"Infinite Void."
Endless information was brutally and mercilessly forced into everyone's minds, more and more, more and more... There was simply too much. They could not endure it anymore.
They could not bear it. The human brain was only so large, only able to contain so much, but Gojo Satoru had poured in an overwhelming amount all at once. Ah... they could not hold on. They were breaking...
In that single instant, half a year's worth of information was forcibly injected into everyone's minds.
It was like a storm tearing at every soul. Gojo Satoru had expanded his Domain for only 0.2 seconds.
He had calculated it precisely. It was the optimal duration. Yet even those 0.2 seconds were enough to render every human within a full five-hundred-meter radius around the fifth underground level unconscious.
At the very center of that storm, Snake Head, Jogo, and Choso
witnessed the universe in that instant—the rise and fall of all things, the endless transformations of the world, all of it poured directly into their minds.
It was so vast that it inspired pure terror.
They knew everything.
And because they knew everything, they could do nothing.
All they could do was watch helplessly.
Gojo Satoru turned into a blur, then into a hurricane. His white hair streamed through the air like a silver ribbon dancing in the wind. More than a thousand Transfigured Humans, more than a thousand monsters, had their heads torn off and their bodies ripped apart in that silver dance. Blood scattered everywhere. Gojo Satoru relied only on his physical body, the rage in his heart that refused to burn out, and the pride he had possessed since birth, carving a broad road through the sea of blood.
Within 299 seconds, an entire trainload of Transfigured Humans on the third underground level had been annihilated.
Jogo was the first to recover from Infinite Void, but his vision immediately went dark as tremendous force punched through his chest.
Jogo felt himself slam heavily into a wall. His brain was compressed and smashed bloody, again and again, until half the wall had been reduced to powder.
This monster...
Its consciousness gradually faded. Scenes from the past began running backward.
"Jogo, I need you to hold Gojo Satoru back..."
"There is nothing in this world that the Prison Realm cannot seal..."
"Maximum: Meteor."
It whispered the words softly.
Flames—flames of an unfathomable depth, as though the Golden Crow had fallen to the earth, as though the sun itself hung low over the ground. Under that extreme heat, steel melted, the earth burned through, and the air compressed further and further until it reached its limit, then
exploded.
A sea of fire raised a violent shock wave, spreading madly in every direction and devouring everything in its path.
A Simple Domain enveloped the flames, neutralizing Limitless.
Tch.
Gojo Satoru retreated several steps, flashed aside, and escaped the fiercest part of the fire. But he could not retreat any farther—the crowd was directly behind him.
He could only protect the people behind him.
Only...
Blue.
Cursed Technique Reversal.
His right hand traced a semicircle and joined his left. Gojo Satoru breathed out softly, light flashing within his sky-blue eyes, the light of the universe itself.
Red.
Heaven and earth turned pure white.
A pure-white sky. A pure-white earth. Pure-white memories.
Jogo stood blankly at the center of that white world, head lowered.
Gojo Satoru stood with his back against Jogo's.
"Die, Cursed Spirit."
He whispered beside Jogo's ear.
Jogo did not know what to say. Its heart seemed to empty all at once.
After a long silence, a very long silence, it finally answered,
"So what if I die?"
It laughed wildly across the white field.
"Gojo Satoru! So what if I die!"
"Haven't you killed plenty of Cursed Spirits already? Mahito, Hanami, Kechizu, Eso—so what if we die? Who cares? Who is afraid? Who cowers? So what if we die? You gather in crowds, you swarm together, you make so much noise and call yourselves righteous. Look at the people behind me!"
"They were all killed by you, killed by your cursed technique, Red. Who cares? Who repents? Who will judge you? In the end, tomorrow's jujutsu association records will call it a 'Cursed Spirit attack,' and the news will call it a sudden public-safety incident. Because you are the strongest. Because you are still alive. As long as you are alive, no one dares judge you."
"And after you die, I can guarantee they will brand you a traitor. They will call you the culprit behind all of this."
"How laughable. It was not us who caused the Shibuya Incident. It was you, Gojo Satoru! If you die, you will make the perfect scapegoat."
"The strong decide everything. That is the truth of this world. Yet you let yourself be bound by this herd of slaves. You are even smug about it, pleased with yourself, believing you have realized the value of your own life. You are nothing but another slave!"
