Inside a spacious room, two men were watching a sports news broadcast. A burly man chatted with his friend about Sukuna leaving Megumi’s body in Jujutsu Kaisen
manga.
"Hey Liam, wasn’t it unsatisfying how Sukuna became a ‘pou’? I’d have preferred him dying by Gojo Satoru’s hands. What do you think?"
"..."
The loud voice of the sports commentator echoed in the room. The silence stretched before Liam finally replied.
"Haven’t we talked about this at least three times already, Steven?"
"Ugh, I know! But I’m so pissed Gege didn’t let Sukuna die by Gojo’s hand!"
"Just be patient. You know what they say—Season 3’s coming in June 2026."
"Yeah, yeah… Honestly, I’m not even 100% interested anymore. If only—"
"Oh, come on, you KitKat. Not everything in this world goes the way you want. Take what we’re watching right now—your ‘GOAT’ isn’t hitting 1000 goals. He’s turning 41 soon; retirement’s around the corner."
"Damn, that’s harsh, bro. Forgot I’m the local boxing champ? My punches might just send you to the hospital."
Steven, irritated, clenched his fists and cracked his knuckles jokingly.
"Black Flash."
He playfully punched Liam’s head repeatedly, though Liam’s teasing had already soured his mood.
"Whatever. I’m heading home. I’m not feeling great."
Steven stood and walked toward the door. Just before it closed, Liam’s voice boomed:
"Steven, don’t be so mad. Here’s some advice—at least take off that number seven jersey first. It’s kinda embarrassing if people see you wearing it. Hahaha!"
Fuming, Steven grabbed whatever was nearby and hurled it before storming out.
---
The car sped down the near-empty road, illuminated only by its own headlights. The night air crept in through the slightly open window, carrying the scent of wet earth after rain. His fingers tapped the steering wheel to the faint rhythm of the radio. In the distance, the city lights grew clearer—his long drive was almost over.
‘If only I—’
A ringing phone shattered the silence.
"Steven, you took my shoes by mistake! Get your ass back here, damn it!"
"You come to my place. I’m too lazy to turn around."
A flicker of orange light in the distance disrupted his focus—moving too fast to be a plane. Like… a firefly burning bright.
"This doesn’t make sense." Yet his heart pounded, pulse throbbing in his temples.
Suddenly, the orange streak multiplied. One, three, five—
A deafening roar from the sky replaced Liam’s voice on the phone. He finally realized—those weren’t fireflies.
Streaks of fire split the night sky—missiles streaking like roaring iron dragons. Their smoky trails left crimson gashes across the clouds, as if the sky itself bled. Closer. Faster.
The hissing pierced his eardrums, followed by an engine’s thunder that shook the ground. It sounded like death singing.
His feet froze. Blood turned to ice in his veins. His whole body trembled uncontrollably, yet he couldn’t look away—like a mouse trapped in a serpent’s gaze.
This was it. He knew it. His mind raced—run, scream, or just close his eyes and wait for the end.
Liam’s panicked voice crackled through the phone. "Hey Steven, what’s that noise? What’s happening?!"
Hearing Liam’s fear, Steven snapped back to awareness. From somewhere deep, defiance surged.
"You can’t hear that? It’s the sound of victory, you bastard! Siiiiuuuuuuu!"
___________________________
Deep in a dense forest, screams echoed—a clash between beasts and the shouts of a grandmother scolding her grandchild.
"Is your brother alright?"
The older sibling’s panicked reply came through gritted teeth. "I don’t know, but he’s still breathing."
Frustration boiled over as he recalled their earlier argument.
"I’m coming with you tonight! I want to test my new technique!"
"New technique? Did you summon something?"
"A powerful shikigami! And I won’t show you unless you take me with you tonight!"
Now, back in the present, the older boy seethed with anger and fear. If I’d known he’d be this reckless, I’d never have brought him to fight a Grade 2 curse!
"Thank goodness he’s alive. Fall back—take your brother. I’ll handle this." The grandmother’s stern voice cut through the chaos.
"Got it, Grandma."
A cold night breeze and the jostling of his body roused him from unconsciousness.
"Why are my eyes so heavy? And why am I freezing…?"
The exhausted older boy noticed his brother’s eyelids fluttering. He’s waking up.
"Oi, you idiot! What the hell happened? You trembled like a leaf just seeing a Grade 2 curse! You lost focus and got yourself gutted. If you’d just trusted your shikigami, you might’ve stood a chance!"
Hearing the childish voice and processing the words, the boy forced his eyes open—then froze. Since when was I being carried by a kid?!
"Grade 2 curse?! What the hell are you talking about, brat?!"
"Oh-ho, you want a punch to the head, huh? Just wait till training tomorrow!"
Is this a dream? His last memory was being on the city outskirts, caught in a missile blast, talking to a panicked Liam…
Then, another set of memories—this child’s memories—flooded his mind. It felt like a second life. He began to understand the boy carrying him.
This is too much. Am I insane? Or…
He’d heard people talk about isekai, but this was beyond comprehension.
His breath came in ragged gasps. The rain on his face felt scalding—or were those tears? His brother held him tighter, whispering something, but the words were muffled, as if behind a thick wall.
No… this can’t be happening…
His legs felt foreign, like they weren’t his own. His vision blurred—streetlights melted into fading streaks. Before darkness swallowed him whole, he faintly registered his brother’s grip tightening, as if trying to anchor him to this world.