Roy's head throbbed like someone had cracked open his skull and poured buzzing bees inside.
His eyes fluttered open to a dim, wavering orange light.
For a moment, he thought he was back under his bridge, a dream, maybe, some bad soup hallucination.
But the air was different.
Thick. Heavy. The kind of air that tasted of incense, blood, and curses.
He sat up slowly, the wooden floor creaking under him.
He wasn't in his house anymore.
It was… a shrine? No — something closer to a temple gone wrong.
Paper talismans hung in strips across the walls, smeared with dark ink that pulsed faintly, like veins.
Cursed spirits, dozens of them, floated lazily around the ceiling like grotesque moths circling a flame.
Their eyes were all fixed on him.
A voice cut through the silence.
Calm.
Smooth.
Almost amused.
"Awake already? That's good. I was worried I might've hit you too hard."
Roy stiffened, forcing himself to his feet.
And there he was.
The man he recognized instantly.
The long dark hair tied back, the priest like robes, that collected, almost aristocratic air.
Suguru Geto.
Roy's heart skipped.
He'd only ever seen this man in another world until recently, in manga panels and anime episodes, but now he was flesh and blood, standing just meters away.
"…You,"
Roy whispered, his throat tight.
Geto smiled faintly, tilting his head like a teacher humoring a curious child.
Roy instinctively shifted into a defensive stance, cursed energy buzzing in his hands, ready to throw up an illusion and dash out with Threadstep.
But the moment he thought it, half a dozen curses dropped from the ceiling, snarling, pressing closer like trained guard dogs.
Geto didn't even move.
His voice remained casual, almost gentle.
"I wouldn't, if I were you. They won't kill you… unless I say so. And believe me, you don't want to find out what their claws feel like."
Roy froze, his stomach tightening.
He hated it.
Hated how powerless it made him feel.
Geto walked closer, the talismans shifting as though bowing to his presence.
He crouched down so he was eye level with Roy.
"Relax. I'm not your enemy, not unless you make me one. In fact…"
He tapped Roy lightly on the chest with one finger.
A strange warmth pulsed through Roy's sternum, sinking down into his soul.
"…I might be the only one who truly understands what you are."
Roy's breath caught.
He didn't know what Geto did to him.
"…What do you want from me?"
Roy asked, voice cracking despite himself.
Geto's smile widened.
"Simple. To guide you. You're raw talent, Roy Viltorium. A stray with power brimming out of him, playing pretend under Gojo's wing. But Gojo doesn't teach. He coddles. He jokes. He hides the world from you. I won't."
He stood again, his tone hardening ever so slightly.
"I'll show you what you can become. I'll strip away the lies, the sentiment, the weakness. And when that's done… you'll thank me. Because you'll never look back at cardboard boxes and lonely bridges again."
Roy clenched his fists, his whole body screaming at him to run.
To throw everything he had at Geto and claw his way out.
But he didn't move.
Couldn't.
The curses loomed, and deep down he knew, he wasn't ready.
So instead, he forced a laugh.
A shaky, golden retriever grin plastered across his face.
"Heh. Guess I don't have much of a choice, huh?"
Geto studied him, and for just a second, the smile faltered into something unreadable.
"Choice is an illusion, Roy. You'll learn that soon enough."
With a casual wave of his hand, the curses slithered back into the shadows, their snarls dying down.
Geto gestured toward the darkened hall leading deeper into the shrine.
"Come. You're staying with me now. Think of it as… an apprenticeship."
Roy followed, each step heavy, his eyes darting around the cursed talismans and the flickering shadows.
Inside, his mind was screaming a single thought, looping again and again like a broken record.
'I'm in way over my head.'