"Not all scars fade. Some turn into glyphs. Lucky us, right?"
Vault of Glyphs – Hours Later
The hush after Akashi's domain crumbled wasn't peace. Felt more like running out of adrenaline and just... surviving on fumes. Something ugly lingered in the air.
Akashi Ryuunosuke—flat on his back, out cold in the ruins of his own Abyssal Severance. Cursed technique, more like cursed mess. Broken glyphs floated around him, looking like burnt confetti. His breath sounded rough, but hey, at least he was breathing. On his chest now—fresh glyph, spiral tangled with a dragon's skull.
The Spiral Monk? Gone. Zero body. Zip blood. Just a memory, burned in like a bad tattoo.
Surface - Temporary Relief
Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara finally dug Akashi out, half-buried under what used to be a hallway. Megumi squinted at the guy—he could feel it. Akashi's cursed energy had changed.
"His cursed energy's… off," Megumi muttered, crouching in.
"Feels ancient," Nobara said, wiping blood from her mouth.
Yuji, hands shaking, got Akashi loose.
"He's alive. Sort of."
"I'll do first aid," Nobara snapped, cheeks burning like she'd sprinted a mile.
Akashi looked like hell—beaten to pulp, bleeding, but still shining with that dumb hero glow.
"You absolute idiot," she hissed, slapping gauze on his shoulder. "Don't you dare die before I get to punch you."
Tokyo Jujutsu High – Recovery Wing
Three days. That's how long Akashi slept. By the time he came to, his cursed energy had settled. Different now.
That dragon form—less monster, more him. Not permanent, thank god. But he could call on it. Control it.
Yaga stood at the bed's edge. Gojo just grinned, sunglasses hiding whatever mischief he was cooking up.
"So," Gojo started, all smug, "first glyph, not dead, and you rewrote a domain. For a kid from the gutter, you're on a roll."
Akashi eased up, every muscle protesting.
"What about the Monk?"
"Vaporized. And that glyph on your chest? Ancient stuff," Yaga said, dead serious. "Older than this school. Maybe older than Sukuna."
Akashi stared at his palm—now marked too, spiral dragon curling along his hand.
"When our domains crashed, I saw something. Not just his memories—mine. My mom's death... wasn't him. He was fighting something else."
Yaga's frown deepened.
"So the real curse behind your mom's death is still out there."
Gojo laughed.
"Congrats, kid. Your revenge drama just turned into a redemption story."
Akashi didn't crack a smile, but his eyes—something finally sparked in there.
Evening – Rooftop Training Ground
Akashi was out there alone. No shirt, scars on full display. Ready for round two with the universe.
He let out a breath, fired up Dragon Tongue.
Glyphs crawled up his arms. Skin started to shift, scales prickling. Horns pressed under his hair. Wings flickered at his back.
He stopped. Forced himself to chill.
Control. Not losing himself, not this time.
He spoke instead.
"Dragon Tongue: Glyph Recall — Spiral Codex."
A spiral of cursed script spun around him. Little memory clips—fights, faces, curses. That shadow he'd seen, deeper than the Monk's nightmare.
"I need more power," he whispered, "but I'm not trading myself for it."
Footsteps.
Nobara.
"You nearly gave us all a heart attack, you know," she said, arms crossed.
"Sorry," Akashi replied, sheepish.
"Don't be." She hesitated, then softer: "Just… don't go solo next time."
He turned, caught her gaze. No words, but something passed between them.
"Yeah," he said. "Next time, we're in this together."
She smiled, and for a second, the world actually felt safe.
Elsewhere – Culling Games Begin to Stir
A man stood on the bones of an old shrine, way outside Tokyo.
He wore a twisted robe, glyphs crawling all over him—like Akashi's, just wrong, like they'd gone bad.
"So, the Heir wakes up," he mused, voice all smug and shadowy. "The Vault's cracked open. The Spiral's whispering again."
He grinned, nasty.
"Let Shibuya burn."