Satoru grinned, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. It reminded him of his fight with Toji, the large, monstrous man who had almost killed him. Toji, the man belittled and underestimated by all, had proven to be the strongest among them, capable of pushing Satoru to his very limits. That memory, that thrill, was something Satoru relished, and now, facing Kakine, he felt that same exhilaration.
The landscape around them was a chaotic mess of shattered earth and swirling debris, the air thick with tension and the acrid smell of burnt earth. Satoru's grin widened as he clashed with the boy in front of him. Kakine was a whirlwind of motion, his dark matter wings slicing through the air with deadly precision. Satoru's blue eyes sparkled with excitement, his heart pounding with the thrill of the fight.
He extended his hand, using his technique to pull Kakine towards him. The boy resisted, dispelling the pull almost immediately. The air around them began to sizzle and pop, the intense energy crackling like a storm about to break. Kakine's eyes were sharp, calculating, as he countered with a burst of dark matter, the force of his attack creating a vacuum that seemed to suck the very air from the surroundings.
Satoru felt the shift in the atmosphere, the energy building to a crescendo. He dropped his Infinity just in time, leaping back as an explosion erupted between them. The force of the blast was immense, sending shockwaves rippling through the air and tearing the ground asunder. Satoru landed gracefully, his heart still pounding from the near miss, his eyes locked onto Kakine.
'This kid is terrifying!' Satoru thought, his grin widening as he realized the full extent of what Kakine had done. The boy had somehow turned the air within his Infinity into a bomb. If Satoru hadn't instinctively dropped his Infinity and jumped away just in time, the explosion would have followed him, causing significant damage. While his Reverse Cursed Technique (RCT) could heal him, it would have given Kakine the opportunity to strike and potentially cut his head clean off.
Satoru's eyes were narrowed, still feeling the dried blood on his forehead, a stark reminder of the close call. 'This brat has experience,' he mused, his thoughts racing. 'He was probably just testing the waters, trying to learn what I could and couldn't do.'
The landscape around them bore the scars of their battle. The ground was littered with debris, craters marking the spots where their attacks had landed. The air was heavy with the scent of burnt earth and ozone, the aftermath of Kakine's explosive maneuver still lingering.
Satoru's gaze locked onto Kakine, who hovered in the air with his dark matter wings flaring out behind him. The boy's expression was one of fierce determination, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and resolve. He was no longer just a kid; he was a formidable opponent, one who had pushed Satoru to his limits and beyond.
'He's smart, adaptive, and dangerous,' Satoru thought, his admiration for the boy growing. 'He's learning and evolving with each clash, figuring out my abilities and testing his theories in real time.'
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the few remaining trees and carrying the dust and debris of their battle. The tension between them was palpable, an electric charge in the air that promised more chaos to come.
Both individuals had their powers revved to the max and just as they moved forward to clash once again, a thunderous BAM!! echoed through the field.
A shockwave erupted between them, forcing both to bolt away as a sharp ringing reverberated in their ears. Kakine's ears rang painfully as he tightened his hold on Index, his mind racing. 'What the hell was that?' he thought, his confusion evident as he scanned the area for the source of the attack. The force had been immense, unlike anything he had encountered so far. 'What kind of attack was that?!'
Likewise, Satoru, who had been on his toes, was completely taken off guard. His usually sharp senses were momentarily dulled by the unexpected impact. 'Is this another technique?' he wondered, his eyes wide with surprise. 'No… this isn't the kid.'
Kakine froze. His blood turned cold as his fingers flexed on what should have been Index's small, warm body… but instead, he felt a cold, coarse, and hard texture. Looking down at his arms, he stared numbly at the strange wooden doll that had taken the place where Index should have been.
"INDEX!?" he roared instinctively, his voice echoing through the battlefield. He flung his head around wildly, dropping the dummy onto the ground. His sharp eyes finally focused on a floating figure in the sky.
Satoru, who had heard his cry, followed his gaze. His eyes widened as he stared in bewilderment at the sight above them.
There, hovering in the air, was Kurosaki. He stood upright, his hard, cold gaze fixed on Kakine with an intensity that could cut through steel. Kurosaki's expression was stern, his jaw set in a grim line as he glared daggers at Kakine. He was standing on a strange creature, similar to Dark Angelina yet distinctly different. This creature lacked both a head and a body, instead possessing a flat form that resembled a floating carpet, albeit grotesquely thick and made of what appeared to be a form of dark, twisted flesh.
