noritoshi spoke up, confusion evident in his words. "Who is that man?"
"The body is Geto Suguru, but whatever's inside him isn't," Panda informed, purple scleras glowing in his gorilla form. "If anything, Geto was executed back in December."
"Because that man isn't whoever you think he is." Choso's fists flush with heat, jaw locked so tight his muscles visibly flex beneath his skin. "That man is not–" his shoulders tremble, heart thumping erratically in his chest. Choso feels so angry that he becomes blinded by it, losing his self-control.
He clasps his hands together, pumping his blood to its absolute limit. He infuses energy into his upcoming beam, stretching his arms all the way toward that man's direction. Noritoshi's eyes widen, recognising the attack instantly. "H-he's using Blood Manipulation?! And so much pressure at that!?"
He misses Nanami's order, and a hand tugs him backward. "Stand back!"
Choso's breath comes out laboured as he screams, seething as his Piercing Blood fires from his hands powerful than ever. "I won't let you leave from here with your heart still intact, Kamo Noritoshi!!"
He turns, eerily tranquil as ever.
"Really?"
Flashes of surprise and shock cross everyone's faces. Kusakabe's face twists as he recalls the name, Utahime pursing her lips at the name. Noritoshi, the student, sputtered as both Nanami and Panda glanced at him, one because of the coincidentally shared name and the other because of the sudden bombshell. "H-huh?! Me?"
Kamo just baaarely avoids the potent sonic beam, moving in a way his garments never grazes the scarlet fluid as he dashes to the side.
"Kamo Noritoshi, jujutsu history's worst sorcerer of all. If he is right, then whoever's inside Geto would be over one hundred and fifty years old." Utahime winced. Bizarre barriers and the bizarre possession of cursed tools rubbed me the wrong way. As far as masterminds with a cursed technique to take over other people's bodies go. Kusukabe thought. "Must be him; he sounds perfect for it."
"Kamo Noritoshi's one of many names I've had," he drifted out of Choso's range, maintaing a steady gaze with the other. "Sure, call me Kamo, call me Geto, call me what you like. I don't mind," his smile slipped back on, enjoying the fuming expression in the other's face.
The stitches across his face seemed more haunting than ever.
"What did you do, huh?! Take over the body of his parent, huh, you disgusting swine! How dare you make me try to kill my little brother! You KNEW!!" Choso used Slicing Exorcism, scarlet long streams flowing around him before projecting towards Kamo, irked by the simple expression on his face.
"Wipe that damn smirk off your face."
Kamo cooed. "Come wipe it off."
Choso nears a stage of apoplexy. None of his attacks lands. They're all halted by a dense ice pillar, the aftermath of his blood streams lodged half a meter inside the glaze column. "Back off, third-rate." Uraume's irritation is clear in their voice as their palm glistens with frost. Gore swam down Choso's hand creases as they solidifed into long, sturdy ropes. His blood mark was leaking from his nose bridge. "Don't even."
For a moment, the scene slipped away. Sukuna lay face down on the cozy sand, arms sprawled away from his body, damn near snoozing off. It was one of those days they had gone back to the beach simply to enjoy it, basking in the warm sunlight. Yuuji brought forth two popsicles from the cooler by their side—one mango-flavoured and the other raspberry—tapping at Sukuna's back. "You want a popsicle? I got a red one and a yellow one."
He hummed deeply, turning over to stretch. "Hold on," Sukuna yawned, his main eyes closing partly as the lower set were pushed shut by his cheeks, becoming slack before brushing sand particles off his chest. "Mmn, the red one."
"You really love lying on the sand," Yuuji teased as he gave it to him. He removed the plastic packaging and popped the mango popsicle in his mouth, enjoying the rich smoothness of the frozen dessert.
"Mmhhyes, it's incredibly comforting and peaceful."
He couldn't argue with that, and so after he finished his popsicle, he spread out his limbs on the sand bed – like a starfish – half-lidded and smiling.
The lapping sound of waves crashing into each other filled his ears.
It was a nice day.
"Gentle, we don't want to press too hard."
"I, I feel sick, my head, I–"
"Hey, hey! Relax, please. Nobara, hold on."
She lolled forward, almost diving back onto the ground when Nanami gently held her face, settling for a kneel beside her as he applied marginal pressure around her eye socket. "Fuck, my eye, oh, God–" she shook, tremors rocking her core as she recoiled.
