The ground was already fractured, the skyline gone—nothing but broken steel and dust clouds swirling in the aftermath of chaos. But now, the air itself turned hostile.
Gojo stopped smiling.
The glimmer in his eyes dimmed into cold calculation.
The battlefield fell still. Mahoraga's spinning wheel slowed. Agito snarled but halted. Even Sukuna—who hovered with crossed arms—tilted his head curiously.
Then, Gojo rose.
He levitated mid-air, bathed in a blinding aura of pure cursed energy that distorted reality itself.
His voice cut through the silence like a blade:
"I'm done being the nice guy."
With a snap of his fingers, the atmosphere detonated.
A shockwave blasted outward, sending Mahoraga tumbling back, Agito crashing into a cracked highway, and Sukuna bracing against the rippling tide of cursed power.
Then—
Boom.
Gojo blitzed forward.
He rammed his fist into Mahoraga's chest, collapsing the shikigami into a crater. The wheel spun—adapted—but Gojo didn't stop. His palms glowed with reversed cursed energy, and he threw a second punch that split Mahoraga's body in half before it quickly regenerated again.
Agito tried leaping from behind, but Gojo teleported inches away and blasted it in the face with a Hollow Purple-infused palm strike, turning the upper half of its body into cursed ash.
Sukuna intervened, his fingers tracing sharp signs to unleash a barrage of flame slashes—but Gojo raised one finger.
"Reversal: Red."
The explosion sent Sukuna flying into the air, bouncing across the debris like a ragdoll.
And still, Gojo continued.
He warped space again, appearing mid-air behind Mahoraga, slamming both palms into its skull, pressing it into the ground—
"How the hell do you adapt so easily?" Gojo muttered with a breathless chuckle.
He raised a hand high, charging up energy until it hummed like a star.
"Let's test if you can adapt to Utahime!"
The absurdity of the statement echoed as a deafening silence followed.
Elsewhere, Utahime was watching through the cursed feed with the others, blinking in complete confusion.
"…What did I do?" she mumbled.
Back in Shinjuku, Sukuna had finally recovered and screamed, "STOP MAKING DUMB JOKES MID-BATTLE, GOJO!"
Gojo spun mid-air, raising a hand as if apologizing.
"I'll try. But I can't promise anything."
Then he descended like a meteor, crashing between all three opponents and releasing an omnidirectional Blue implosion that pulled them in before detonating outward with Red.
The collision of Blue and Red created an unstable rift—
Hollow Purple.
A brilliant beam erupted, vaporizing buildings in its path and tearing the entire city block apart.
Mahoraga's wheel spun furiously—adapting, barely surviving.
Agito, already mangled, was reduced to scraps of cursed tissue.
Sukuna barely shielded himself, his face bloody, his cloak torn, panting heavily.
Gojo hovered above, cloak billowing, eyes alight with power.
"I told you," he said with a soft, terrifying grin,
"I don't need a plan—
—I AM the plan."