Beside Kurosaki sat Ivona, clutching an unconscious Index tightly in her arms. Ivona's eyes blazed with spite, her lips curled into a sneer as she looked down at Kakine. Her grip on the child was tight, almost possessive, as if she was daring anyone to challenge her.
Kakine's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and fury boiling within him. He felt a surge of frustration at having been outmaneuvered and outsmarted. He had been so focused on his battle with Satoru that he had completely missed the silent, stealthy approach of Kurosaki.
Satoru's mind raced as he analyzed the new player in their chaotic game. 'Who the hell is this guy?' he thought, his gaze flicking between Kurosaki, the strange creature, and Ivona holding Index. 'And how did he manage to get so close without either of us noticing?'
The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy silence hanging over the battlefield as all eyes were on the new arrivals. The atmosphere thickened, charged with the weight of unspoken threats and the potential for chaos.
Kurosaki floated above them, his presence commanding and cold, yet with an arrogance that was impossible to ignore. He sneered down at the two combatants, his tone dripping with condescension. "My apologies for the intrusion," he mocked, his voice carrying effortlessly across the battlefield. There was a chilling edge to his words, as if he held no regard for either of them. "But it was only momentary until I retrieved my possessions," he continued, dismissively waving a hand as though the situation before him was nothing more than a trivial matter, something barely worth his attention. "You may continue with your needless banter."
"KUROSAKI!!" Kakine's roar echoed through the air, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered rage. His eyes blazed with fury, a deep, simmering anger that threatened to consume him. The sight of Index in Kurosaki's grasp ignited a protective instinct within him, one that was fueled by his frustration at having been outmaneuvered. "The hell do you want with the kid?" he growled, his tone menacing, laced with the promise of violence.
For a brief moment, the older man simply stared, his expression inscrutable, before a slow, calculating smile spread across his face. "I'm afraid my objectives would be far too incomprehensible to the likes of you sorcerers," Kurosaki replied, his voice smooth and dismissive, as though he were addressing someone far beneath him. His words were designed to provoke, to belittle, and they hit their mark perfectly.
"Try me," came Satoru's voice, suddenly cutting through the tension. In a blur of motion, he appeared floating behind Kurosaki, his presence as commanding as ever. An arrogant smile tugged at his lips as he met Kurosaki's gaze, his tone dripping with confidence. "After all," he continued, reaching a hand up to slowly pull down his blindfold, revealing the piercing blue eyes beneath, "I'm not just any sorcerer."
Kurosaki let out a low chuckle, the sound almost sinister in its amusement. "You are as eccentric as the rumors paint you to be," he mused aloud, his eyes narrowing slightly as he appraised the man before him. Slowly, he turned his head, glancing at Satoru with a look that was both amused and pitying, as if he were indulging a child who didn't know any better. "But I'm afraid you've bitten off a bit more than you can chew."
And with that, Kurosaki vanished.
Satoru's eyes widened in shock. 'Teleportation!?' he thought, blinking in surprise. His six eyes hadn't even caught the movement, hadn't detected any shift or distortion in space. 'I didn't even see it coming… but he used that same unfamiliar energy!' The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Kurosaki wasn't just a typical enemy—he was something entirely different, something more dangerous than he had anticipated.
"Oi."
The single word, sharp and commanding, pulled Satoru's attention away from his thoughts and back to the teenager, who had been silent throughout the entire exchange. Kakine's gaze was intense, his eyes blazing with determination and something darker, something more primal. His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. "Let's talk."
Satoru was taken aback for a moment, studying the boy's expression. There was a fire there, a burning desire that mirrored something deep within himself. Then, slowly, a wide, deranged grin spread across his face, matching the intensity in Kakine's eyes. The madness, the thrill of the fight, the anticipation of a worthy challenge—all of it surged within him. "Well, it's about damn time," he replied, his voice carrying a tone of wild excitement.
Index hit the ground with a pained gasp, her small body crumpling under the impact. The cold, unforgiving earth scraped her palms raw, staining them with a bright red hue that contrasted sharply with the white bandages wrapped around her frail knees. Ironically, the bandages had spared her knees from further injury, but nothing could protect her from the cruelty of the man towering above her.
"Get up!" Kurosaki's voice was a harsh, venomous growl, filled with barely restrained fury. He reached down, his large, bony hand clamping around her thin arm like a vice. The grip was so tight it sent a jolt of pain through her entire body, and she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips. "This is all your fault," he snarled, his voice dripping with malice. His eyes bore into her, filled with contempt. "If only you had obeyed and done as you were told, none of this would be happening."
