Fear…
What is fear? Does it merely arise when one encounters a life-or-death situation?
Yet… the one known as the 'Honored One' was overwhelmed by fear—an emotion he had never experienced, not even once in his lifetime. Not when Toji Fushiguro wielded the sacred Special Grade cursed tool, *Inverted Spear of Heaven*, to bypass his Infinity and bring him to the brink of defeat. Even then, he had not felt fear. But this…
Who the hell were these people to evoke such terror within him?
Even the *King of Curses* had failed to unsettle him. Yet here he stood, unnerved by a group of pirates who appeared utterly ordinary.
'This is insane.'
The red-haired pirate crew erupted into laughter as they celebrated, their raucous party in full swing before their impending departure.
"I didn't know you guys were in town. Is something wrong?" Makino asked, surprised to see Shanks and his crew after their long absence in the New World.
A slow smile spread across Shanks' face. "Nah. I'm searching for a certain pirate—Blackbeard—so I decided to drop by."
"Isn't that exhausting? Coming all the way back here from the New World?"
"I'll set sail for the Grand Line first thing tomorrow morning."
"Really? That's good to hear."
Lucky Roux, the so-called 'Left Wing of the Red-Haired Pirates', tore into a massive drumstick, grease glistening on his lips. "Cap'n, d'you think he's really a pirate?"
"Who knows," Shanks murmured. "If he is, we'll cross paths on the sea—assuming he's got the guts to survive the Grand Line."
"Well, let's make the most of our time here!" Yasopp cheered.
---
Gojo tucked his hands into his pockets as he stepped out of Party's Bar, sweat trickling down his temple.
Despite their carefree demeanor, he recognized them for what they were—pirates. But not just 'any' pirates.
Something was… off.
Why had they praised him after he dismantled the mountain bandits? Weren't all pirates supposed to be ruthless? Shouldn't they have robbed him—or the bar owner—blind?
Nothing about this made sense.
'Or perhaps… not all pirates are as vile as they're made out to be?' Maybe that was the answer.
Never judge a book by its cover. These men seemed like the kind who radiates warmth among friends but transformed into monsters when their loved ones were threatened.
"Damn it! I never even caught their names," Gojo muttered before a smirk curled onto his lips. "No matter. I'll find out soon enough."
It was time to unleash his inherited technique—the power to manipulate and distort space at will.
Gojo Satoru, hailed as the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, bore a title earned through unfathomable power and an innate mastery over cursed energy. Yet beneath the veil of effortless dominance lay a relentless struggle—one known only to him.
For weeks, he had stared into the abyss of his own limitations. Each dawn arrived with the sun's pale fingers stretching through the forest encircling his training grounds. Rising before daylight, Gojo embraced solitude, dissecting not just his strengths but his failures—every hesitation, every near-miss in battle, whispering the secrets of a power still just beyond his grasp.
He stood there, alone but determined. "Limitless," he murmured, the name of the technique echoing in his mind. It wasn't merely a weapon; it represented infinite possibilities. 'Infinity,' the space between himself and his enemies, a technique he had mastered to a degree, allowed him to control the flow of curses with effortless ease. Yet, it felt like a filter, only giving him a glimpse of what lay beyond.
"Why?" he pondered aloud, frustration threading through his voice. "What am I missing?"
Days blurred into nights, rituals replaced by frayed memories of attempts to unlock the deeper layers of his technique. He had trained with some of the strongest sorcerers—his instructors would preach the importance of understanding cursed energy, of harmonizing with the world around them. Yet time and again, Gojo would hit a proverbial wall, the formidable barrier radiating the weight of his unfulfilled potential.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he closed his eyes, channeling his cursed energy. It felt like a river coursing through him—wild at times, tamed at others—and he sensed a flicker of the Limitless technique stirring within. "I must break through," he thought, feeling the echo of past failures reverberate in his soul.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple as the "spiral" of Infinity flickered through his mind. The Infinity technique hinged on his perception, a realm where time and space melted into a paradox—an interconnected web where strength and weakness ceased to exist. Yet, how could he fully wield a concept so abstract?
With the moon rising, he tightened his focus. Drawing upon the well of energy within, he once again conjured the depths of his ability. "You must coexist with the Infinity," he told himself, imagining the barrier expanding and contracting like the waves of the ocean. The key lay not in sheer brute force but in surrendering to the flow of cursed energy, allowing the very essence of Infinity to become a part of him, rather than a mere tool. It was as if he needed to let go of everything familiar.
Over the following days, frustration morphed into clarity. Gojo began experimenting with different emotional states, seeking the resonance that would awaken the true depth of his capabilities. He embraced vulnerability, laughter, anger, and pain in tandem; perhaps it wasn't just the control of energy but the connection to experiences, to his past, that held the key. It was time to confront those emotions as part of his training regime.
One fateful evening, after yet another round of self-exploration, a thought struck him. "Could it be that I've been too focused on mastery and not the process?" The realization crashed over him, reshaping his perspective. Equilibrium—an understanding not just of the Infinity but of himself, of balance in emotions and energies intertwined.
He gathered his thoughts, centering his resolve. Gojo envisioned a white canvas, a pure space where energy could flow freely without interruption or bias. He could feel it; the nuanced intricacies of the Limitless technique began to reveal themselves as colors bleeding into one another. He stood once more, reached out, and blended his cursed energy into the ethereal tapestry of Infinity.
It was a breakthrough moment—a surge of power enveloped him. The dimensional walls around him dissolved. "This is it," he murmured, realizing the level of connection he needed had finally emerged. Time unraveled like a spool of thread; seconds felt like hours. He understood—not merely cognitively but instinctively—that to wield Infinity, he must synchronize his soul with the energy that flowed around him.
As he continued to embrace the feeling, something remarkable happened. The boundary that once separated him from the second layer of Infinity began to fade away. In that state, he felt the energies of the universe swirling, guiding him towards understanding the very essence of existence itself. He did not merely wield Infinity; he became an extension of it.
A sudden gust of wind stirred the leaves around him, a whisper of the world acknowledging his awakening. Gojo opened his eyes, and it was as if he was seeing everything for the first time—the faint glimmer of light in each shadow, the subtle vibrations of life that thrummed around him, each pulse resonating with the knowledge he had sought.
With newfound conviction, he channeled the Limitless technique into the air—a wave of energy rippled from him, filling the space with intricate patterns, a tapestry of energy defining a new reality. The second layer of Infinity amplified that perception, allowing him to perceive time dilating and contracting at will.
"I understand you now," he breathed, a smile creeping across his lips. It was not just a technique but a kinship with life's very fabric. Gojo had unlocked a deeper understanding of Limitless; it was freedom found in surrender, harmony discovered in chaos.
And as dawn broke, painting the sky anew, Gojo Satoru stood in radiant glory—a sorcerer who had transcended his limits, embracing Infinity in all its breathtaking complex simplicity. The strongest sorcerer was reborn not just as a title but as an embodiment of boundless potential and understood pathways—where failure and resilience danced in eternal union.