How?
That was the only word that pulsed through Hanami's fading thoughts.
How could Mahito's domain have overwhelmed hers so completely?
She had years of refinement behind her domain. Her cursed technique was deeply interwoven with her being, her soul cultivated over time. She had walked with Kenjaku for what felt like an age. She had fought sorcerers, seen death, grown stronger, and endured.
And yet... she was helpless now.
A vine cracked beneath her foot. It no longer responded to her will. The trees had stopped whispering. The petals had frozen in mid-air. All the natural weight of her cursed domain had been stripped away, peeled like skin.
Her paradise was gone. Swallowed.
Swallowed by something raw and terrible.
The grotesque architecture of Mahito's domain stretched far beyond what logic should allow. Corridors of exposed ribs, ossified marrow like cathedral columns. Veins pulsed along the ceiling, casting a sickly glow. Every surface, every inch of it, breathed with cursed energy not unlike a living organism.
But it was not the technique that horrified Hanami. It was the presence.
The oppressive, unrelenting pressure of Mahito's soul.
It sat above her like a hand over a flame, snuffing her out with calm, cruel patience.
And Mahito?
He simply stood at the heart of it all. Silent.
No arms raised. No technique deployed. No smug commentary.
Just... understanding.
A perfect stillness, as if the domain itself had no need for movement. It was already complete.
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Mahito looked around.
He watched Hanami's form begin to bend under the weight of his world, and yet, his thoughts weren't focused on the fight. Not truly.
Instead, they lingered on a single, quiet revelation.
He had always believed that a Domain Expansion was a refinement of technique. Only those who had mastered their cursed technique could manifest a domain of worth.
That was what his recollection told him. What he remembered learning from watching the Jujutsu World on a screen.
But now? He knew that was only half the truth.
A domain was not simply an extension of a technique.
It was the soul, laid bare. Refined. Shaped.
And while a cursed technique gave it form, it was not what gave it strength.
What gave it power was something else entirely.
Identity.
Conviction.
The self.
That was why Gojo's domain was overwhelming. Not just because of the Limitless. But because Gojo Satoru believed in himself as the honoured one. Because he was so assured in his view of the world that even reality bent around it.
That was why Sukuna's domain held such cruel artistry. Why he could perform such divine feats so casually... Because Sukuna saw himself as divine. His authority absolute. His soul unquestionable.
And that was why Mahito's domain, Cursed Genesis, had now eclipsed anything that his original counterpart had imagined possible.
Because he had stopped pretending.
He had abandoned the masks, the games, the flattery. No more pretending around Kenjaku or trying to play small tricks. No more playing at being young or new or charming.
He had stepped fully into what he was.
And the domain answered.
The shape of his world no longer mimicked what he had seen in others. It no longer bent to fear or admiration. It followed his soul.
His understanding.
And in the Jujutsu World, the soul was everything.
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Yuji's breath hitched.
It wasn't the visuals of the domain that shook him. It wasn't the eerie atmosphere or the grotesque surroundings.
It was what he felt.
His knees buckled for just a moment. His heartbeat slowed, as if his own body was no longer sure it needed to keep going.
He felt bare. Stripped.
As if someone had peeled his thoughts from his skull and pinned them to the wall.
Todo grunted beside him, jaw clenched tight, beads of sweat trailing down his temple.
"I don't like this," he muttered.
Nanami said nothing. His grip on the hilt of his blade was white-knuckled. He could barely keep his stance.
The domain wasn't hurting them. Not physically. But they all knew.
They were within Mahito's world now. They existed within his grasp.
Even Todo's Simple Domain, refined to precision, felt like a candle flickering in a storm.
"It feels," Nanami finally said, "as if my soul has been bared before the world."
Yuji nodded. "He's not even looking at us."
That was the worst part.
Mahito wasn't concerned about them. They were irrelevant here.
They were not even there to witness the battle of two Special Grade Curses... They were looking at an execution.
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Hanami's form bent further, branches cracking, bark peeling. She tried to gather cursed energy, to call it from the roots, from the air, from the vestiges of her once-beautiful paradise.
But nothing answered.
Her domain had not been shattered. It had been overwritten.
Unmade.
Mahito stepped forward once, still calm. His voice came low, thoughtful.
"You never thought about it, did you? Why some people are stronger than others, even when their techniques are the same?"
Hanami didn't answer. She couldn't move, her entire body stuck in place, her soul held forcefully within Mahito's domain.
"Gojo's Six Eyes. Limitless. They're powerful, yes. But what if someone else was born with them? Would they be the strongest, too?"
His footfall echoed in the chamber of bone.
"No. Because it's not the eyes that make him strong. It's him."
"You think my domain is stronger because I understand my technique better than you do? That's not it."
"It's because I understand myself better."
The walls pulsed. The ceiling groaned.
And in that moment, Hanami's limbs fell limp. Her roots cracked.
Her soul flickered.
Mahito raised one hand. Not to strike. Not to attack. Just to feel.
His fingers danced slightly in the air, then curled.
Hanami's body jerked once.
Her soul was caught; it had been from the start. There was no escape.
Within his domain, her soul was no longer hers to hold.
"You chose to die for a plan that wasn't yours. A promise for a world that shouldn't interest you... You were a prisoner of someone else's dream."
Mahito's head tilted slightly.
"You should have gone with your gut, grown and crept your roots into humanity indiscrimately, consumed more and more, until you reached the heights of Gojo Satoru himself... Alas-"
He exhaled once, as if letting something go.
Then closed his hand.
Hanami's form dissolved into nothing.
No explosion. No screaming. No triumphant declaration of death.
Just silence, as her soul unwound at Mahito's command and faded like morning fog.
She had no final words. No plea or curse to put on the world.
Only the quiet recognition that she had been wrong, and it was too late to change it.
The moment lingered. Yuji, Todo, and Nanami stood still.
Mahito didn't move either. He didn't even blink.
He felt it.
Something watching.
Something awake.
He turned, not toward the others, but toward the centre of his domain. His smile didn't falter.
The pressure rose. Not from the domain, but from within Yuji's very soul, where another one, more ancient, was still imprisoned.
Mahito saw it now... He saw him.
Not with his eyes. But with his soul.
A figure sat on a throne of jagged human bones, with authority unseen but undeniable, pulsed at the very edge of Mahito's awareness.
Mahito took a step forward without any fear or trepidation, a calm smile nestled on his face.
Sukuna.
Not in the flesh, but in the spirit. A mere vision of the King of Curses, only present because Yuji's soul was bared in his domain.
Mahito was not the same as his original counterpart; he could resist the pull and completely ignore Sukuna's presence.
He was, after all, merely a fragment of the King of Curses... Two or three fingers at best.
But Mahito saw the situation as an opportunity.
'Well... It's as good a time as any to speak with the 'King' himself~'