Index's entire body trembled, her fear paralyzing her as she stared at the ground, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze. The weight of his hatred pressed down on her like a physical force, crushing what little resolve she had left. She could feel the anger radiating off of him, the fury that seemed to consume him entirely.
With a furious snarl, Kurosaki flung her to the ground again. Her small, malnourished body landed hard, the impact sending a sharp pain through her side. She barely had time to register the pain before Ivona's hands were on her, yanking her roughly to her feet. Ivona's grip was just as harsh as Kurosaki's, her long fingers digging into Index's arm, leaving bruises in their wake.
Ivona's voice, when she spoke, was a whisper, filled with a twisted reverence as she addressed Kurosaki. "My lord," she began, her gaze never wavering from his face. The adoration in her eyes was sickening, as though she saw him as some divine being rather than the monster he truly was. "What do we do about the two sorcerers?" Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear she tried so desperately to hide.
She had witnessed the battle between Kakine and Satoru Gojo—the raw, terrifying power that both of them had displayed. The memory of it sent a shiver down her spine, a primal fear that she couldn't shake. The unassuming teenager, who had turned the entire battlefield into his playground, was far more dangerous than she had initially believed. And then there was Satoru Gojo, the man considered to be the strongest sorcerer in the modern era. The thought of those two forces of nature, once locked in combat, now possibly turning their attention towards them was enough to chill her blood.
For a moment, doubt flickered in her mind. The way she had manhandled Index—was it really the best course of action? Could it provoke these two monsters further? But then she caught herself, shaking her head slightly. How could she, even for a moment, doubt her lord? Kurosaki was a being beyond the comprehension of ordinary people. He was invincible, unmatched in power and cunning. The very thought that he could be defeated in battle was laughable… wasn't it?
But despite her attempts to reassure herself, that seed of fear had already taken root. She couldn't shake the image of Kakine and Satoru joining forces, their combined power more than enough to turn the entire village into rubble. And in the face of such a possibility, even her unwavering faith in Kurosaki wavered, if only for a brief moment.
As Ivona tightened her grip on Index, her mind raced with the implications. She couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread, one that gnawed at the edges of her resolve. The two sorcerers were not to be underestimated—especially not after what she had seen. And if they decided to come after them, if they decided to work together…
Ivona shivered, a chill running down her spine as her instincts screamed at her to flee, to get as far away from this place as possible. But she knew she couldn't. Not with Kurosaki standing there, his presence alone a constant reminder of the power he held over her, over all of them. No, she would stay by his side, no matter what. Even if it meant facing those two monsters head-on.
"So," Satoru began, his voice cutting through the quiet rubble as he casually brushed aside fallen debris and splintered planks from what remained of Kurosaki's home, "the girl has forbidden magical books in her brain that contain dangerous knowledge and spells." His tone was almost conversational, as if he were discussing the weather rather than the unsettling truth about Index's situation. He glanced at the mess around them, the remnants of what had once been a proud structure, now reduced to a chaotic heap of destruction. The older man continued to talk, his words filled with a mixture of curiosity and casual disregard, while his companion remained focused on his task.
Kakine, on the other hand, was far from interested in Satoru's rambling. His attention was laser-focused on the search, his sharp eyes scanning the wreckage for any clue that could lead him to Index's whereabouts. His movements were swift and deliberate, his mind running through a thousand possibilities as he sifted through the remains. The urgency in his actions was palpable, his determination unwavering as he tried to make sense of the chaos before him.
"And that shriveled old orange wants to get his hands on said knowledge," Satoru continued, letting out an exaggerated puff of air as if the whole situation was just another inconvenience. He picked up a piece of wood, examined it briefly, and then tossed it aside, his expression one of mild boredom.
"That could be a problem," he added with a nonchalant shrug.
"I figured as much," Kakine replied dryly, his voice clipped and devoid of any real interest in Satoru's commentary. He kept his back to the older man, his attention still fully absorbed in the search. There was something about Satoru's casual demeanor that grated on him, but he knew better than to let it distract him from the task at hand.
Satoru's eyes, hidden beneath his bandages, flicked towards the teenager. There was a curious glint in them, a spark of interest that hadn't been there before. "And how exactly do you fit in all of this?" he asked, his tone more serious now, the teasing edge gone.
Kakine froze, his hands stilling as the question hung in the air. He hadn't expected Satoru to probe into his motives, and the sudden shift in the conversation caught him off guard. He wasn't particularly worried about the fact that he was from another dimension being discovered—it wasn't exactly a secret he guarded with his life—but that didn't mean it wouldn't cause problems for him in the future. Problems he would much rather avoid.
