"Cursed energy lingers in blood… but real malice? That crap sticks around forever."
—Tengen
Kyoto, Underground Shrine – Midnight
Rain hammered the busted old gates, pooling in the cracks. Somewhere down below, way under the city's bones, candlelight made the shadows crawl—long, freaky shapes twitching around a spiral chamber.
They all wore these masks. White ceramic, fangs carved in like some twisted Halloween party—except the leader, who looked like a walking bloodstain: tall, wrapped up in crimson strips, standing in front of a shrine made from bones and snake scales. Nope, not sketchy at all.
A voice oozed out of the stone. Creepy doesn't even cover it.
"The dragon wakes up… too soon."
One cultist got real low, forehead almost on the floor.
"The Abyssal Flame stirred. The Spiral Codex throbbed."
The leader waved a hand. "Then we will start. Our Heir snatches the first curse… swallows it whole."
A black-wrapped scroll landed on the altar. The glyph burned red, like a warning or maybe an invitation. Hard to tell.
Tokyo Jujutsu High — Recovery Wing
Akashi sat on his bed's edge, shirt off, chest wrapped in bandages. That dragon-shaped scar in the middle of his chest still glowed, like it hadn't decided if it wanted to heal or burn him up from the inside.
Nobara leaned against the wall, arms folded, giving him that look—the one that's half annoyed, half worried.
"You're now collecting scars, huh? Some of 'em look like they wanna gossip."
He smirked, just a bit.
"They remind me I'm still here. Remind me what I'm fighting for."
Nobara rolled her eyes, but her voice lost its edge.
"Yeah, well… don't let the dragon swallow you dumbass, alright?"
He shrugged. "No promises."
They both grinned. It was enough.
Elsewhere – Meeting Room
Gojo, Nanami, Utahime, and Principal Yaga sat around looking like someone farted and nobody wanted to claim it. Akashi stood dead center, back in his sorcerer getup—looking every bit like he belonged in the mess.
Yaga finally broke the awkward silence.
"The Spiral Cult's back at it."
Gojo leaned back, all lazy confidence. "Typical. They've been hiding since the Star Plasma mess. Guess Akashi's domain poked their old junk."
Nanami pushed his glasses up, all business. "Their rituals match Heian-era cursed energy. If they're tapping that vein again, we might get a full-on resurrection gig."
Utahime locked eyes with Akashi. "You cracked the Spiral Codex right .What'd you see?"
Akashi hesitated. His jaw worked, then he just said it:
"My mom… she was with them. Defected. They're after me to finish their curse—to close a bloodline loop that never should've started."
Gojo stood up, and for once, didn't look like he was about to crack a joke.
"We do what we always do."
He squeezed Akashi's shoulder. "We break the loop."
Akashi's at the Night up on the roof, stars overhead, Akashi worked through his forms. Cursed energy crawled across his arms in gold and red spirals. Boxing. Muay Thai. All of it blending into his Technique, movements sharp and smooth, just the way he liked.
Every punch dragged up some old memory. Every shift in his stance echoed with the dragon's breath.
His dragon arm burned, hotter than usual.
"Still hanging in there?" he muttered, flexing his fingers.
The wind, as usual, didn't answer.
Then—bam. A Vision slammed into his mind.
A cave. Bones stacked into a throne. Something in the dark—a spiral eye, opened.
His knees buckled. Heart pounding like it was trying to break out.
The cult, or maybe the curse itself, was calling. Or maybe waking up. Either way, he wasn't sleeping tonight.
The Scroll's Warning:
Gojo's room, late. An old box split open with a crack.
Inside—a preserved eye, iris swirling like a whirlpool, slit like a dragon's.
It blinked.
Yeah. Trouble's coming.