Mahito's grin split across his face, blood steaming from cracks in his body as he whispered, almost tenderly, "I have already won."
The words lingered in the air, heavy as iron.
No one answered. Not at first.
In the command center at Jujutsu High, silence stretched into eternity. The monitors still glowed with the aftermath of Infinite Void's collapse, Gojo's blood splattering across the battlefield. That was all that remained of the strongest sorcerer alive.
Yuta's body sagged back against the table. He could not move, could not even process the weight of what his eyes showed him. The man who had taught him to believe in strength, to stand tall even in the face of curses, was gone. Not defeated. Not sealed. Gone.
Yaga's fist slammed against the wall, the plaster cracking beneath his knuckles. His eyes burned with fury, but his voice cracked when he tried to speak. "He… he just-" The words fell apart before they even reached his throat.
Utahime stumbled, grabbing the edge of her chair to keep from collapsing. Her lips trembled, whispering prayers to no one in particular, words too broken to make sense.
Shoko's cigarette burned out between her fingers, forgotten. For the first time in years, the woman who had seen too many bodies broken beyond recognition closed her eyes, her voice hoarse. "There is not even a body to bring back."
Maki's fists clenched so tight her knuckles split. Her breath came in uneven bursts, her chest heaving, but her eyes refused to leave the monitor. "No. Not him."
Kusakabe leaned back against the wall, his sword rattling in its sheath. He muttered curses, not at Mahito, not at Gojo, but at the cruel shape of fate itself.
Yuki Tsukumo sat still, hand pressed against her mouth, her gaze narrow but unfocused. Of all of them, she was the one who had treated Gojo like a peer. Yet her words, when they came, were stripped of certainty. "The balance of this world is gone."
And Mai, she only glanced sideways at her sister. She did not speak. She did not need to. The trembling in Maki's hands spoke louder than words.
The strongest had fallen.
The entire jujutsu world shuddered with that realization.
-
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-
Back on the battlefield, Mahito stood tall, his body still cracked and leaking cursed light, yet smiling as if he were untouchable. The golden wheel at his back trembled faintly, its hum nearly drowned by the sound of lava bubbling and fractured stone collapsing.
Across from him, Sukuna straightened slowly. His crimson eyes burned hotter, not with shock but with unbridled rage. Blood poured from his torn arms and ripped torso, yet the King of Curses still carried himself as though nothing in existence could humble him.
The silence was shattered when Sukuna finally spoke.
"You bastard…" His voice was guttural, filled with violence, each word a curse in itself. "Does killing this measly era's strongest make you this smug?"
Mahito tilted his head, saying nothing. He simply smiled wider, his six arms twitching, flexing as cursed energy coiled around them.
Sukuna's teeth bared in a grin that was more hate than amusement. "Fine. You ate him. You devoured the fool. Then I will take pleasure in carving what is left of him from your body when I rip you apart."
The King of Curses stepped forward. The battlefield trembled under his weight. His aura expanded, crimson tattoos igniting brighter, his killing intent saturating the ruined city like a storm.
Mahito did not flinch. He let him come. His silence was louder than any boast, a declaration that he had surpassed even Gojo Satoru.
And with the golden wheel at his back, Mahito knew he would surpass Sukuna as well.
The watchers at Jujutsu High said nothing now. Their voices were gone, their disbelief stripped away.
All they could do was watch as two monsters stepped forward into the final dance, both crowned in blood, both certain of their place atop the world.
The Strongest Sorcerer was gone.
What remained was a battle between curses alone.
Sukuna lunged first, his right pair of arms driving forward in a double palm strike aimed squarely at Mahito's torso. The impact split the air like a cannon, stone shattering under the shockwave.
Mahito caught both palms on his crossed forearms, the clash reverberating through the ground, but Sukuna's lower arms were already moving, fists hammering downward toward Mahito's knees.
Mahito twisted his hips sharply, one leg snapping upward in a whip-like kick that cracked against Sukuna's ribs.