His silence stretched on, and Satoru, sensing the internal conflict within the boy, tilted his head slightly. "I don't really have anything against ya, kid," Satoru chirped, his tone light and almost cheerful as if he hadn't just prodded at a sore spot.
Kakine still made no move to acknowledge Satoru, his thoughts spiraling. Why had he stepped in to protect Index? She was just a kid—a kid with dangerous knowledge locked away in her mind, sure, but still just a kid. He had his own goals, his own plans that didn't involve babysitting. So why had he intervened? Was it because he thought he could use her to get back home? The idea gnawed at him, but even that didn't seem like the full truth. There was something more, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Satoru watched him in silence, the usual grin slipping from his face as he studied the teenager. The shift in his demeanor was subtle, but it carried a certain gravity. "I'll help you find the kid since I have my own objectives in all this," he offered, his voice calm and steady. After a brief pause, he added, "But maybe, it might be best to… leave her to me."
There was no pity in his tone, no attempt to manipulate or persuade. He simply laid it out as if it were a matter of logic, a practical decision to be made. Satoru knew that while Kakine was strong, it was clear he had his own agenda—plans that didn't seem to include looking after a child with a mind full of forbidden knowledge.
Kakine remained silent, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling inside him. He knew Satoru was right. Logically, it made sense to let the older man take Index off his hands. Satoru belonged to this world—Index's world. He had the experience, the resources, and the power to protect her in ways Kakine might not be able to. And yet, the thought of leaving her behind, of entrusting her to someone else's care… it didn't sit right with him.
It wasn't about the burden of responsibility, nor was it about some misguided sense of duty. It was something else—something he couldn't quite articulate. Maybe it was the way she looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes, or maybe it was the realization that, like him, she was just a pawn in a much larger game. Whatever it was, it gnawed at him, making the decision far more difficult than it should have been.
Satoru seemed to sense the turmoil within Kakine, his expression softening slightly. "You're strong, kid," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "But sometimes, strength means knowing when to let go."
Kakine's jaw tightened, his fists clenching as he wrestled with the weight of Satoru's words. The logical part of him knew that Satoru was right. It would be easier, safer even, to let Index go, to let someone else take on the responsibility. But something inside him refused to let that be the end of it.
"No," Kakine finally said, his voice low but resolute. He turned to face Satoru, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. "I'm not handing her over. She stays with me."
Satoru's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, but then a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Alright," he said simply, nodding in acknowledgment of Kakine's resolve. "But just know, this isn't going to be easy."
Kakine met his gaze, his expression hardening as he replied, "Nothing in my life has ever been easy", he gazed at his rough hands, "and I never expect that to change".
Satoru had no idea how long he'd been digging through the debris. The minutes bled into each other, his hands moving instinctively as he sifted through the rubble. He alternated between using his raw strength and tapping into his Limitless techniques, manipulating the energy of blue and red simultaneously to blast away chunks of wood, stone, and metal. The strain was starting to show—not physically, but in the subtle wear on his mind. It was irritating. He wasn't used to this sort of grunt work. Normally, he'd have been able to locate them with his Six Eyes, pinpointing their positions effortlessly without having to humiliate himself by scrabbling through the wreckage like a desperate man.
But this situation was different. His Six Eyes were strained, just like the rest of him, and the disarray of Kurosaki's house seemed to scramble everything, making it impossible to get a clear read on Index or anyone else. Briefly, he glanced over at the mysterious boy, who was levitating multiple pieces of debris with an increasingly frustrated expression. The boy's anger seemed to grow with each passing minute, his usually calm and calculating demeanor replaced by something far more intense.
Worry.
If Satoru had to guess, the kid was feeling something akin to worry—perhaps even fear. It wasn't an emotion he'd often seen in others, especially not in someone as powerful as Kakine. But the way the boy's eyes darted around, the way his lips pressed into a tight line, spoke volumes. He was searching with a sense of urgency that belied the cool, detached persona he usually projected. And that worried Satoru more than anything else.
For some reason, the boy's concern for the girl, Index, resonated with Satoru on a deeper level. It reminded him of himself when he was younger—before he became the strongest, before the weight of his responsibilities made him colder, more detached. The only difference was that he had probably never been doted on as Satoru had been in his youth. The boy's power, his raw potential, must have been hidden away, suppressed, or perhaps ignored entirely. It made Satoru wonder about Kakine's past. How had someone so incredibly powerful remained hidden for so long? What had this boy been through to make him so fiercely protective of a girl he barely knew?
