Just as Jogo managed to reorient himself after being blasted through the ceiling, shaking off the disorientation, his opponent was suddenly there again. Madara appeared before him in a blur, that unnerving smile back on his face, his red eyes glowing intensely in the dim light of the damaged station.
Before Jogo could even register the threat or attempt a counter, Madara's fist smashed into his head with brutal force.
The world became a high-speed tumble of concrete and metal as Jogo was driven downwards like a meteor, crashing through floor after floor of the building beneath them.
He finally slammed onto the ground level amidst a cloud of dust and debris, his head a completely mangled ruin.
But Jogo was a Special Grade curse. Even with his head crushed, he was still conscious, trying to make sense of the wreckage around him. Then, he saw the figure walking calmly towards him through the dust, kicking aside chunks of rubble.
"Hmmm," Madara's voice echoed slightly. "You were so confident you'd kill me just moments ago. Now, you're not even making threats?" He paused, peering down at Jogo's ruined face.
"Ah, apologies. I didn't realize your face was such a… filthy mess right now. Hard to talk like that, I imagine? Hahahaha…" The taunt dripped with condescending amusement.
Agony and pure rage surged through Jogo. His crushed skull and face began to rapidly knit back together, flesh and bone reforming at an unnatural speed the power of Reverse Cursed Technique mending the catastrophic damage.
"Yyyyyyyoooooooouuuuuuu… BASTARDDDDDDD!" Jogo shrieked, his voice distorted by fury as his mouth reformed. "I'LL BURN YOU TO ASHES!" The volcano on his head erupted violently, spewing heat and smoke as he instantly launched another swarm of Ember Insects straight at Madara.
Madara could have dodged. Easily. But he didn't even twitch. He simply stood there, allowing the screeching insects to slam into him.
They pierced his armor and flesh, then detonated in a series of fiery explosions that completely obliterated Madara's upper body, scattering smoldering pieces everywhere.
Jogo felt a grim satisfaction for a split second, seeing his enemy blown apart. But his momentary relief curdled instantly into disbelief and frustration.
The scattered pieces turned into fluttering, paper-like ash that then bizarrely flew back together.
Dust and debris reformed, knitting seamlessly until Madara stood there again, completely unharmed, looking exactly as he had before the attack, dusting off his shoulder nonchalantly.
"Tsk… This annoying trick again!" Jogo spat, utterly infuriated. "Fine! Then I'll burn you again! And again! And AGAIN! Until there's NOTHING LEFT for you to reform from!"
Jogo unleashed his fury. Streams of molten lava shot from his hands, engulfing Madara. Ember Insects detonated against him point-blank. Powerful blasts of pure heat slammed into him.
Again and again, Madara's body was blown apart, burned to cinders, reduced to fragments… only to reform perfectly moments later, the strange paper-like regeneration knitting him back together flawlessly each time.
Jogo poured attack after attack onto him, a relentless barrage of fiery destruction.
...
…..
….
…
..
.
After dozens of seemingly lethal attacks, each followed by that impossible regeneration, Jogo finally stopped, panting slightly, staring at the unharmed Madara with wide, bewildered eyes.
"What… What in the hell are you?" Jogo demanded, his voice laced with confusion and a hint of fear. "You're not human, are you? But you're definitely not a sorcerer either! What are you?!"
Madara tilted his head slightly, a calm, almost pitying look on his face. "Well… I am human. Or, I was. Just a bit… different now." He took a slow step towards Jogo.
"And as for why you can't kill me? The reason is quite simple." He paused, letting the word hang in the air. "You are far too… WEAK."
He continued his slow advance. "Honestly, I'm getting bored now. I even let you hit me freely, gave you every chance to land a killing blow. And yet, here I stand, exactly the same as before."
Jogo instinctively took a step back, then another. His mind reeled. He couldn't comprehend it. Dodging attacks was one thing, but being blown to pieces repeatedly and just… coming back? How? What kind of technique allowed that? He'd used almost everything in his arsenal except his strongest moves. Those were his only hope now.
But hearing that word "WEAK" snapped Jogo out of his fear-induced stupor. The insult ignited his pride and fury anew. An overwhelming wave of killing intent surged from him, pressing down on the surroundings. "I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!" he roared, planting his feet firmly. "I SWEAR IT! THIS TIME, YOU BASTARD!"
Jogo stopped retreating and brought his hands together, forming a specific, complex hand sign. The volcano on his head glowed with intense heat, and a terrifying, manic grin spread across his face.
Seeing this shift, the raw power gathering around Jogo, Madara's own expression changed. His bored look vanished, replaced by a fierce, battle-hungry smile that mirrored Jogo's intensity. This was more like it.
"YES!" Madara shouted back, his voice filled with anticipation. "Show me everything you've got, you filthy cursed spirit! Let's truly DANCE!"
Ignoring Madara's taunt, focusing all his energy, Jogo uttered the two words that warped reality itself:
"Ryōiki Tenkai!" (Domain Expansion!)
The surrounding space warped around Madara in an instant. Reality dissolved into pure blackness, spreading outwards rapidly to engulf him.
Through his Mangekyo Sharingan, he saw the boundary of the technique expanding, could have easily gauged its range and stepped outside before it fully formed. But he chose not to.
