What makes a cursed technique strong?
That question lingered in the minds of every sorcerer who had ever survived long enough to reflect on their power.
The answer was never simple. Strength in the world of jujutsu could not be measured only by how destructive a technique appeared. Several factors came into play.
The first was understanding. The deeper one grasped the true nature of their cursed technique, the more it could be bent, broken, or reshaped to fit impossible circumstances. Binding vows were built upon this principle, taking weaknesses and turning them into opportunities.
The second was identity. A cursed technique was a mirror of the sorcerer's soul. To truly wield one's technique at the highest level was to understand what it represented about the self. Mastery of a technique required mastery of one's essence.
And the third, perhaps the most decisive factor of all, was cursed energy itself. Raw reserves, tempered by control. All techniques meant nothing without the fuel to drive them.
The Ten Shadows Technique was proof. In Megumi's hands, it had shown versatility and creativity, yet the shikigami he summoned were limited, fragile compared to the power of true calamities.
In Sukuna's possession, those same shadows were pushed to extremes, the shikigami swollen into titanic beasts capable of leveling entire city blocks. The same technique, different soul, different reserves, different results.
Of course, one also had to control said energy. Gojo had a lot less cursed energy than Mahito and Sukuna, yet with his god-like control, he was essentially able to fight endlessly.
Mahito had studied this truth carefully. He had researched the very nature of consumption not out of gluttony, but strategy.
Devouring techniques was not simply about stealing tools. It was about finding how his body, his soul, and his infinite potential for mutation could bring out the best possible version of those abilities.
It was why he had swallowed Jogo whole, why he had claimed the cursed spirit of lightning, why he had chosen every technique that could scale endlessly.
Disaster Flames, which could set the earth itself ablaze. Calamity Lightning, which could split the sky.
Techniques that were already calamities in their own right, now refined into his ever-shifting flesh.
And he had gone further, claiming abilities that altered terrain itself. One such technique allowed him to shift the very earth beneath his feet, in the hands of his previous user, it could at most make the ground a bit muddy, or trip someone up.
In Mahito's hands, it was not a parlor trick. It was an earthquake generator. It was the movement of tectonic plates. It was an entire city's foundations turned into a weapon.
These truths became clear as the clash in Shinjuku escalated.
Mahito's laughter had hardly faded from the scar that split across his torso before the ground quaked again. This was not the force of a blow.
The street itself convulsed, buckling as if a giant had grasped the city and twisted. Skyscrapers trembled, windows shattered in waves, and deep cracks tore open as entire blocks collapsed inward.
Sukuna's grin widened, his crimson eyes gleaming. He leapt clear of a collapsing boulevard, landing atop a crumbling tower and driving his claws into the surface to anchor himself.
Gojo flickered across the battlefield, moving through Infinity itself, unaffected by the chaos. He paused only to shake his head. "So this is what you've been cooking up, huh? Guess you weren't just making toys..."
Mahito's voice carried through the rupturing city, amplified by the storm of cursed energy radiating from his form. "What is strength, Gojo? What is power, Sukuna? It is not bloodline techniques. It is not titles. It is not kingship. It is adaptation. And I am the proof."
From the shattered earth, pillars of magma erupted, the asphalt giving way to rivers of molten stone. Disaster Flames intermingled with the Earth Shaping technique, turning streets into seas of fire.
Sukuna's abdomen-mouth chuckled, teeth gnashing as the King of Curses leapt through the volcanic spray. His voice echoed over the roar of magma. "Some bright flames won't help you at all! Are you just showing off?!"
His fingers slashed the air, invisible blades of cursed energy crossing in patterns too fast for the eye. "Dismantle."
Entire geysers of magma split in midair, cut into ribbons, redirected away from him. His slashes cleaved towers into dust, parted the streets, and yet Mahito danced through them, twisting his armored body with grotesque precision.
He had already gotten more used to Sukuna's slashes.
Gojo raised his hand calmly, cursed energy surging into a perfect singularity. "Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."
The battlefield warped as space folded in on itself. Debris, flames, and Mahito's own projectiles were sucked into the collapsing void, dragged violently toward the glowing sphere in Gojo's palm, which the blue-eyed sorcerer proceeded to let float in the middle of the sky.
Mahito snarled, spreading six arms wide to anchor himself, talons stabbing into the asphalt. His exoskeleton cracked under the strain, but he resisted the pull long enough to counter. Lightning split the sky above him, bolts of violet descending like divine punishment.