Just as these thoughts flitted through Satoru's mind, the boy's voice sliced through the tense silence, sharp and urgent.
"Over here!"
Satoru's head snapped toward the sound, his body moving on pure instinct. In a blink, he crossed the debris-strewn distance, appearing beside the teen with a swiftness that would have startled anyone less focused. But the kid, intent on something half-buried beneath a pile of rubble, didn't even flinch at Satoru's sudden appearance. Instead, he knelt down, his fingers brushing aside the crumbled remains of what had once been part of Kurosaki's home.
With a determined look, Kakine carefully lifted a dust-covered file from the wreckage. The old, tattered folder was barely holding together, its corners frayed, and its surface streaked with grime and bits of cement dust. Despite its battered appearance, Kakine handled it with a certain reverence, as if he knew it contained something important—something vital.
"I saw it the first time I was in here," Kakine said, his tone serious, almost grave. There was no trace of the cocky, arrogant attitude he usually displayed. Instead, he was focused, his eyes narrowed with intensity as he studied the file in his hands.
Satoru, sensing the weight of the moment, remained silent, his usually flippant demeanor subdued as he watched Kakine with growing curiosity.
"It was on that geezer's table," Kakine continued, his voice low but steady. "When he noticed I was looking at it, he made subtle efforts to hide it."
That last sentence hung in the air, thick with implication. Kakine's words painted a picture of Kurosaki—a man who, for all his power and arrogance, had something to hide. Something he didn't want others to see, especially not someone as sharp and observant as Kakine. The fact that he'd tried to conceal it only made it more intriguing, more valuable.
With deliberate care, Kakine began to dust off the cement residue from the file, revealing more of its battered surface. Satoru watched, his eyes narrowing as he tried to glean any clues from the worn exterior, but it was clear that the real secrets lay within.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of anticipation, Kakine flipped open the file. The sound of rustling paper filled the air as the contents were revealed—pages upon pages of yellowed documents, some of them typewritten, others scrawled with hasty, almost illegible handwriting. There were maps too, folded and refolded so many times that the creases had worn thin. Some of the documents bore the stains of age—coffee rings, smudged ink, and even a few scorch marks, as if they'd narrowly escaped some earlier disaster.
Satoru leaned in, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the pages. As he scanned the first few lines, his jaw involuntarily went slack, disbelief washing over his usually composed features.
"What the fuck!?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine shock.
The documents laid out before them were unlike anything Satoru had expected. They weren't just random notes or old records—they were detailed schematics, blueprints for something massive and complex. There were diagrams of what appeared to be ancient rituals, alongside scientific calculations that seemed far beyond the scope of normal human understanding. The sheer volume of information was overwhelming, but one thing was clear: these were the kind of documents that someone like Kurosaki would kill to keep hidden.
But what caught Satoru's eye—and what made him curse aloud—were the numerous references to Index. Her name appeared again and again, tied to various experiments, spells, and arcane procedures. There were notes about her potential, about the power locked within her mind, and the lengths to which Kurosaki was willing to go to unlock it.
"It's all about her," Satoru muttered, more to himself than to Kakine. "Every single page… it's all connected to her."
Kakine's expression hardened as he scanned the documents, his fingers tightening around the edges of the file. He had been right to grab it—this was the key to finding Index, to understanding what Kurosaki was planning. But it also confirmed something darker, something he'd feared deep down: Index was more than just a girl with forbidden knowledge. She was the linchpin in a plan far more sinister and dangerous than he had imagined.
"They're taking her somewhere," Kakine said, his voice grim. He flipped through the pages, searching for any mention of a location. "There's got to be something here… a place, coordinates, anything that tells us where they're going."
Satoru nodded, his mind racing as he processed the information. He had dealt with powerful enemies before, but this was different. Kurosaki wasn't just after power—he was after something ancient, something tied to the very fabric of the world's magical and scientific laws. And Index was at the center of it all.
As they continued to search through the file, a map caught Satoru's attention. It was folded at the bottom of the stack, almost overlooked in the chaos. He carefully unfolded it, revealing a detailed layout of what appeared to be an underground facility. It was marked with strange symbols, along with a series of numbers that looked like coordinates.
"Here," Satoru said, his voice sharp as he held up the map. "This is it. This is where they're taking her."
Kakine's eyes locked onto the map, his expression a mixture of relief and determination. "We need to move fast," he said, already turning towards the exit. "They've got a head start, but we can still catch them if we hurry."