He stood his ground, curious to experience this "Domain Expansion" firsthand.
Why wouldn't he? He possessed an indestructible, immortal body fueled by limitless chakra. His only real complaint about this reanimated state was the numbness.
Not emotional numbness, but the physical kind. He couldn't feel the thrill of battle, the rush of adrenaline, the satisfying ache of exertion.
All sensations were dulled, muted. It was a side effect of the Edo Tensei, a technique created by the man he despised above all others, Tobirama Senju the Second Hokage. The thought alone brought a familiar surge of hatred.
Madara remained perfectly still as the world reformed around him. The oppressive blackness gave way to a hellish landscape.
He stood on jagged volcanic rock surrounded by rivers and pools of bubbling, incandescent lava. The air itself shimmered with intense heat. This was Jogo's inner world made real.
"Here," Jogo's voice echoed, filled with manic confidence and amplified power within his Domain. "You can't dodge my attacks anymore! Don't even think about getting out of here unharmed!"
Madara simply folded his arms across his chest, a calm smile on his face despite the lethal environment.
"I'm counting on that," he replied easily. "Show me what you've truly got, cursed spirit. Show me the full extent of your power. No holding back this time." He paused, his smile fading slightly, his tone becoming colder.
"But understand this: this is your lastchance. You've been… mildly interesting so far. But your constant shouting and tantrums are getting tiresome, like a child with anger issues. Come at me with everything you have, because after this… there won't be a next time for you."
Jogo's triumphant smile vanished, replaced by pure fury at Madara's continued arrogance. Veins bulged violently on his forehead.
"You said you were immortal, didn't you?!" Jogo roared, channeling the power of his Domain. "Let's test that theory! Let's see if that immortal body can rise from these ashes!"
With a wave of his hand, dozens of sharp, lava-coated spikes erupted from the surrounding rocks, shooting towards Madara from all directions at incredible speed.
Simultaneously, blasts of concentrated fire and molten rock rained down from the Domain's ceiling.
Madara watched the onslaught approach, his Mangekyo Sharingan easily tracking every projectile.
He didn't erect his Susanoo, nor did he exert much effort. He simply wanted to observe, to analyze the effects of the Domain.
He sidestepped a lava spike by mere inches, tilted his head to avoid a blast of fire, hopped slightly over a wave of molten rock. He made it look effortless, barely moving, yet avoiding every single attack perfectly.
He noticed the difference immediately. Inside the Domain, Jogo's attacks were undeniably faster, stronger, more numerous.
The guaranteed-hit effect meant dodging required precise, minimal movements rather than large evasive maneuvers. It was a noticeable buff.
'But,' Madara concluded internally, 'still fundamentally weak.' What truly fascinated him was the technique itself creating this separate dimension, trapping opponents within it, and imposing the user's rules and environment.
A powerful barrier technique, highly effective against equals or weaker foes, but likely useless against someone overwhelmingly stronger or who knew how to counter it.
The heat, intense enough to melt ordinary humans instantly, meant nothing to Madara's reanimated body. He felt no discomfort, only the persistent, irritating numbness of his undead state.
'I need to find a way out of this body eventually,' he thought, frustration flickering within him.
'This lack of feeling dulls everything.'
He had ideas, potential paths back to true life, but they required time, planning, and more information about this world. Fortunately, time was something this immortal body granted him in abundance.
After letting Jogo bombard him for several more seconds, dodging effortlessly while gathering all the data he needed, Madara decided the fight had gone on long enough.
It had been entertaining, a welcome change after decades spent waiting in darkness, but the entertainment value was fading.
"So," Madara called out, easily avoiding another barrage of attacks. "This is your final resistance? Your ultimate power?" He sounded unimpressed.
"The environmental boost and guaranteed hits are somewhat novel, I'll admit. But if this is all your technique offers, it's simply not enough to defeat me."
He prepared to end it, perhaps by shattering the Domain from within using his own power. But just as he gathered his resolve, something unexpected happened outside the Domain.
CRACK!
A sound like breaking glass echoed through the fiery dimension. A large, purple, ethereal sword blade suddenly pierced through the Domain's ceiling from the outside, shattering the reality of the volcanic landscape. The crack spread rapidly as the Susanoo blade sliced downwards, tearing open the fabric of the Domain.
In seconds, the hellish scenery dissolved, replaced by the familiar sight of the damaged subway station. The Domain collapsed.
Jogo stared in utter disbelief. Not only had his guaranteed hits failed to land on Madara (a phenomenon he couldn't comprehend), but his Domain, his ultimate move, had just been shattered from the outside.
He looked over and saw twoMadaras. One standing calmly before him, and another identical figure nearby, surrounded by residual purple energy, the source of the giant sword that had just broken his Domain.
'Why didn't the sure-hit work on him?!' Jogo thought frantically, cold sweat beading on his forehead despite the residual heat.
He didn't understand. How could someone just ignore a Domain's fundamental rule? And now there were two of them?
….
A/N: As intended, Jogo in this story doesn't know that Domain sure-hit effects fail against targets with zero cursed energy, like those with Heavenly Restrictions or, in this unique case, Madara's reanimated body which lacks cursed energy but possesses chakra.
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