"Hey! To think I would be tricked by that bastard Sukuna, I am truly pathetic. *Cough*"
A man with white hair was lying on the ground, his body covered in blood as he whispered softly.
"And here we are..."
In front of him stood Sukuna, who had taken over Megumi's body. His battered body was covered in black tattoos.
His expression showed joy at having defeated Gojo, as he bared his teeth.
"It's entirely your fault. You wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't held back."
After transferring into Megumi, the inevitable occurred: Sukuna managed to take full control of his body.
Fortunately, Satoru Gojo - the most powerful sorcerer - had managed to escape the seal he was previously in.
This led to an epic battle between Gojo and Sukuna. A battle of apocalyptic proportions that completely transformed the landscape of Tokyo.
The result of this battle was... Gojo's defeat. He had been completely overwhelmed, cut in half.
That's why Gojo lay there, fatally wounded. So severely that no curse reversal technique could heal him.
"Haha *Cough* it's really the end for me," he thought to himself, then a smile appeared on his lips and he closed his eyes, letting the darkness take over.
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In the vast dark expanse where Satoru Gojo floated, the lack of reference points was almost palpable. The darkness seemed alive, a void pulsating gently, as if space itself was breathing. His feet finally brushed against an invisible surface, a ground that barely existed, and he landed with the nonchalance that characterized him, hands in the pockets of his uniform stained with dried blood. His eyes, of a supernatural blue, scanned the environment, searching for a clue, a glimmer, anything to break the monotony of this void.
"Well, this isn't exactly the VIP reception I was expecting after such a battle," he muttered, his voice echoing strangely, as if swallowed by the darkness. He coughed slightly, a phantom pain radiating from his chest, where Sukuna had literally cut him in two. Yet, here, he no longer felt the sting of his wounds. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife? Or another one of those twisted schemes the world of sorcery liked to throw at him?
He started walking, his steps making no sound, as if he were moving in a dream. Time seemed distorted, each step stretching into eternity, but Gojo did not mind. He had always had a peculiar relationship with infinity, after all. After what seemed like hours - or maybe seconds - a structure emerged from the void. A massive door, adorned with a symbol he knew by heart: infinity, engraved in the stone as a challenge. A smile stretched across his lips. "That's my trademark."
But his attention was drawn to a detail at the center of the door: a mask, resembling a skull, embedded in the surface. He furrowed his brow. "Huh? Where does that come from?" he murmured, scrutinizing the mask. It didn't evoke anything familiar to him, yet he felt a strange sensation. With a smile, typical of the man who had never known fear, he placed his hands on the door and pushed.
A deep, ominous creak resounded, as if the door had not been opened for millennia. A reddish light escaped from the crack, bathing his face in an unsettling glow. Without hesitation, Gojo crossed the threshold, and his feet sank into a liquid substance. He looked down, expecting water, but what he saw made him grimace. Blood. Thick, viscous, stretching as far as the eye could see, forming an infinite pool. "Charming," he commented, his tone sarcastic. He moved forward, his steps splashing through the scarlet liquid, but his expression remained impassive. It wasn't the first time he had walked in a nightmare-like setting.
After about ten minutes, he saw in the distance a throne, imposing, carved from a black, shiny material, like polished obsidian. Seated on it, a woman. Her skin was of a spectral paleness, her lips of a red so vivid they seemed painted with fresh blood. Beside her face floated a mask identical to the one on the door, suspended in the air like a silent shadow. She was motionless, her head resting on her hand, eyes closed, an aura of majesty emanating from her. Gojo felt a shiver run through him, not of fear, but of instinctive recognition. *She is strong. Very strong.*
The woman opened her eyes, and Gojo flinched. Her irises were of a dazzling blue, almost identical to his, but there was something older, deeper in that gaze. A power that seemed to defy time itself. "I see you are finally here," she said, her voice soft but tinged with natural authority.
Gojo raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile on his lips. "What? You were expecting the great Satoru Gojo? So, tell me, what's worth such a reception?"
She smirked, amused by his arrogance. "Always so sure of yourself. I'm not surprised." She stood up, her long dress trailing on the ground like a liquid shadow. Each step she took seemed to vibrate the space around them. She descended the steps of the throne with a supernatural grace, approaching Gojo. "But the time has not yet come. You should leave."
Gojo crossed his arms, his smile widening. "Leave? Just when the show is starting? Not my style. I'll leave when I feel like it."
The woman stopped, her gaze darkening slightly. "I see." She paused, as if weighing her options. "In that case, I have no choice."
Before Gojo could react, she was upon him. In the blink of an eye, she stood a few inches from his face, so fast he hadn't even felt the space bend. *Fast*, he thought, his combat instinct awakening too late. The woman raised a hand, and effortlessly, she plunged it into his chest. A sharp pain, familiar yet different, exploded in his body. Blood gushed from his mouth, and he staggered, his eyes wide with disbelief. *What? How?*
"We will meet again soon," she whispered, her voice strangely gentle, almost melancholic. She withdrew her hand, and Gojo fell to his knees, blood flowing from his wound. "I would have liked to spend more time with you," she added, a hint of sadness crossing her gaze. Then, she turned on her heels and ascended to her throne, sitting with the same princely grace. "I have waited already. I will wait again, until the day you come to fetch me... my darling."
Gojo, still on the ground, felt his vision darken. The pain faded, replaced by a sensation of floating. He wanted to speak, to ask a question, anything to understand, but the darkness engulfed him before he could utter a word.
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