The meeting room of Jujutsu Headquarters was larger than any Yutsumi had ever seen. Tall ceilings, polished stone, and a grid of enchanted runes that hummed faintly with defensive energy. Screens floated in the air, displaying live feeds from Kyoto, Tokyo, and now even the Simurian mothership hovering above Nevada.
Yutsumi sat between Tsurugi and Yuka, silent. He didn't need to speak to feel the tension radiating from the assembled elders. Every face was sharp with suspicion, every hand hovering just above the surface of their own cursed energy.
"This," Usami began, voice measured but firm, "is a matter of unprecedented gravity." He gestured to the main screen, showing footage of Maru's battle with Masaki, then a separate clip of Tsurugi stabilizing Yutsumi's adaptation during the third-eye incident. "The presence of Simurians above Japan cannot be ignored. Neither can the anomalies caused by their interactions with human sorcerers."
A younger sorcerer leaned forward, eyes bright with zeal. "They're a threat. Fifty thousand aliens, and we can't even confirm their true intentions. We must classify them under the Hazardous Entity Protocol immediately."
"Do not be hasty," Usami replied sharply. "Their actions have been… complex. Adaptive. Calculated, even." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Yet, it is true that Maru's power, if left uncontrolled, could trigger a catastrophe."
Cross's voice cut in through the secured comm link, disguised as Maru's own image in a hospital feed. "Calculated?" he said smoothly, a hint of amusement underlying his tone. "Humans are quick to call what they don't understand 'calculation.' What you fail to see is opportunity. I will ensure coexistence, one way or another."
Tsurugi bristled, hand moving to his sword. Yuka's grip on Yutsumi's arm tightened reflexively.
Usami raised a hand. "Control yourself, Tsurugi. Observe. This is part of the process."
On the other side of the world, the Simurian Council convened in their chamber of living stone. Chieftains, elders, and representatives from every tribe gathered in tense silence. The projection of Cross—his form a shadow within Maru's body—hovered over the assembly.
"The humans debate," Cross said softly. "Their fear blinds them. But you… you understand the stakes. Do you vote for war or for coexistence?"
Elder Dabura, one of the oldest and most respected, rose slowly. "We do not seek war," he said, voice resonant like the echo of stone. "We seek neighbors. Coexistence is our goal."
A murmur ran through the council. Some chieftains hesitated, recalling the centuries of bloodshed over Mul, over territory, over pride.
Cross's shadow shifted, observing each reaction. "Your fear is understandable. But the threshold has already been crossed. Humans will escalate if provoked. You must decide quickly."
Back at Jujutsu Headquarters, Usami clicked through the live feed. He watched as Dabura extended a clawed hand, signaling his support for peace.
"Veto powers remain," Usami noted quietly, aware that some council members might attempt obstruction.
Dabura's eyes scanned the chamber. "I use my veto to affirm peace. This decision is made not for strategy, but for survival. For all of us."
A stunned silence followed. Cross's voice, layered over Maru's form, broke it. "Then let the humans know. They have the choice to follow reason—or to falter."
Yutsumi felt the tension in the room shift slightly. The Simurians were powerful, yes—but they were not monolithic. And now, human decisions could tip the balance.
One young sorcerer scoffed. "Peace with aliens? That's lunacy! Do you see the power they wield? Maru alone—"
Usami's gaze fixed him in place. "You speak without understanding. Power alone does not dictate survival."
Screens across the room switched to show Yuji Itadori, alive, his form hidden in isolation. The feed was from a secure satellite capturing energy signatures that no human could yet track. The room went dead silent.
"Yuji Itadori is alive," Usami said plainly. "And he is powerful beyond classification. Sukuna-level, yes, but controlled."
Gasps echoed. Even Yutsumi's pulse quickened. He had seen glimpses of Yuji's potential—but here, projected in raw energy readings, the reality was undeniable.
The younger sorcerer's face went pale. "Why is he… not participating?"
Usami's expression hardened. "Because he is not a weapon. Not yet. And if humans treat him as one, the consequences will be catastrophic."
Tsurugi's jaw clenched. "Then why reveal him now?"
Usami's gaze flicked to Yuka and Yutsumi. "Because his existence serves as a deterrent. Both to humanity and to the Simurians. Balance requires visibility."
Yuka's grip on Yutsumi's arm tightened. "We can't rely on him," she said under her breath. "Not yet."
Yutsumi's fingers brushed hers gently. "We don't have to. We have each other."
Meanwhile, across the holographic table, Cross observed the proceedings quietly. Dabura's veto had secured peace for the moment—but he knew the seeds of distrust had already been sown.
"Human officials," he murmured, almost to himself, "panic over Yuji. They will overreach, they will misjudge, and they will escalate unnecessarily. The variable child… the one who adapts… will become pivotal."
Maru, still appearing in his hospital form, leaned slightly toward Yutsumi on the screen. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker—of acknowledgment, of trust.
Yutsumi's heart thumped in response, not just to power but to responsibility. Adaptive Perfect Copy had already saved countless lives, but he knew this was only the beginning.
"Decisions made," Usami finally said, voice calm but decisive. "Peace will hold for now. Simurians remain above Japan. Coexistence is endorsed. And every sorcerer present will act with discretion until further notice."
The chamber exhaled collectively. Relief, tension, and uncertainty mixed into a palpable cloud.
Yuka finally released her hold on Yutsumi, though her hands lingered, protective. "We survived this," she whispered.
Yutsumi met her gaze. "For now."
Tsurugi sheathed his sword. "But this isn't over. Not by a long shot."
Across the world, in shadowed observation decks, Cross smirked faintly. "They think this is peace. They are wrong. Coexistence is fragile. And the variable… he does not yet understand how dangerous he has become."
And in the shadows, Yuji Itadori remained, alive, waiting, his power like a silent storm.
Yutsumi exhaled, feeling the weight settle briefly on his shoulders.
"This is just the beginning," he said softly.
Yuka pressed close again, whispering fiercely, "Then we face it together. No matter what."
And for the first time in days, Yutsumi allowed himself to believe it.
The Simurians, the humans, the curses, and the unknown forces beyond—all converged in a delicate balance.
And somewhere above, the mothership waited.