Two enormous shadows unfurled from the cracks behind him. Nue.
But these were not Megumi's small birdlike shikigami. These were colossal monsters, each the size of an office tower, with human face masks grafted grotesquely onto their feathered heads. Their wings carried storms, their eyes glowed with raw electricity.
The first shrieked and dove, lashing out with a lightning storm that engulfed Sukuna before he could react. The King of Curses snarled as volts ripped through his body, his tattoos flickering, his flesh searing for the first time in centuries.
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From the watching screens, Yuta surged to his feet, his face pale. "That's… that's Megumi's technique!"
Maki's fists clenched tight, her voice hoarse. "No… he ripped it out of him."
Yuki's eyes narrowed, fury flashing across her features. "So that is why Fushiguro remains comatose. Mahito carved his soul apart."
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In the distance, Kenjaku tilted his head, watching with cool interest. "How clever. He has learned to separate the cursed technique from the soul. I underestimated his innovation."
Uraume's lips trembled with anger. But she couldn't say anything. By that point, even one of the shikigami that Mahito could summon could kill her outright.
Yet, she could not help but curse under her breath at how far removed the situation was from Sukuna's plans.
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Back on the battlefield, Gojo's calm cracked. His easy smirk vanished, replaced by cold fury.
"You took his technique? You mangled his soul... For what!?" His hand spread wide, cursed energy roaring into existence, the air bending violently around him.
"Now now, I left him alive and healthy, didn't I? Made sure to keep our silly little promise~" Mahito grinned widely at the blue-eyed sorcerer.
"I see... Then disappear." Gojo's voice rang like judgment itself. And he wasted no time either. "Phase... Pāramitā... Pillar of Light." As he spoke, a build-up of cursed energy surged towards his fingers.
"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."
The sphere of annihilation formed at the tip of his finger, repelling space outward in a destructive pulse. The ground tore apart beneath it, entire buildings atomized into dust.
Gojo's other hand lifted in tandem, shooting it straight towards the 'Blue' that still hung in the sky.
He seemed intent on merging Red and Blue together, his voice echoing with clarity that carried across Shinjuku.
"Phase."
"Twilight."
"Eyes of Wisdo-"
Yet, before he was able to unleash the full incantation of his Blue, he was interrupted.
Mahito's laughter cracked through the chaos. "Not so fast!"
Six arms spread wide, the curse drove his body into the earth itself. The terrain rippled like water, tectonic plates grinding.
The street rose into walls of jagged stone, magma funneled upward, debris surged in torrents, all slamming toward Gojo in a tidal wave, while also separating the red and blue orbs by force.
At the same instant, Sukuna moved. His four arms carved the air, a storm of slashes aimed not at Mahito, but at Gojo.
He had already been caught within a Hollow Purple at the very start of the fight, he was not stupid enough to get caught in another.
Invisible blades screamed toward Gojo, intent on shredding him before his technique could release.
Gojo cursed under his breath, his concentration fracturing. The red and blue, destabilizing before their full potential could be unleashed.
He was forced to cancel them, dispersing the energy violently. The backlash split the ground apart in shockwaves, tearing a crater hundreds of meters wide.
Even though that, the white-haired sorcerer never stopped moving.
Mahito lunged from the smoke, his claws crackling with lightning, his body blazing with fire. He struck with all six arms at once.
Gojo did not flinch. His fist snapped forward.
Black Flash.
The strike detonated like a cannon, reality itself bending around the impact. The blow landed square into Mahito's jaw, shattering his armored mask, sending him reeling with blood spraying.
Gojo followed instantly, his leg whipping upward in a high kick that connected with Sukuna's chest. The King of Curses snarled as he was launched backward, smashing through a half-collapsed skyscraper.
Mahito staggered, the scar from Sukuna's dismantle still bleeding freely, the Black Flash now fracturing his jawline. Yet he grinned wider, his purple eyes shining like a furnace.
"Yes. Yes! This is what I wanted!"
The cursed energy in the plaza surged beyond limits, storming outward until even the spectators behind barriers staggered under the weight of it.
Three voices echoed at once.
"Domain Expansion-"
"Malevolent Shrine!"
"Unlimited Void-"
"Cursed Genesis~"
The world itself cracked as three domains erupted simultaneously, colliding in a storm that split heaven and earth.
The first domain clash started in full.