The barrier of Infinite Void slammed shut with a soundless weight, sealing Mahito within its pale expanse.
Gojo's breathing steadied as the pressure of his own domain coursed through him. His blue eyes softened just slightly, relief surfacing as he confirmed the curse was caught. The white emptiness stretched in every direction, filled with nothing but the unbearable flood of information that would drown Mahito's consciousness.
Mahito stood at the center, body flickering, six arms twitching in spasms as the assault took hold. His grotesque mask cracked further. For the first time since the fight began, his movements halted completely.
Gojo whispered under his breath, almost to himself. "Finally."
He knew Mahito could send his awareness out toward the two twisted clones that still clashed with Sukuna outside, but the core of his strength—the overwhelming river of cursed energy—was trapped here. Trapped, overwhelmed, and crushed within Infinite Void.
Gojo lowered his hand, lips curling into a faint smile. "Cursed energy which I will turn into nothing now."
For a fleeting moment, the tension on his face faded, and something gentler surfaced.
"I regret it, you know," Gojo said, voice echoing in the limitless white. "Trusting a curse with the future of my students. Believing that even something born twisted might reach out to something better." His tone hardened, carrying the weight of unspoken memories. "Back then, I thought my ambition wasn't so harmful. I thought that if I grew strong enough, no one else would have to suffer. That maybe even curses could be turned… if I reached far enough."
His voice lowered. "But power doesn't fix everything, does it? It makes you arrogant. Makes you forget."
Gojo's Six Eyes burned bright as he looked straight into Mahito's frozen, flickering frame.
"Did power corrupt your vision? Or were you always like this from the very beginning?"
The curse gave no answer. His body shook as Infinite Void suffocated him, bombarding his soul with endless streams of meaningless truths.
Gojo inhaled sharply, settling into stance. "It does not matter. You end here."
He surged forward, his form cutting across the white expanse in an instant. His fist drove straight into Mahito's chest, tearing cracks through the curse's torso. Energy rippled outward from the strike, cracking the very fabric of Mahito's body.
Cursed energy spiraled around Gojo's outstretched hand, twisting and pulling, forming the beginnings of annihilation. His voice rang out, each word sharp as a bell.
"Phase." "Pāramitā." "Pillar of Light." His right hand burned with deep crimson light. Cursed Technique Reversal: Red.
"Phase." "Twilight." "Eyes of Wisdom." His left hand swirled with crushing azure. Cursed Technique: Blue.
The two orbs screamed as they converged, purple light beginning to eclipse the white void. Gojo's body shook as the colossal mass of cursed energy stabilized between his hands. His gaze never left Mahito.
"Hollow-"
The word caught in his throat.
Mahito moved.
Before the final syllable could leave Gojo's lips, a hand shot forward—straight through his head.
The strike bypassed Infinity as though it were never there, cursed flesh sinking into the white-haired sorcerer's skull with grotesque ease.
The void rippled.
Gojo's body stiffened, his eyes wide, shock registering too late. His mind had no time to even process the betrayal of his own untouchable defense. The surge of Hollow Purple collapsed into nothing, light dying in an instant.
Mahito's grin returned, jagged and cruel. His fingers dug deeper. "Got you~"
Then, with a grotesque twist, Gojo's head shattered. Before the barrier of his domain could even collapse, Mahito opened up his own Cursed Genesis, immediately consuming Gojo's soul in a quarter of a second.
Gojo's entire form convulsed before dissolving, his body consumed, swallowed whole by the curse that had defied his domain.
When the barrier of Infinite Void collapsed, Mahito was the only one standing. He licked his lips, savoring the fading taste of Gojo's soul.
The pale ground of the domain vanished, leaving only the ruined battlefield. And upon it lay dark red blood. Gojo's blood.
The monitors at Jujutsu High went silent.
Utahime staggered backward, hand flying to her mouth. Panda froze mid-step, his body trembling. Yuta's eyes widened, disbelieving, lips parting but no words escaping.
"...He…" Kusakabe stammered. His voice cracked. "He killed Gojo?... In his own domain?"
Shoko's cigarette fell from her lips, forgotten. Her usually unreadable expression fractured as her hand trembled against the table. There wasn't even a body to recover...
Maki's nails dug into her palms so deeply they drew blood. She stared, unable to look away from the pool of crimson on the battlefield.
"It is… not possible," Yuki whispered. Yet her words carried no confidence.
No one moved. The silence was suffocating.
Mahito broke it in laughter. It spilled out harsh and unrelenting, echoing across fire, magma, and fractured stone. It was as if he had told himself a joke, one he refused to share with everyone else.
Mahito exhaled slowly, eventually, flexing his six arms. Each movement dripped with satisfaction. 'So this is what it feels like… overcoming the strongest. Every barrier. The highest peak of Jujutsu. Broken.'
He tilted his head, feeling the golden wheel at his back hum faintly, as though echoing his triumph. 'Infinity overcome through sheer adaptation... Infinity tanked by the mirad souls nestled deep within me, maybe even by pieces of his own students~ His certainty, his arrogance, all of it swallowed.'
The thought filled him with glee, yet his smile remained oddly quiet.
Finally, he spoke, voice low and deliberate. "So much for the strongest."
No explanations. No long sermon. Just a simple truth, sharp enough to cut deeper than any boast.
Mahito's laughter returned next, sudden and unrestrained, spilling across the battlefield like broken glass. It was not manic this time, but rich with vindication.
He turned his gaze toward the crows perched on top of broken and melted buildings in the distance, looking right in the eyes of those spectating. "What will you all do now, without your pillar?!" His words carried like a curse, taunting, daring anyone to answer.
In truth, he knew the truth. No one could ever replace Gojo. No one had the strength or the mindset to bear the burden of the strongest. To become a monster for the sake of others, to become a tool.
Maybe Yuta could grow to that level eventually, but now? The modern Jujutsu World was empty of any contenders.
Then his laughter returned, cruel and rising, echoing over the wreckage.
And within himself, Mahito thought of the white-haired sorcerer's last moments, the look in his eyes when Infinity failed him. That flash of surprise. That single second of helplessness.
He savored it, replaying it again and again.
'Gojo Satoru. The man who believed himself untouchable. The man who thought he could shape the world. Gone. Devoured. Another piece of me now.'
His laughter cut through the smoke, sharp and merciless.
On the field, the only other person left standing was Sukuna, his own body battered and drenched in blood. The mangled corpses of the Heavenly Restriction clones lay at his feet, ripped apart.
Each kill had chipped into Mahito's soul, leaving scars across the curse's body, but the damage meant little now.
The King of Curses straightened slowly, crimson eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Gojo's blood staining the battlefield.
Mahito's grin widened as he whispered, almost sweetly, "I have already won."