In front of her, Yuuji held her hands, massaging circles into her inner hands. His own sight was obscured by crimson coming into his eye, but it wasn't gouged out by any means. Panda, Noritoshi, and Nanamin had gotten over to them during the fight between that …man who has Gojo and Choso (often glancing back in awe, thankful it wasn't them two fighting for the second time).
Albeit, during that time, their adrenaline had flushed out of their systems and agony seized them. Yuuji felt scratched up and bare with all the new scars on his body, from his face down to his legs. Megumi met the same fate, scalp caked with red slick, the sharp scent of copper clinging to them all.
Nobara suffered the worst.
An eye––she was missing a fucking eye.
"What should we do?" Megumi pressed a spare handkerchief to his own temple, his free hand gripping his pant pocket from where he was seated beside Yuuji – face paler than before. "I don't know much about treating someone with–" an injury as grave as this. He can't lie; it's a bad injury.
"Don't say that." Nobara swallowed thickly, squeezing Yuuji's hand.
The other merely quivers, and he squeezes that one for her. "
"We should, for one, get Ieiri." Nanami started. "Panda, please contact Mr Yaga and get his location. Bring Kamo along and return here as fast as you can."
"Roger." "Will do, sir."
Now, back to the current battle: it didn't look good for Choso. Despite being an excellent fighter, the man in Geto's body clearly outclassed him. Still, he gave everything he had, even as his movements grew sluggish over time, without a sweat breaking on his face.
"Itadori," the blond sorcerer spoke up. He hated asking this, even in his situation, but they couldn't delay things any further. "Can you still fight?"
The boy firmly nodded his head, meeting his eyes. "I can."
"Good. Seeing as the fight progresses, overwhelming Kamo Noritoshi is our best option. We should take advantage of the battle and create an opening. Retrieving the Prison Realm is our biggest priority."
He gestured to the green-eyed boy to take his place, and Megumi obliged immediately. ("Hey," he whispered. "Mh..." "Don't forget that bet we made," the boy reminded. Nobara let out a weak smile.)
But then, something crucial dawned on Megumi.
His eyes flew open, and so did his mouth when he screamed: "w-wait––THE MONK!!"
Freezing mist whooshed across the cracked grounds of the crater, gripping the soles of their feet as columns of glaciers embraced them all. Nanami's arm, mid-swing, froze in his ice shaft; one of his eyes closed shut by the sudden attack.
Yuuji, along with Kusakabe and Choso, got caught up as well, ensnared in thick ice. Moving was no option; that would result in death, and within a minute, they would lose their sensation. They were all subdued with ease, something Kamo commented on once Uraume had made themselves known. He glanced back. "Please, don't kill them all. I need to use them as messengers."
The monk brought out their hand; a gaping, trickling hole from Piercing Blood. "Is that any reason to keep them all alive?" They scowled, healing their palm with RCT.
Choso fumbled in his restraints.
"This won't stop me." He punched his left arm free, pressing it toward his right with Red Flowing Scale pumping his blood vessels hot. It was doing well at melting the ice, but not well enough, as Uraume brought their iced finger up to his forehead, polished crystal extending from their index finger –– glaring at him threateningly. "Then what can?"
KRAKK!!
Ice shrapnel explodes in every direction –– freeing Choso from his crystal column. "Whose body do you think that is?” Uraume snapped their tongue.
Yuuji breaks him out with a flying kick, landing beside his (supposed) brother at his left, exhaling sharply. He was the only one not frozen solid. Given that the monk is Sukuna's follower, then they must've gone easier on me.
"Choso––are you alright?"
"Yes, no need to worry." The older man looked at him, gratitude glinting in his eyes. "Good save, Yuuji. Thank you."
"Oh, it's no issue. You're an ally," he directed his focus forward.
From above, Momo dove down from the sky and swung her broom, delivering a gust of CE-charged wind toward the two jujutsu sorcerers in robes. "Wind Scythe!"
Uraume swats it away with an expression of pure disdain.
"What the fuck?" The blonde swears, surprised that her long-range attack was blocked pathetically easily. "Hey, Itadori! We're the only ones not frozen by that sorcerer's technique. We have to buy some time for Utahime to finish her planning!"
