The room was pitch black.
No walls. No ceiling. No floor that could be touched or measured. Only endless shadow.
And within it, Mahito sat cross-legged, smiling. That smile, bright, boyish, yet unnerving, glimmered faintly, as though it alone illuminated the void.
He wasn't wholly here. This was but a fragment of him, a sliver of consciousness seated in stillness. His awareness stretched elsewhere, carried to another self. His clone, ceaselessly at work.
That other Mahito toiled without complaint, hands molding, shaping, bending the discarded remains of souls. Flesh and essence were rewoven into forms that twitched and stirred, soldiers who would never question him.
His army grew steadily. A patient labor, meticulous, tedious. He had lost plenty of numbers during Kenjaku's escape, but as strong as his soldiers were, they were also expendable.
That was what made them even more dangerous. They were, at the end of the day, souls that Mahito could burn to meet his ends.
Thankfully, after such a disaster, there was a surplus of suicides and crimes in the area, which helped him replenish his reserves.
Suicides went without saying; people losing loved ones just couldn't seem to keep going in life.
While criminals took advantage of the chaos, causing more crime, Mahito's clone was always there to collect the victims.
Once criminals outweighed their usefulness, they too would be 'invited' to join Mahito's growing army.
In only one week, he had already recouped his losses and even expanded his army further.
The strongest curse hummed to himself, eyelids half-lowered.
'It has been a week now. A week since Shibuya collapsed into ruin. A week since Gojo was sealed. And everything… is unfolding quite nicely.'
He chuckled under his breath, the sound bright against the stillness.
Principal Yaga remained unscathed, his position intact. Yuji, too, was protected from execution. Both shielded by Mahito's intervention, both still standing in the shadow of his smile.
'The others might not see it yet. But I am already the one holding their fragile little world together.'
A pulse of energy at the edge of his awareness drew his thoughts elsewhere. A ripple across the water of his mind.
Yuta Okkotsu.
The name returned to him with no weight. A child branded as Gojo's successor, whispered about as the next great hope of jujutsu society.
He was returning to Japan, but the familiar landscape he had grown accustomed to was no longer. How he would take to Mahito's leadership was yet to be seen.
Mahito tilted his head, amusement curling his lips wider.
"Okkotsu, hm? He's… no Gojo. Certainly no Sukuna. A pale reflection of strength. A candle constantly compared to bonfires."
He smiled without malice, only mild curiosity. If Okkotsu returned, let him. The boy was neither rival nor threat. A passing breeze. Nothing more.
What truly mattered was this feeling surging through him. For the first time since his birth, he had what he craved most.
Freedom.
Unfettered. Unshackled. No metaphorical leash tugged by other hands, no restrictions dictating his choices. Every path before him lay open, limitless.
But even in freedom, shadows lingered.
Gojo would return.
Mahito's grin sharpened, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"I am his equal now."
The words rang absolute, echoing through the darkness.
"Equal to Sukuna at his full strength. Equal to Gojo at his prime. They are not obstacles, they are opportunities. Rungs on the ladder. Rivals who will push me further, higher."
The thought thrilled him. He did not intend to bar Sukuna's ascent, nor would he scheme endlessly to prevent Gojo's return. Both were flames. And flames, after all, were fuel.
As for the elders…
Mahito's laughter softened into a hum, almost pitying.
"The elders would never have agreed to let me climb that ladder... They would rather pull it out from under others~ Too bad they no longer get a say in the matter."
The darkness shifted. Slowly, shapes bled into view. Broken walls. Cracked pillars slick with blood. The iron tang of slaughter filled the air.
Bodies littered the floor. Almost a dozen of them, arranged like offerings. Old men of varying ages, their faces contorted in horror, their pristine robes torn and stained scarlet. The flags and all sigils of their authority lay ripped apart beside them, useless trinkets now.
Mahito rose gracefully to his feet, spreading his arms in mock welcome.
"I fail to understand why Gojo never did this himself," he mused, his voice light. "These decrepit fossils… they only ever knew how to wield power against the weak, while trembling before the strong."
He stepped lightly between corpses, his hands tucked behind his back, like a teacher strolling a classroom. His smile was sharp, yet strangely serene.
"As the strongest, I no longer need to waste time catering to them. Their judgments, their condemnations… meaningless."
The silence was absolute, save for his laughter echoing off the ruined walls.
'How much larger can I grow?''How much stronger can I become?'
The thoughts throbbed in his mind like a second heartbeat. His army would rise. His dominion would spread.
'Time to have a small talk with Tengen~ Don't remember much about her, but it hardly matters~'
After all, this was his world now.
_
_
_
Light shone brightly in that quiet room, clean and composed. A low table stood at the center, two teacups steaming faintly atop it.
Yuki Tsukumo leaned forward, her arms folded, her expression taut.
Opposite her, Mei Mei swirled her tea with absent ease, her lips curled faintly in amusement.
"…You've dealt with him directly," Yuki said, voice edged with unease. "So tell me. What do you think he's really planning?"
Mei Mei's laugh was soft, like coins chiming. "Planning? My dear, he already has. Long before Shibuya. Thanks to him, I made quite a fortune before the dust had even settled. And after? The profits only multiplied."
Her eyes gleamed, sly. "Entire warehouses. Apartment blocks. All were purchased under his name. He doesn't spend idly... Even better, all buildings he purchased were untouched during the disaster, how quaint."
Yuki frowned, brows pinching. "Facilities? Real estate? What could a curse possibly need with that?"
Mei Mei tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Storage. Secrecy. Influence. Who can say? Though…" Her smile curved sharply. "Perhaps he intends to become something even viler than a curse."
Yuki's eyes narrowed. "…A landlord?"
There was a beat of silence before Mei Mei laughed, a rich, throaty chuckle that filled the room. Yuki rolled her eyes but smirked despite herself.
The humor passed quickly, replaced by heavy quiet.
"…You trust him?" Yuki asked finally.
Mei Mei's smile dimmed, though it did not fade entirely. "I trust in profit. And in his ability to create it. Beyond that? He is what he is. Dangerous. Useful. Unpredictable, in his own way."
Yuki's gaze dropped to her untouched tea. A curse leading them, reshaping their system under their noses. The thought twisted in her stomach.
The sliding door crashed open.
Principal Yaga stormed in, his breath ragged, his face pale with strain. His voice shook the walls.
"Mahito… has slaughtered the Elders!"
The cups rattled on the table. Mei Mei's smile froze. Yuki straightened, her unease calcifying into dread.
The world had shifted again.