"Humans force the innocent into prostitution, then preach reform to prostitutes. You form groups through mutual interest and build nations through what you call civilization, but your civilization is only a few hundred years of history soaked in blood and plunder. Cursed Spirits have existed for a thousand years, yet you dare call yours a civilization? You preach freedom, but in your nations even your own kind cannot breathe! You sing praises to peace, yet wage war everywhere. Your so-called peace is slaughter, is war, is history written by the victors!"
"Gojo Satoru, I ask you: how dare you call yourself righteous? Humanity, I ask you: how dare you call yourselves masters of the world?"
"The only difference between you and us Cursed Spirits is that when we kill someone, we eat the corpse clean and let out a satisfied burp. When you kill someone, you bury the body with dignity and then proclaim yourselves a beacon of freedom."
"Haha... ha! Ridiculous, ridiculous! Is there anything more absurd in this world?"
"Haha..."
An incomparable light bloomed in its eyes.
"So what if I die!"
Jogo's grin split all the way to its ears. It smiled with overwhelming joy and whispered, tears glinting in its eyes,
"I have never cared whether, ten thousand years from now, the one laughing wildly on the wasteland is me."
The white world shattered.
Jogo turned to ash little by little in front of him.
Gojo Satoru stood in silence. Before him stretched a deep ravine.
Section 125.
One corner of the fifth underground level had been forcibly erased. Just as Jogo had said, Gojo Satoru had only protected the crowd behind him. In front of him, within the area covered by Red,
everyone had died.
Gojo Satoru pulled his blindfold back over his eyes. He lowered his head, and his shoulders trembled once.
Then he raised it again. The uncovered half of his face wore his usual carefree grin.
He scratched his head, lifted a foot, turned around, and swept his gaze across the area. Then he suddenly noticed a small cube in the lower-right corner.
A cube covered in eyes.
"Prison Realm."
"Gate."
"Open."
The tiny cube rapidly expanded into a black gate with a gigantic eye at its center.
It stared at Gojo Satoru.
"Hey, Satoru."
A familiar yet unfamiliar voice suddenly came from behind him.
Gojo Satoru instinctively turned around and saw Geto Suguru's languid smile.
Even though Kira Nanami had already told him Geto Suguru existed, even though he had prepared himself for this reunion, in that instant—precisely that instant—memories of the past still rose uncontrollably in his mind.
Those full three years of youth he had spent with Geto Suguru.
The condition for using the Prison Realm was to make Gojo Satoru remain within a four-meter radius of it for one minute. But that minute referred to time inside Gojo Satoru's mind, and the instant he saw Geto Suguru,
three years passed in his mind.
The Prison Realm split into fragments in an instant. Hands reached from every fragment and bound Gojo Satoru, trying to drag him into the abyss.
"Who are you? Who the hell are you?! I clearly killed you with my own hands... The information from my Six Eyes tells me you are Geto Suguru, but my soul denies everything in front of me. Who are you?!"
"Ah..."
"Damn it."
Geto Suguru's smile grew more delighted. He pulled open the seam across his forehead, and half his skull flipped upward, revealing a writhing brain inside. A mouth sat in the center of that brain.
"How did you notice?"
"I was having so much fun. Playing house, pretending I'm your best friend! Gojo-san!"
"I inherited all of Geto Suguru's memories and cursed techniques, but all I can say is that those memories are real. They really are."
The mouth in the brain opened and spoke happily.
"Disgusting. Friendship and all that."
"It's revolting."
"Heh..."
Gojo Satoru raised his eyelids and looked at him.
"You think everything will be fine once you seal me...? Don't forget."
Gojo Satoru glared fiercely into Kenjaku's eyes.
"Who nearly killed you before?"
"Kira Nanami... but I don't feel anything compelling about him."
"He's ordinary. He suppresses his true nature."
Kenjaku lowered his eyes.
"The strangest shikigami in history. A human more curse-like than a Curse. Sukuna's second vessel. The last master of Amber Mansion..."
He raised his head and smiled mockingly, his eyes full of derision.
"Unfortunately, he can't even save himself."
"He can't save anyone."
—
"Is that so?"
A calm voice sounded from behind him.
"Yeah."
Kenjaku turned to look at him and closed the Prison Realm.
Gojo Satoru was swallowed by darkness.
"Yeah."
"I'm in a hurry to get off work."