Index whimpered as she lay tightly bound to the cold, stone altar. The ancient, weathered surface was rough against her skin, but the searing pain in her wrists and ankles was far worse. The red, glowing magic bonds that the Elder had manifested bit into her flesh, chuffing and burning as they held her down with an unyielding force. The room was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls, amplifying the sinister atmosphere.
Kurosaki stood over her, his presence oppressive and suffocating. The weight of his ambition hung heavily in the air, a dark cloud that seemed to blot out any hope of escape. His eyes, cold and devoid of compassion, were fixed on the trembling child beneath him. He was no longer just a man—he was a figure consumed by a hunger for power, a hunger that had driven him to this moment of terrifying certainty.
"We must proceed as planned," Kurosaki muttered, his voice low but deliberate, each word laced with an ominous finality. He made no effort to mask his intentions, speaking loudly enough for Index to hear every syllable. "This is all for the greater good of our world."
He glanced down at Index, who could do nothing but stare back at him with wide, fearful eyes. Her small body shivered uncontrollably, the chill of the stone beneath her doing little to numb the terror coursing through her veins. Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic drumbeat that echoed in her ears as she struggled to comprehend the nightmare unfolding around her.
Kurosaki's gaze was unrelenting, piercing through her with a mix of calculation and fanaticism. To him, she was no longer a child—no longer a person with thoughts, feelings, or a future. She was a vessel, a key to unlocking the secrets of the universe, and he was determined to use her to achieve his ultimate goal.
"This ritual will bring me closer to understanding the true pinnacle of Jujutsu sorcery—no, the pinnacle of magic itself," Kurosaki declared, his voice rising with fervor. His eyes gleamed with a mad light as he envisioned the power that would soon be within his grasp. "And I will usher in a new era, one where I rule as an unchallenged god!"
The grand chamber echoed with his proclamation, the sound reverberating off the stone walls like a dark omen. To anyone else, his words might have sounded like the ravings of a madman, but to Kurosaki, they were the undeniable truth, a destiny he was on the verge of fulfilling.
Standing nearby, Ivona watched her master with reverence, her eyes wide with awe. To her, Kurosaki was more than just a leader—he was a god incarnate, a being of supreme power and knowledge. She had devoted her life to him, and now, as she stood on the precipice of his ascension, she felt a swell of pride and joy. She was going to witness the birth of a new god, a god who would reshape the world according to his will.
"My lord," Ivona whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. She was overwhelmed by the significance of the moment, by the realization that everything they had worked for was finally within reach. Kurosaki had promised her a place in his new world, a world where they would rule together, and now that promise was about to be fulfilled.
"Begin the first phase," Kurosaki instructed, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. He gestured toward Ivona, his expression stern and impatient. "We have no time to waste with Gojo Satoru and that brat hunting for us."
Ivona nodded, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. She knew that time was running out—Satoru Gojo and the boy, Kakine, were relentless, and they would stop at nothing to find Index. But that only made the urgency of their task more pressing. They had to act quickly, before their enemies could intervene.
She moved toward the altar, her hands trembling slightly as she prepared to begin the ritual. The air around her crackled with energy, the ancient magic woven into the very fabric of the chamber beginning to stir in response to her presence. She could feel the power surging through her veins, the same power that Kurosaki had taught her to wield with precision and control.
Ivona raised her hands, and as she did, the red, glowing bonds around Index's wrists and ankles flared brighter, their heat intensifying. Index let out a small cry of pain, her body jerking against the restraints, but there was no escape. The bonds held her fast, trapping her in place as the ritual began.
Ivona's voice echoed off the cold stone walls as she chanted, her words weaving an intricate pattern of ancient magic. The symbols carved into the altar beneath Index's bound form began to glow, emitting an eerie, pulsating light. The air in the chamber thickened with the heady scent of incense, mingling with the acrid tang of something far older, something primal that had been buried deep within the earth for centuries.
As she continued the incantation, the ground beneath them trembled, a deep, resonant rumble that seemed to come from the very core of the planet. It was as though the earth itself was awakening, responding to the dark forces being summoned in this sacred, forbidden ritual. The energy swirling in the room grew more intense, pressing down on all who stood within it, a palpable force that seemed to make the very air heavy with power.
Kurosaki stood by the altar, his eyes locked onto Index's frail, trembling form. His focus was unbreakable, his gaze burning with a mixture of anticipation and cold, calculating determination. This was the culmination of years of relentless pursuit, of countless sacrifices made in the name of his insatiable hunger for power. He could feel it in his bones—this was the moment when all of his efforts would finally be rewarded. He would transcend his mortal limitations, becoming something far greater than a mere sorcerer. He would become a god.
