The canyon was silent.
Not the kind of silence that let the wind carry whispers. The kind that pressed against the ears, filling them with nothing and making everything else unbearable. Dust clung to the jagged cliffs, the kind of grit that scratched at lungs if you breathed too deeply.
Yutsumi Okkotsu stood at the edge of the formation, hands clenched tightly at his sides. He could feel it even before Maru spoke—the energy, pulsing beneath the rocks, like the heartbeat of a world too old to remember its own name.
Yuka hovered nearby, scanning every shadow, every flicker of cursed energy. "This place… smells like power," she said softly.
"It's not just power," Maru replied, voice low. His third eye, now fully contained but still alert, glimmered faintly beneath his hair. "It's Mul."
Yutsumi frowned. "Mul?"
Maru gestured toward the canyon floor. The rocks there shimmered with an unnatural glow—golden, metallic, almost liquid in appearance. They weren't just rocks. They hummed.
"This is the mineral that fueled the war," Maru explained. "It can transform cursed energy into any form. Any. And it's tied to Simurian identity. Its misuse has torn tribes apart."
Yutsumi's hands flexed. His cursed energy flared slightly, instinctively reaching toward the stones. He could feel them, almost as if the mineral were alive, and it responded to intention.
Yuka noticed immediately. "Yutsumi—don't!" she hissed.
He froze, looking back at her. "I'm not going to touch it," he said quickly. "But I can… understand it."
Tsurugi, standing slightly apart, lowered his sword slowly. "Careful. Even Maru doesn't manipulate Mul lightly."
Maru's gaze drifted toward the far canyon wall. "These stones were left by my ancestor, Doura. They were gifts—tools for survival. But greed and ignorance turned them into weapons."
Yuka's grip tightened on Yutsumi's arm. "Why are we even here?" she asked, voice trembling. "We're supposed to stop curses, not watch ancient treasures talk to kids."
"This isn't just history," Maru said. "It's the trigger. Whoever controls Mul controls the balance of our world—and Masaki's chaos wasn't an isolated incident. It was a signal."
Yutsumi's eyes narrowed. He could sense it, a thread connecting everything—the recent battles, the distortion of Maru's third eye, the adaptive energy coursing through him. And now, these stones.
"Can it be controlled?" Tsurugi asked.
"Controlled?" Maru's lips twitched. "Perhaps. But Mul responds. It doesn't obey. It aligns itself to the strongest intention it detects. That is why its power has caused both creation and devastation."
Yutsumi stepped closer to the edge, heart pounding. His cursed energy pulsed in sync with the stones, reading their flow, adjusting.
Yuka's voice came sharp. "Yutsumi!"
He stopped abruptly, realizing he'd moved without thinking. Yuka's hands gripped his shoulders firmly, pressing him back. "You can sense it. That's enough. Don't use it."
He nodded slowly, swallowing hard. "I'm listening, not taking."
Maru stepped forward. "The canal stones… the ones humans walk over without knowing… they're made of Mul. Doura left them so our people could reclaim power when the time came. And now… you, Yutsumi, are standing at the threshold of understanding it."
Yutsumi exhaled, the energy around him settling into a tense harmony. He closed his eyes and extended his senses, feeling the mineral's resonance. Unlike curses or sorcery, Mul didn't have malice—it had purpose. And it responded to intention.
Yuka stepped closer again. "You can't do this alone," she said quietly, her voice almost pleading. "Not even if Grandpa's power runs through you. I won't let you."
Her hand brushed against his arm. Yutsumi felt a warmth that went beyond physical touch. Protective. Determined. Unyielding.
"I know," he said softly. "And I… I don't want to do it alone."
A low rumble echoed through the canyon. Yutsumi opened his eyes. One of the stones shifted, rising slightly from the ground as if acknowledging his presence. His cursed energy instinctively adjusted to its pattern, analyzing its resonance and adapting to the flow.
Maru's eyes widened. "He's doing it… without touching it."
"Adaptive Perfect Copy," Tsurugi murmured, almost under his breath. "Not just copying… understanding."
The stone pulsed again, and suddenly, the air shimmered violently. Yutsumi's energy flared reflexively, reading the pulse, adjusting to maintain balance.
But then—something unexpected.
A surge of energy, dark and jagged, rippled through the canyon. It wasn't Mul. It was interference. Something… alien.
Yutsumi faltered, his adaptive energy struggling to compensate. The mineral recoiled slightly, like a living thing startled.
Yuka gasped. "Yutsumi!"
He clenched his fists, focusing. His body tried to mimic the pulse, but the energy was too alien, too chaotic.
Maru's expression darkened. "This… this shouldn't be possible."
From the shadows of the canyon, a figure emerged. Its body radiated cursed energy unlike anything Yutsumi had encountered—twisted, reactive, and seemingly intelligent.
"Not bad," the figure said, voice smooth but hollow. "The boy adapts. But can he survive what Mul truly demands?"
Yutsumi's cursed energy flared instinctively. He tried to read, analyze, adapt—but the surge pushed back. This was the first time his Adaptive Perfect Copy faltered.
Yuka's voice broke through panic. "Focus on me, Yutsumi! Not them!"
He exhaled, letting her guidance anchor him. Slowly, his energy stabilized—not perfect, but enough. The stone pulsed in recognition, shifting slightly to form a barrier between them and the newcomer.
Maru stepped forward cautiously. "Mul has chosen… for now."
The figure laughed, vanishing into cursed energy. "We'll meet again, boy. And next time, your adaptation won't be enough."
Yuka grabbed Yutsumi's hand, holding it tightly. "Don't look at me like that," she whispered. "You're still my brother. My job is to make sure you stay alive."
Yutsumi nodded. "I won't let you down."
Tsurugi glanced at them, frowning. "You two are ridiculous."
"Not ridiculous," Yuka snapped. "Necessary."
The canyon was silent again. The Mul pulsed faintly, a gentle hum against the dark.
Yutsumi's eyes flicked toward it, understanding for the first time the weight of responsibility that came with being able to adapt, to perfect, to survive. He was no longer just a boy reborn into the world of jujutsu—he was something new, something unpredictable, and now, something the Simurian world itself had taken note of.
And far above Earth, hidden from all sight, Cross watched the same feed.
"The variable learns… and it fails," he murmured. "Perfect adaptation is not mastery. Yet. Soon… it will be the fulcrum of everything."
Yuka's hand tightened around his.
"We'll survive this," she whispered. "Together."
Yutsumi nodded.
And the stones beneath their feet pulsed in response.