The barrier is thin tonight.
Gojo Satoru sits in meditation, his Six Eyes glowing faintly beneath his blindfold. Around him, the air warps—his Limitless technique humming like a heartbeat. He's not in battle. Not yet.
He's entering Sukuna's domain.
Not the physical one. The mental one.
A gamble.
Inside Yuji's mind, the space shifts. The air grows heavy. The ground vanishes. Gojo steps into a realm not built by nature, but by memory and malice. Sukuna's throne looms in the center of a vast, broken temple. The walls bleed cursed energy. The sky is black. The floor is bone. The silence is oppressive.
Gojo steps forward.
Sukuna watches from his throne, amused. His eyes gleam. His grin is sharp.
"You're bold," he says. "Or stupid."
Gojo smiles.
"I've been called both."
They don't fight—not with fists. Not yet. They talk.
Gojo studies the domain. It's ancient, chaotic, beautiful in its brutality. Every detail reflects Sukuna's soul—fractured, defiant, divine. The architecture is impossible. The air tastes like ash and memory.
"You built this," Gojo says. "But you never left it."
Sukuna rises.
"I am this."
They circle each other like predators.
Gojo speaks of balance. Of protecting the weak. Of power as responsibility. His voice is calm, but firm. He doesn't preach. He challenges.
Sukuna laughs.
"Power is truth. Everything else is decoration."
Gojo doesn't flinch.
"Then why do you hesitate?"
Sukuna pauses.
The question cuts deeper than expected.
"I don't."
"You do. You spared that child. You hesitated with Rinzen. You made a vow with Yuji."
Sukuna's eyes narrow.
"You think that makes me weak?"
"I think it makes you human."
The word hangs in the air like poison.
Sukuna lunges.
Their clash is brief—mental, metaphysical. Gojo's Limitless bends the space around them. Sukuna's cursed energy floods the domain. They trade blows of thought and memory, not technique. The temple shakes. The sky fractures. The floor splits.
Gojo lands a strike.
Not physical. Philosophical.
"You were feared because you were powerful. But you were remembered because you were more."
Sukuna roars.
The domain cracks. Gojo is ejected, his body jolting in the real world. He gasps, sweat dripping down his face. His heart races. His hands tremble. But his eyes—his Six Eyes—remain clear.
Sukuna sits alone again.
But the throne feels colder.
He stares at the broken walls. At the fading murals. At the silence.
"You fight for balance," he mutters. "I fight for truth."
And yet… the words linger.