Ivona, lost in the rhythm of her chanting, felt the energy in the room shift. She noticed an eerie, dim green mist beginning to coalesce around her, its presence almost ethereal as it swirled lazily in the air. At first, she thought it was just another manifestation of the ritual's power, another sign that they were drawing closer to their goal. But then, she felt it—a strange sensation creeping into her limbs, a heaviness that made her arms feel like lead.
Her voice faltered, the chant dying on her lips as she struggled to lift her arms, only to find that they wouldn't obey her commands. Panic flickered in her eyes as the sensation spread, her muscles straining under an invisible weight that seemed to drag her down. Her heart raced as she realized that it wasn't just her arms—her entire body was growing heavier, as if the very life was being drained from her.
"What!" she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper as she staggered, her legs giving out beneath her. She collapsed to the cold stone floor, her body trembling with the effort of simply trying to stay conscious. Her mind raced, confusion and fear battling for dominance as she tried to understand what was happening. The green mist was no longer just hovering around her—it was seeping into her skin, its cold tendrils snaking through her veins, pulling at her very essence.
Kurosaki, still standing by the altar, did not turn to face her. His voice was calm, almost gentle, as he spoke, "Forgive me, my Ivona," he began, his tone laced with a cold detachment that sent a chill down her spine, "but I'm afraid this is as far as you may walk beside me on my journey to greatness."
Ivona's eyes widened in shock, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the realization of his words hit her like a blow. She tried to speak, to plead, but the green mist had already sapped her strength, leaving her barely able to move. Her vision blurred as she watched the mist continue to invade her body, the eerie glow intensifying with each passing second. She could feel it now—her life force being drained away, fed to the very ritual she had been helping to perform.
Kurosaki finally turned to face her, his expression serene, almost peaceful. His eyes, however, held none of the warmth or affection she had once seen there. Instead, they were cold, calculating, devoid of any remorse for what he was doing. "In order to complete the next phase of the incantation," he continued, his voice as smooth as silk, "a sacrifice is needed."
Ivona's heart clenched in her chest, a deep, primal fear gripping her as she struggled to comprehend the full weight of his betrayal. She had devoted her entire life to Kurosaki, had served him faithfully, believed in his vision, and now… now she was nothing more than a pawn, a tool to be discarded when no longer useful. The green mist swirled around her, its energy pulsing in time with the ritual's rhythm, feeding off her life force as it prepared to fuel the dark magic that would bring Kurosaki's ambitions to fruition.
"Thank you, for all your years of dedication," Kurosaki said, his voice softening as if he were offering her a genuine compliment. An innocent smile curved his lips, one that might have once brought her comfort but now only filled her with dread. "It is because I understand how loyal you are that I know you would gladly die for me."
Ivona's vision began to fade, her strength ebbing away with each passing second. She wanted to scream, to cry out in defiance, but all she could manage was a weak, choked gasp as the green mist fully enveloped her. Her body went limp, her last thoughts filled with the bitter taste of betrayal. The last thing she saw was Kurosaki's serene face, his expression one of calm satisfaction as he watched the life drain from her.
The green mist pulsed brightly one last time, then dissipated, its energy absorbed into the ritual's growing power. Kurosaki turned back to the altar, his focus returning to the task at hand. Ivona's sacrifice had been necessary, a crucial step in the completion of the ritual that would grant him the power he had long sought. There was no room for sentimentality or regret—only the cold, unrelenting pursuit of his ultimate goal.
As the chamber settled into a heavy silence, the glow from the symbols on the altar intensified, casting an eerie, otherworldly light over the scene. Kurosaki's heart pounded in his chest, not with guilt or sorrow, but with anticipation. The ritual was nearly complete, and with it, his ascension to godhood was within reach.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he prepared to move into the final phase. The sacrifice had been made, the power had been absorbed, and now all that remained was to harness it, to channel it into the ritual that would elevate him above all others.
"This is it," he murmured to himself, his voice filled with a quiet, unshakable certainty. "The dawn of a new era."
"This is it!" Kakine's voice cut through the stillness, filled with a quiet determination. There was no doubt in his mind that they had found the right place—the underbelly of this mountain was where Index was being held, where the final phase of Kurosaki's dark ritual was likely already underway.
