Sora's lungs still burned from the run, even though he was no longer in the Moon's Grave.
The cold stone beneath him was familiar now—the floor of the abandoned shrine where Gojo had left him to "rest."
Only now, Gojo wasn't smiling.
His blindfold tilted slightly, and though his eyes were hidden, the weight of his stare was undeniable.
"Where did you go?"
Sora pushed himself upright. His limbs felt heavier than before, as if something had been drained from him and replaced with lead. "I… fell. Or was pulled. Into somewhere else."
Gojo didn't interrupt, but he stepped closer, the pressure of his cursed energy subtle but sharp, like a scalpel against the skin.
"There was a… woman," Sora said. "She knew about something called the Moon's Grave. And a… thing chained in it. A skeleton with—"
Gojo's voice cut in, low but uncomfortably certain. "A red heart."
Sora froze. "…You know it?"
---
Gojo's smile returned, but it was thinner now, lacking its usual warmth.
"I know of it. And I know the kind of people who would use it."
Before Sora could ask, the shrine's wooden doors rattled violently.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
A voice, muffled but calm, called from outside. "Satoru Gojo. The Cult of the Hollow Veil requests an audience."
---
Gojo tilted his head. "They're polite today. That's new."
The doors slid open without permission.
Three figures entered—draped in pale robes stitched with black thread that looked more like scars than fabric. None wore shoes; their feet were caked in ash. The leader's face was hidden behind a porcelain mask carved into a blank smile.
He bowed shallowly. "We come bearing terms."
---
Gojo leaned casually against the wall, but his energy had shifted—his presence sharpening like glass about to break. "You people are usually more into kidnapping and human sacrifices than 'terms.' What changed?"
The masked man stepped forward.
"We know the boy has been touched by the Heart in the Moon's Grave. That makes him ours."
Sora felt every hair on his neck rise. "Yours?"
---
The cultist didn't even look at him. "You can keep his body. We only require his memory."
Gojo laughed softly. "And if I say no?"
The man's voice didn't change. "Then the Heart will take it instead. And it will not be gentle."
---
The air thickened.
In the corner of the shrine, shadows rippled. They pooled unnaturally, as if a light had been snuffed out in a place with no lamps. From them, something began to rise—a figure too thin to be human, its neck bending at wrong angles, its face hidden under layers of stitched cloth.
The cultist continued as if nothing was happening.
"We offer you a bargain, Gojo Satoru. Give us what we came for, and the Hollow Veil will not open here."
---
Gojo straightened slowly. His smile widened again, but this time it had teeth.
"You're trying to negotiate in my territory. You know how stupid that is?"
The masked man tilted his head. "You're the strongest. But even you cannot guard a mind from what is already inside."
---
The stitched figure finished rising from the shadows, towering until its head scraped the ceiling. It didn't move—only stood there, its hidden gaze fixed entirely on Sora.
Sora's breath caught. His vision flickered—not darkness this time, but flashes of the red heart, beating in sync with his own. He felt it again… the pull.
---
Gojo's voice reached him through the haze, sharper now. "Don't look at it."
Sora blinked, fighting the urge to turn back toward the stitched figure. The pull intensified. It wasn't just strength this thing wanted—it wanted identity. The sense of being Sora.
---
Gojo didn't wait for the cult to make their next move. His cursed energy exploded outward, an invisible force ripping through the shrine like a hurricane. The masked man staggered but didn't fall.
"You have one chance," Gojo said lightly, but the air behind his words was cold. "Leave. Or I'll send your little shadow-pet back to your master in a paper bag."
---
The cultist's porcelain mask tilted as though considering. The stitched figure slowly receded back into the floor, the shadows sealing themselves.
"This is not refusal," the masked man said. "It is delay. The boy is a debt, and debts are always collected."
With that, they turned and left—silent, bare feet leaving no sound on the wood.
---
When they were gone, Gojo didn't relax.
He looked at Sora.
"You're in it now. That 'woman' you met? If she's real, she's the reason they found you so fast."
Sora swallowed hard. "You think she's with them?"
Gojo's smile was gone completely. "I think she's worse."
---