---
Sora's eyes snapped open.
At first, he thought they were closed. There was no light—only an endless, suffocating black. Yet he could see everything.
He was standing on what looked like the surface of water, except it didn't ripple when he moved. It was glossy and still, like a mirror holding the weight of an entire sky. Above him, the moon loomed so close he could see the jagged edges of its craters. It wasn't white—it was bone-pale, veins of shadow pulsing just beneath its surface like something alive.
A whisper slid across the air.
"You made it."
---
His double stood a few paces away, barefoot on the dark water.
He looked sharper here—taller, his movements unnaturally fluid, as if gravity had given up on him entirely. The ragged clothes were gone; instead, he wore something like ceremonial robes, black as ink and trimmed with pale silver threads. The way they swayed felt… wrong, like there was wind only touching him.
"What is this place?" Sora demanded, but his voice came out quiet, swallowed by the air.
The double smiled faintly. "Home."
---
The surface beneath Sora's feet quivered.
He looked down—and saw faces in the water. Hundreds, maybe thousands, staring up at him from beneath the glassy black surface. Their mouths moved soundlessly, eyes wide with panic, pain, or rage.
He stumbled back, but the faces followed, sliding under the water like predators pacing prey.
The double stepped closer, his bare feet not making a single sound. "They're memories. Yours. Mine. Everything you're trying to protect."
"I'm nothing like you."
The double's expression flickered into something colder. "You will be."
---
He moved—
No, vanished—and reappeared right in front of Sora, palm striking toward his chest.
Instinct took over. Sora flared cursed energy through his arms, blocking the blow—
Only to feel a shock ripple through him. His cursed energy drained away, pulled into the double's hand like water down a drain.
Sora staggered back, gasping. "What—"
"You're in my domain," the double said simply, raising his hand and letting the stolen energy coil around his fingers like smoke. "Here, you can't keep what you think is yours."
---
The double flicked his wrist, sending the energy whipping toward Sora. It sliced the air, missing by a breath as Sora dove aside.
He tried to summon his own cursed technique—nothing. Just an empty, aching void where his energy should have been.
"You're slow," the double said, stepping forward without hurry. Each step sent faint ripples across the black surface, as if reality bent to his movement.
Sora's heart pounded. He had no cursed energy. No weapon. No Gojo, no Rei. Just himself.
---
He clenched his fists anyway. "Then I'll fight you without it."
The double tilted his head in faint amusement. "Brave."
Sora lunged, aiming a punch at the double's jaw. The strike passed through empty air—the double had simply leaned aside, his movement smooth as ink spreading in water.
Before Sora could recover, the double's palm pressed against his shoulder—
And suddenly, the faces beneath the surface screamed.
Sora froze as the sound poured into his skull, raw and endless. His knees buckled.
The double's voice slipped through the noise like a knife. "You can't win here."
---
A memory surfaced—not his own.
A moonless night. Cold stone walls. His double kneeling before the coffin, whispering words Sora didn't understand. And then… stepping inside it. Willingly.
The vision snapped, leaving Sora gasping. "You chose this?"
The double's eyes were flat. "Freedom has a price. You'll understand soon."
---
The water around them began to rise in jagged, pointed shapes—like the surface was growing teeth. The faces in it twisted, stretching upward, their mouths opening wider and wider.
The double spread his arms, the black robes billowing like storm clouds. "All you have to do… is let go. Stop fighting. I'll carry the weight for you."
"Not happening." Sora forced his legs to move, circling to the side. If cursed energy wouldn't answer him, maybe his body still could.
He feinted left, then dove right, grabbing the double's wrist and twisting—
And for the first time, the double's expression faltered.
---
"You're still holding on," the double murmured. His free hand lashed out, slamming into Sora's ribs. The force didn't just hurt—it dragged at his mind, pulling at thoughts, names, moments.
He saw Gojo's smirk flicker and fade. Rei's voice blurred. His own name echoed like it was coming from miles away.
No.
He tightened his grip on the double's wrist and wrenched it down, driving his knee into the double's stomach.
They both crashed into the black surface—
And suddenly Sora was under.
---
The cold was absolute. His lungs screamed for air, but the water wasn't water—it was memory. Images slammed into him one after another.
His mother's face. His first exorcism. The day Gojo found him.
Then stranger ones—places he'd never been, battles he'd never fought, faces that weren't his but felt like they should be.
Through it all, a single voice whispered: Let go.
---
Hands—dozens of them—grabbed at him from below, pulling him deeper. He kicked free, fighting upward. Somewhere above, faint light shimmered.
The double was there, standing on the surface, looking down. He didn't reach for Sora. He simply waited.
---
With a roar, Sora pushed upward, breaking through the surface and dragging the double down with him. They tumbled into the cold together, the blackness swallowing them both.
For a moment, Sora's hand found the double's throat.
"I'm not you," he growled.
The double's smile returned, faint but sharp. "Not yet."
The world twisted—
---
Sora's eyes snapped open again. He was lying on cold stone. Moonlight poured through the broken ceiling.
Gojo was kneeling beside him, blindfold askew. "Took you long enough."
Rei stood a few feet away, shadows still curling around her fingers. "You're lucky we pulled you out when we did. Another minute and…" She didn't finish.
Sora sat up, breath unsteady. "Where's the coffin?"
Gojo's grin didn't reach his eyes. "Gone."