Satoru let out a low whistle, his tone tinged with admiration. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, taking in the sight before them. His normally playful demeanor was tinged with a hint of seriousness, an acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. "I can tell there's something up with this mountain—a barrier, similar to what kept the village hidden. My Six Eyes can't see through it… what a pain."
Satoru's voice trailed off as he narrowed his eyes, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the intricacies of the barrier. The Six Eyes, his most powerful tool for analyzing and deciphering the world around him, were being thwarted by something ancient, something powerful. The realization that he couldn't simply rely on his usual methods to break through this barrier only served to heighten the tension in the air.
For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant sound of water trickling down the mountain's rocky slopes. Satoru turned slowly to face Kakine, his usually lighthearted expression replaced by one of serious contemplation.
"Ya know—" Satoru began, his voice carrying an uncharacteristically serious tone.
Kakine's eyes flicked toward him, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on his shoulders. He knew what Satoru was about to ask, and it was a question that had been left hanging between them since their first encounter.
"-I never did get ya name," Satoru finished, his tone casual but with an underlying sincerity. There was something more in that question, something that spoke to the growing respect and camaraderie between the two of them. They had fought side by side, their lives intertwined by fate, but the name of the boy who had shown such unyielding resolve had remained a mystery.
Kakine was silent for a second, his gaze shifting back to the mountain. He could feel the weight of Satoru's gaze on him, an unspoken understanding passing between them. This was more than just a name—it was an acknowledgment of trust, of shared purpose. And yet, the task at hand demanded all of his attention, leaving no room for distractions.
"…We get the kid outta there alive… and I'll tell you," Kakine finally replied, his voice steady but carrying the full weight of the promise he was making. It wasn't just about names—it was about earning one another's trust.
For Kakine, it wasn't just about surviving the ordeal ahead—it was about proving that he could be trusted, that he was more than just another power-hungry sorcerer, another untrustworthy adult. But that didn't mean he was eager to let his guard down around Satoru, despite the slowly growing sense of camaraderie between them.
Sort of…
Satoru, on the other hand, seemed to take Kakine's words in stride. Even though his bandana-covered eyes obscured his true expression, the slight tilt of his head and the curve of his lips betrayed a sense of playful curiosity. There was an intensity in Satoru that Kakine couldn't quite place, a sharpness that lay just beneath the surface of his easy-going demeanor. It was as if Satoru was constantly analyzing, constantly assessing, even in moments of levity.
The smirk that played on Satoru's lips grew wider, his usual carefree attitude reasserting itself as he soaked in Kakine's resolve. "It's one challenge after the other with you, isn't it?" he said, the tone of his voice lightening as he reverted to his typical mischievousness. The shift in his demeanor was almost jarring—a reminder that, for all his power and seriousness, Satoru Gojo was someone who thrived in the thrill of the unexpected, someone who found joy in pushing the limits.
"I love it!" Satoru added, his voice ringing out with a contagious energy that seemed to defy the gravity of the situation. It was as if the mountain before them, the looming battle, and the dark forces they were about to face were all just another game to him—a puzzle to be solved, an obstacle to be overcome with a grin and a laugh.
Kakine could only let out an exasperated sigh, a sound that was more of a release of tension than anything else. As he glanced at Satoru, the absurdity of the situation began to sink in. Here they were, about to storm a mountain fortress, face a sorcerer with god-like ambitions, and rescue a child with likely the most dangerous knowledge in existence—and Satoru Gojo was grinning like a kid who had just found a new toy.
'I can't believe I compared this idiot to that damn monster,' Kakine thought to himself, feeling a headache coming in like a train wreck.
Satoru's smirk widened, and he clapped a hand on Kakine's shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie that spoke volumes. "Alright, let's do this. We'll tear down this barrier, storm that mountain, and get the kid outta there—alive and kicking."
"I'm serious," Kakine finally said, his voice cutting through the playful banter as he turned to face the mountain once more. His expression hardened, the resolve in his eyes burning bright. "We get the kid out alive. No more games, no more distractions."
Satoru's grin softened, the playful edge fading as he nodded in agreement. "Agreed," he said, the seriousness in his tone matching Kakine's for the first time. "But don't forget, you don't have to do this alone."
The words hung in the air between them, carrying a weight that Kakine hadn't expected. Kakine didn't respond immediately, his mind racing as he processed the unspoken offer of trust. He wasn't used to relying on others, wasn't used to sharing the burden that was his life.
"Let's go," he simply said, his voice firm, as he took the first step toward the mountain. Satoru followed, his grin returning as he fell into step beside him.