The round table was not ornate. It was not even round in the strictest sense, just an old slab of wood polished until the grain shone like rivers winding through a map. But what mattered was not the table itself.
What mattered was who sat around it.
For the first time in centuries, the council had changed. The young sorcerers had built something new, though the ghost of the old system clung to it like mold.
Five figures gathered there, each one carrying the weight of authority in a different way.
Yuta Okkotsu sat with his hands folded tightly in his lap, quiet as always, though the tension in his posture betrayed his unease. His sword leaned against the wall nearby, always within arm's reach.
His eyes, dark and thoughtful, occasionally flicked to Yuki Tsukumo, as though hoping she would say something first.
Yuki slouched in her chair, chin resting in her palm, her gaze fixed on the grain of the wood.
The only woman recognized as a special grade, her presence carried weight even when she said nothing.
Beside them, Kusakabe leaned back with his arms crossed. The strongest grade 1 sorcerer alive, he was a man of both pragmatism and bitterness, rarely saying more than he needed to. But his voice was respected.
At the head sat Principal Yaga, though he did not act the part of ruler. His broad arms rested on the table, his expression stern. He had taken to politics with surprising ease, navigating the fractured clans like a man steering a ship through stormy waters.
Where others hesitated, he spoke plainly. Where others fumbled, he connected dots. It was Yaga's hand that held the clans together now, though few acknowledged it openly.
And finally, there was Mei Mei.
She sat with her legs crossed, elegant as ever, a faint smile curling her lips. Out of all of them, she looked the most at ease, her silver hair shining under the dim light, her crow perched obediently on her shoulder.
She had leveraged the elders' deaths into profits, just as she had prepared for their fall before anyone else. The others thought she had simply guessed right.
None of them knew the truth: that she had planned ahead with Mahito himself, and that nearly half of her profits still flowed to him.
They did not need to know.
The crow shifted on her shoulder, wings rustling, and the round table turned to its purpose.
They were here to discuss what Mei Mei's crow had seen.
Mahito and Sukuna.
The confrontation in Shibuya was seared into their minds. The crow had caught everything in vivid detail. The soldiers parting, the monstrous throne, the tension thick enough to smother the streets.
And then the strike.
Sukuna had not waited long. His Dismantle had cut into Mahito in an instant, slicing his body into a hundred pieces, each chunk of flesh thrown across the plaza. It had been surgical, merciless, as if to prove a point.
But it had not mattered.
The body on the throne had not been Mahito's true self. The pieces writhed, stitched themselves back together, and soon enough the curse was whole again, smiling that same mocking smile as if nothing had happened.
The crow had seen Sukuna's scowl, his recognition that brute force would not end this. The strike was proof of his strength, but the survival was proof of Mahito's grotesque growth.
The table had been quiet since the report.
Kusakabe broke it first. "If even Sukuna can't end him in one blow… what the hell are we supposed to do?"
Yuta's eyes tightened. "It was a clone. Not the original. If we can find the real one-"
"Find?" Kusakabe snapped, though his voice stayed low. "The thing's sprouting clones like weeds, each one stronger than the last. How do you 'find' the original in that mess? And how do you survive long enough to do it?"
Yaga raised a hand. "Calm down. We knew this wouldn't be easy. Even with our preparation and the training we've done, it was never going to be easy..." His voice was steady, though there was no denying the weight in it.
Yuki's lips twisted. "Easy? Mahito's warping the rules. He's not just building an army, He's morphing the world around him to his liking... Just us being able to perceive the soul and harm it is not enough... And from what I saw…" She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Sukuna knew it too. That wasn't a fight he wanted to push."
Her words made Yuta flinch.
"I still think," he said quietly, "if they push far enough, one will kill the other. That's better for us. A weakened survivor, easier to put down."
Mei Mei smiled faintly. "Or we wait too long and the survivor has grown too strong for any of us to face. Patience is an investment, Yuta. But investments can sour."
The room fell quiet again, heavy with implication.
It was then that the silence fractured.
A voice, casual, familiar, impossible to mistake.
"Man, I thought I was walking into a room full of fossils. This is a nice upgrade."
They turned.
Gojo Satoru stood in the center of the chamber, hands in his pockets, blindfold nowhere in sight. His six eyes glimmered faintly, scanning the room as if he had already absorbed every detail.
He looked at each of them, his lips quirking into a small smile. "No elders? Guess someone beat me to it."
Yaga's mouth tightened. "Gojo."
Gojo tilted his head. "Principal. You look good. Less gray than I imagined after everything."
Yuki leaned back, smirking faintly. "And here I thought you were sealed away for good. Guess not."
"Guess not," Gojo echoed, still smiling, though there was steel beneath it.
They gave him the explanations. The rise of Mahito. The shifting of Shibuya. The grotesque mockery of order that had emerged in the elders' absence. They told him what Mei Mei's crow had seen, the clash of two Kings.
Gojo listened, arms folded now, his expression unreadable. Only when they had finished did he speak again.
"You left something out." His eyes gleamed faintly, sharp. "The deal."
The others stared.
Yaga frowned. "Deal?"
Gojo nodded. "Mahito and Sukuna made a binding vow. One month from now, they'll fight at full strength. No tricks, no hidden clones, no back doors. A real duel. And they chose their battlefield." He let the words hang for a moment before finishing.
"Shinjuku... I've been invited as well, hence my release from the prison realm... A final battle to decide who the strongest is, once and for all."
The room reacted all at once.
Kusakabe swore under his breath. Mei Mei's smile widened, eyes glinting with interest. Yuki's expression flickered, a storm of thoughts flashing behind her eyes.
Yuta looked straight at Gojo. "Are you actually going along with this? With their madness?"
The question cut through the room like a blade.
Gojo did not answer right away. He rubbed his chin, gaze tilting upward, the silence stretching until it became its own kind of answer. Then, slowly, he shook his head.
"I have to," he said simply. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of something final. "Keeping Yuji safe was my responsibility. I can't walk away from that. Not now."
Yuta's hands tightened in his lap. Mei Mei tilted her head, studying Gojo like a hawk eyeing prey. Yaga's expression hardened, though he gave no protest.
And so the stage was set.
The three strongest would gather in one place. Mahito. Sukuna. Gojo
The battlefield: Shinjuku.
They had one month.
One month to prepare.
One month before the end.