Okarun didn't just run; he tore through the geography of Shibuya.
With the Sukuna-fueled "Cutting Phase" active, he didn't need to find stairs or elevators.
He simply dashed toward the center of the station, his body flickering in a crimson-violet blur.
Every wall, every reinforced concrete floor in his path was instantly bisected by the spatial "slashes" his movement generated, leaving clean, glowing cuts behind him.
"Ayase-san, hold on tight!"
Okarun yelled.
Momo didn't need to be told twice.
She used her psychokinesis to lock herself onto his back, her eyes squeezed shut as they plummeted through five levels of solid flooring in a matter of seconds.
They burst through the ceiling of the B5F platform just as the air went dead.
Satoru Gojo was standing in the center of a literal mountain of transfigured corpses.
He had just deactivated his 0.2-second Domain Expansion.
He was exhausted, his brain fried from the sheer cognitive load of processing half a million people's worth of information.
Right in front of him sat a grotesque, fleshy cube—the Prison Realm.
"Hey, Satoru,"
A voice called out.
Gojo froze. Standing before him was Suguru Geto—or the man who looked exactly like his dead best friend.
In that single second of hesitation, the Prison Realm's "eye" opened wide, and the fleshy roots began to entwine around Gojo's legs.
"Get away from him!"
Okarun's roar echoed through the station.
Kenjaku barely had time to look up before Okarun arrived.
Usually, the Prison Realm's sealing process is an absolute law of space-time.
Once the conditions were met, the target was gone. But Okarun was currently a living violation of those laws.
He moved in a Perfect Phase, vibrating so fast that he existed in the millisecond between the Prison Realm's activation and its closure.
As he skidded across the platform, the "Cutting Phase" aura acted like a serrated blade against reality.
SHRAK!
Okarun didn't hit Kenjaku—he hit the space between Gojo and the Prison Realm.
The crimson-etched slashes sliced through the fleshy tendons of the cursed object.
The sealing process didn't stop, but it stuttered.
"What...?"
Kenjaku's eyes widened. He saw the black markings on Okarun's skin and the terrifying, familiar "flicker" of Sukuna's energy.
"A host? No... you've digested it?"
Gojo, snapped out of his trance by the sheer wrongness of Okarun's energy, pushed back against the cube.
With the roots severed by Okarun's spatial cuts, Gojo regained a sliver of momentum.
"Okarun-kun!"
Gojo shouted, his Six Eyes glowing with a frantic intensity.
"The cube! It's still trying to lock onto my frequency! Cut the ground beneath it!"
Okarun didn't hesitate. He accelerated into a high-speed circle around the Prison Realm. The "Cutting Phase" created a literal void in the floor, dropping the cube into the dark tunnels below before it could finish the seal on Gojo.
But the strain was immense.
Okarun's body began to smoke. The Sukuna-energy he had eaten was fighting against the Turbo-engine in his heart.
"Okarun, stop! You're going to break apart!"
Momo leaped off his back, projecting a massive psychic barrier between them and the shocked curses—Jogo, Mahito, and Choso.
Okarun skidded to a halt next to Gojo, his mask shattered, blood trickling from his eyes.
He was panting, his skin flickering between solid and translucent.
"I... I didn't let him... get caught,"
Okarun wheezed, looking at Gojo.
Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, stood there breathing heavily, staring at the high school boy who had just done the impossible.
He looked down at the deep gashes Okarun had left in the reality of the station—cuts that were refusing to heal.
"You really are a wild card,"
Gojo murmured, a sharp, dangerous grin returning to his face as he looked at the gathered curses.
"And you just gave me my second wind."
He turned to the terrified Cursed Spirits, his blue eyes burning with cold fury.
"Now then... which one of you wants to go first? Or do I let the kid 'digest' the rest of you?"