"Just so you're aware," Uraume bent downward, a sheer, ice-blue hue swirling in the air from their hand, "Yuuji Itadori is the only messenger I'll allow you to spare!"
"No, you won't."
The sonorous voice of a sovereign cut through the air like a guillotine. Everyone stood frozen––every single one––every eye locked onto the pink-haired teenager.
His own expression matched theirs, although partly, eyebrows raised sky-high in shock, brown irises zeroed on the small maw on his right cheek, diluted whispers on ebony marks showing on the area.
Uraume's hand locks up. A few centimeters shy of the ground. They lift their gaze, stunned. "My Lord?"
Sukuna's velvet-sheathed voice pierced through the dead silence: "Cease your attack and abandon the preparation."
They blink momentarily, mildly perplexed, then blank-faced before nodding. "Understood."
But then, he says: "The contract is through; come and assist my Vessel."
"Hah?" Kenjaku's composure cracks; his gut whirling. His stare, none like the expressions the body he's occupying made, stiffened as he raised his arms. "What?"
Sukuna doesn't repeat himself. He does; this time his tone thick with confusion. "What?"
That's when Uraume's previous ice attack falls through, releasing the sorcerers. There's a moment of rainfall. At Nanami's side, the swordsman, Choso, heats the locations where the ice seized them, freeing them instantaneously. And like clockwork, they all rush in on the ancient cursed user.
"What a––blatant lie." He resummoned Ōmukade along with tricky cursed spirits, regaining his cool as he fended off their attack.
"Must I remind you that contract was a Binding Vow? You can't simply–" he sidestepped to the side, avoiding Kusakabe's blade and kicking into Yuuji's side, sending him off into the distance as Nanami swung at him. "––back off from that! Spending all that time caged by Itadori cannot have been so bad that you're forgetting general knowledge!"
"Are you implying that I've gone stupid?" Sukuna snaps his tongue, and his displeasure spreads to Yuuji's core – making his face twist. "Go on then, check it."
He does, sliding his eyes shut to focus on the link between them, his own wicked, palatinate-coloured soul stretching towards Sukuna's –– dexterously blocking and striking the Grade 1s. He searches, waiting to come in contact with that cold sensation of imaginary chains, but he never does.
Where… where is it?
Kenjaku's eyes fly open, his stitches pulling on furrowed brows, face drained of colour.
"I said it, didn't I?"
"The contract is void, Kenjaku." Deep in that boy's headspace, he knows the King is grinning ear to ear, all four eyes curled upwards in malicious glee.
There is no Binding Vow.
It settles balefully in him. His graceful posture vanishes in a flash –– and suddenly, nothing is under his control. "H-how? How??"
He can't believe it. It's actually void. How had Sukuna managed to even do that?
Distracted, he loses focus on his surroundings, narrowly avoiding a charged Piercing Blood beam. "You cannot!? No- how did you manage to do this?!" What is he thinking??
The rest of the sorcerers close in, and Kenjaku spots Uraume turn to him, about to activate Frost Calm. No. No.
He jumps back and takes out a tied seal from his belt, then another, three more, loosening the bows on them all.
Schalp!
"What you've done, Sukuna, is a grave mistake. I have no explanation for how you nullified the contract, but I'm past that now." His voice boomed, and then the ground turned to fizzle, replaced with a black goo.
"I won't let that get in the way of my plans. I've fed non-sorcerers cursed objects, parts left of those I've made pacts with over the course of a thousand years, or rewired their brains to fit that of a sorcerer. Though the pacts I've made for them nullified the moment I obtained this body." Kenjaku says, and his lips split into a sinister grin when it dawns on the sorcerers.
From beneath their feet, all types of cursed spirits fly out, insect-types to vaguely humanoid ones growling. It was an unfathomable––downright sickening amount of them; more and more waves of curses materialise and crawl through, and in the midst of two walls of shadow, the Prison Realm sits in Geto's grasp.
Yuuji's eyes widen at the sight of it, his breaths shuddering.
"Goodbye, Itadori Yuuji."
One of the blue irises of the special-grade cursed object meets his. He rushes forward: "Gojo– NO!"
"It'll start with or without you, Sukuna," purple eyes pierced through Yuuji's wild brown ones. "I'm disappointed. I thought you'd relish the world of Heian once more."
It’s completely silent when the darkness envelops him whole; Kamo Noritoshi’s eyes remain visible longer than the rest of his face.