The darkness stretched endlessly around Roy, a suffocating silence broken only by the echo of his own footsteps.
He kept walking, his sneakers tapping softly against nothingness, his mind filled with questions.
"Where the hell… am I?"
The void didn't answer.
For a long while, it felt as if he were trapped in a dream, one of those hazy ones where no matter how far you walked, the scenery never changed.
But then, without any warning, something appeared before him.
A tree.
Its bark was pale white, smooth yet jagged in places, almost as though it were carved from bone.
From its branches bloomed thousands of flowers, petals of blinding neon pink, glowing faintly in the void like lanterns on a midnight lake.
The blossoms swayed gently even though there was no wind.
Roy's eyes widened.
The sight was otherworldly, terrifying… but also breathtaking.
He took a step closer, craning his neck upward.
The tree stretched higher and higher, endlessly, until it vanished into the black sky above.
As he examined it, one of the blossoms drifted loose, spiraling down like a snowflake.
It landed softly on his head before sliding into his palm.
It pulsed faintly with light.
Roy held it up and peered inside.
His breath caught.
The petal wasn't just a petal, it was a window.
Tiny fragments shimmered within, like shards of glass reflecting countless faces.
Faces that were his… but not his.
Some were smiling, others screaming.
Some old, others young.
His hair was different, his eyes changed, but the core… the soul… felt the same.
"What… is this…?" he whispered.
Before he could process, the blossom glowed brighter, searing pink, until it cracked apart like fragile glass.
The fragments scattered, dissolving into streams of light that sank into his chest.
Roy gasped.
His body tensed as if lightning surged through his veins.
And then, he saw.
He wasn't Roy anymore.
He was someone else.
A boy who grew up laughing mischievously, pulling pranks on neighbors with sleight of hand that became illusions.
A trickster, someone who bent the senses of others with terrifying ease.
He could weave lies into reality, make people see what wasn't there, hear words never spoken.
And he was good at it, brilliant at it.
Roy's mind was consumed.
He relived moments, being born, the warmth of a mother's touch, the rough laughter of a grandfather tossing a baseball, the calm afternoons fishing with his father.
Memories not his, yet they felt real enough to hurt.
His head throbbed violently.
The visions blurred into static.
Pain stabbed through his skull like hot needles.
"Gahhh—!"
Roy screamed, clutching his temples.
His knees buckled as he collapsed.
And then, he was back.
The endless void.
The tree.
The petal, now whole again, resting gently in his hand as though nothing had happened.
His breathing was ragged, his skin damp with sweat.
He stared at the blossom in silence before letting out a shaky laugh.
"…What the hell was that?"
Unsure what to do, he let the petal slip from his fingers.
It drifted gently back toward the tree, rejoining the countless blossoms above.
Roy exhaled.
"…Guess that means it's not going anywhere."
He turned away, deciding it was time to leave.
When he opened his eyes, the world rushed back, the dimly lit room, the seals glowing faintly along the walls.
And in front of him stood Gojo, arms folded, his ever present grin tugging at his lips.
"So,"
Gojo said, tilting his head,
"finally remembered what your technique is?"
Roy blinked, still trying to steady his breathing.
"…Kinda."
He explained everything, the tree, the petals, the way he had lived another life.
How he felt the warmth of another family, how he had been someone else entirely, someone who wielded illusions like second nature.
His words stumbled over themselves, but the sincerity was clear.
Gojo listened quietly, one eyebrow raised.
When Roy finished, Gojo's grin widened.
"Sounds fun. Wanna give me a demo?"
Roy hesitated, then nodded.
"…Alright. Let's try."
He took a deep breath, focusing.
For a second, nothing seemed to happen.
But then Gojo heard something, his name.
"…Gojo."
The voice came from behind him.
Gojo turned, and froze.
The room was upside down. The floor was above his head, the ceiling beneath his feet.
And standing casually on that inverted ground was Roy, smiling like nothing was wrong.
But Roy hadn't spoken. His lips hadn't moved.
Gojo's six eyes glimmered faintly, recognizing the distortion.
A bark of laughter erupted from his throat.
"Ohhh! I get it now. You're an illusionist!"
Roy tilted his head innocently.
"…Huh?"
"How funny!"
Gojo clapped his hands, still laughing.
"This is gonna be fun. You're the kind of sorcerer who makes life interesting."
Roy dropped the illusion, the room snapping back to normal.
He scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed.
"I, uh… guess that's what my technique is then."
Gojo smirked, his grin softening into something almost approving.
"That's enough for today. Let's go report to Yaga. Oh, and—"
He squinted slightly, sensing it clearly.
'His cursed energy increased. Not by much, just a sliver more—but enough to notice.'
"…Interesting,"
Gojo muttered under his breath, before returning to his usual upbeat tone.
"C'mon, kid. We've got a long walk back."
Together, they left the room, the glow of the seals fading behind them.