The King of Curses snarled, absorbing the blow, and retaliated by snapping his head forward, skull colliding with Mahito's mask in a brutal headbutt that split the air with a sharp crack.
Mahito staggered back, only a step, and his lower left arm split into jagged bone and sinew, reshaping into a spear. He thrust, aiming for Sukuna's gut-mouth again.
This time, Sukuna anticipated it. His upper right hand caught the spear-shaft of flesh, his lower left clawing upward toward Mahito's jaw.
Mahito jerked his head aside, Sukuna's Dismantlecarving a shallow line across his cheek, before answering with three simultaneous strikes: a hammering downward punch, a raking slash, and a knee aimed at Sukuna's stomach.
Sukuna met them all. One hand intercepted the punch, his forearm absorbed the slash, and his lower right leg shot forward to meet Mahito's knee mid-air, bone colliding with bone in a resounding crack.
The force sent both flying back a step, but neither relented.
Sukuna twisted, one arm sweeping outward, releasing another crescent barrage of Dismantles. The invisible slashes carved across the field, shredding molten stone in their path.
Mahito ducked low beneath the storm, sliding forward on hands and feet like a spider, absorbing numerous cuts before springing upward. His six arms blurred in a storm of strikes, claws, and blades lashing at Sukuna's chest.
Sukuna braced himself, three arms blocking, the fourth reaching for Mahito's head. He caught it, his palm pressing against Mahito's cheek.
"Cleave."
The word cracked the air. Mahito's cheek split, half his jaw tearing away in an instant. But at the same time, Mahito's lower arm detached and pierced clean through Sukuna's side, blood spraying outward.
Both staggered, blood dripping, neither backing away.
Sukuna tore Mahito's arm free from his side and hurled it away, his expression carved from fury. He surged forward, his fists blurring as he unleashed a barrage of blows, upper arms hammering downward while his lower arms lashed outward with claw-like swipes.
Each strike shook the ground, gouging craters into the molten streets.
Mahito matched him, six newly regenerated arms weaving like a net. He caught, parried, and twisted each strike into openings, his body bending unnaturally, torso contorting as if his bones were water.
He ducked beneath one overhead strike and rammed both fists upward into Sukuna's ribs, lifting the King of Curses off the ground with sheer force.
Sukuna snarled mid-air, twisting his body and slamming both knees down across Mahito's shoulders as he landed. The impact drove Mahito into the earth, fissures splitting outward.
But Mahito's laugh echoed from below. "More, Sukuna!"
He exploded upward, catching Sukuna's lower left arm and ripping it back until muscle and tendon tore with a wet rip. Blood sprayed, Sukuna's roar shaking the air.
Mahito stepped back, holding the severed limb for a moment before discarding it, his grin unbroken.
Sukuna's teeth gnashed, but he only laughed, blood running down his chin. "By now, you ought to know that losing two arms isn't enough to kill me!"
The King of Curses leapt forward, crimson aura blazing hotter, his two remaining arms a blur of destruction. Mahito met him with all six, and the battlefield became chaos incarnate.
Every clash cracked the air, blows reverberating like thunderclaps. Fist to claw, elbow to knee, strikes sliding past Infinity's absence, each move answered by another.
Sukuna's remaining hands struck like guillotines, each palm aiming to land another Cleave, but Mahito disengaged at the slightest flare of cursed energy, slipping away before the fatal cut could land.
Once, Sukuna caught Mahito's torso with Cleave, tearing half his ribcage apart. But the curse answered by tearing away another of Sukuna's arms in return, evening the field further.
Blood rained down in steaming sheets, hissing as it met the molten ground.
But Mahito eventually stopped. He regenerates his body and rolls his shoulders with a smile.
Sukuna immediately takes that opportunity, sending a net of dismantles towards him... All of which seem to stop in mid air, just before reaching the intended target.
"Now then. Time to end this charade..."