Gojo arrived at the Zenin estate with calm but alert steps. It had been a long time since he had visited the place, not since the funeral of Kaori Zenin, the wife of the clan leader. On that occasion, he had also taken the opportunity to check on the girls he had returned a few years earlier. However, this time his visit was not personal but rather at Tengen's insistence, who had asked him to bring Makima Zenin for a conversation that, according to him, was of utmost importance. That request, though unusual, piqued Gojo's curiosity, and he couldn't help but feel there was something strange about it. Why was Tengen suddenly so interested in talking to a child? It seemed that old man had a certain interest in young girls, which made him uncomfortable.
The atmosphere at the estate was different from what he remembered. A heavy, somber air hung over everything; the clan members walked like shadows, their faces empty, emotionless. They seemed like zombies who didn't even glance at him. As he walked down the halls, he noticed the deterioration of the estate's energy. The Zenin clan, once so proud, now seemed like a living ruin, a reflection of its imminent collapse. Gojo sighed to himself, careful not to let his expression reveal what he was thinking, but the clan's situation was, at the very least, depressing. Even so, he didn't stop—he had a mission to complete.
Upon reaching the main hall, he found Naoya Zenin, Naobito's son, sitting in a casual, almost disinterested manner, as if Gojo's presence was of no importance. Naoya's posture exuded arrogance, like he was playing at being the leader, but without the actual ability to handle the situation. Gojo, silently observing, realized Naoya wasn't doing a good job. The clan's decay was evident, and although he could point it out, he didn't think it was worth the effort. However, an amused smile briefly crossed his face. Should he tell Naoya to his face just to see how he'd react?
"I came for young Makima," he finally said, breaking the silence with a calm yet direct tone. "Is she ready?"
Naoya, who had been lost in his arrogant silence, lifted his gaze to look at him. For a few seconds, he said nothing, as if debating whether to answer. Finally, he gave a barely perceptible nod.
"Wait here," he replied coldly, "she'll be here soon."
Gojo settled in, crossing his arms as he waited. He knew the Zenin weren't known for their courtesy or speed, so the delay didn't surprise him. After a few minutes, the door finally opened with a soft creak. As he turned to look, there she was: Makima Zenin, a presence that stood out in the gloomy atmosphere of the estate. Her bright red hair fell in soft waves, framing her face, while her golden eyes seemed to shine with a calm yet penetrating strength. She wore well-fitted black pants, a pristine white shirt, and a perfectly tied black tie. What caught the most attention was her long black coat, almost like a cape that flowed down to the floor—a garment her brother had never seen her wear. Walking beside her was Rika, also in pants and a shirt but without the coat, making the two girls seem like an intriguing and somewhat intimidating duo.
Gojo smiled with his usual relaxed expression, but his blue eyes reflected a particular interest in Makima's change in appearance.
"Are you ready?" he asked, maintaining his friendly tone.
Makima, always serious, simply nodded. Her behavior, as usual, was reserved and calculated. She knew what she was there for, but she didn't show any anxiety or uncertainty. Rika, on the other hand, seemed a bit more tense but maintained her firm posture.
Without saying another word, Gojo placed his hands lightly on the shoulders of both girls. Before either of them could blink, the environment around them changed in the blink of an eye. In an instant, they had left behind the depressing Zenin estate and now stood in the room where Tengen awaited. The journey was so fast and smooth that Makima, surprised, couldn't help but stare intensely at Gojo. She had heard many times about his Limitless technique, but experiencing it firsthand was something else. "It really lives up to its name," she thought to herself, not letting her expression betray her surprise.
"Welcome," Tengen said in his usual neutral tone, though this time, there was something more. His greeting was especially cordial, even friendly, toward Makima. Gojo noticed the change in tone, and a slight suspicion began to grow in his mind. It was clear that Tengen knew more than he was willing to admit.
"Makima," Tengen continued, looking directly at her, "there's something we need to discuss. I strongly suspect that you are the cause, or at least one of the reasons, why the curses are more out of control than ever. Special-grade curses have increased significantly, and it's hard to think you're not related in some way."
Makima listened without changing her expression, but a faint smile began to form on her lips.
"That sounds like an exaggeration," she said calmly. "My ability is just a simple technique. It allows me to control people, nothing more."
She didn't want to admit the true extent of her power. She preferred to keep a low profile, playing the humility card before an ancient being like Tengen. But he wasn't fooled. His neutral expression remained unchanged, but there was a slight smile on his lips as well.
"Simple or not, the impact you've had is something we can't ignore," Tengen replied. "But that's something we can discuss in private."
Gojo, though always relaxed, couldn't help but frown slightly. There was something about the situation that didn't sit right with him. That Tengen requested a private conversation with Makima and was now dismissing both him and Rika was suspicious. However, Tengen smiled at him with a tranquility that left no room for doubt.
"Don't worry, Satoru. It'll just be a conversation. You can wait outside."
Gojo, still not entirely convinced, decided not to push the issue. With his usual carefree smile, he nodded and turned to Rika, motioning for her to follow him. Together, they left the room, though Gojo's mistrust lingered in his mind.
Once they were gone, and the barrier seal activated, ensuring no one else could hear what was said, Tengen moved a little closer to Makima. His expression changed; there were no more smiles, only a heavy seriousness that filled the room.
"Now that we're alone," he said firmly, "I want to know... what do you need to be on our side?"
Makima, for the first time, blinked in surprise. Then, as if regaining control, she let out a small laugh.
"Hehe, it seems I'm caught... So you already know what's happening."
Tengen observed Makima with an unusual intensity, his eyes seeming to analyze every detail of her being as he began to speak. The silence in the room became heavy, dense, as if each word he was about to utter carried a millennia-old weight.
"The technique you possess, Cursed Domination, is not something ordinary. In all the history I know, there has only been one person before you who had it. It was about 500 years ago. A boy..." he paused, his gaze seeming to momentarily drift into distant memories. "He was just 6 years old when his technique awakened. At first, it seemed like a blessing, a gift to control people and curses, albeit in a limited way. But soon, everything changed. That boy... wasn't able to handle it."
Makima listened in silence, her expression unperturbed. Her curiosity was piqued, but she didn't show surprise. She knew her technique was unique but didn't know the details of the precedent Tengen was speaking about.
"He said his head was filled with grotesque thoughts," Tengen continued, his tone low, almost as if sharing a dark secret. "As if the worst curse was whispering in his ear. Ideas, voices, impulses. He couldn't escape them. At first, he could only give simple commands, orders that drained his cursed energy in seconds. The chains of control the technique granted him... he never used them, never had real control over them."
Tengen paused for a moment, letting his words settle in Makima's mind. Then, his gaze became even more piercing.
"The boy went mad," he finally said, his voice echoing like a haunting memory. "The pressure of those voices consumed him. By the age of 11, his mind couldn't take it anymore, and he ended up committing suicide. He couldn't develop the technique beyond simple commands. His cursed energy was limited, and that protected him in a way... but it also condemned him."
Makima listened to it all with unsettling calm, her golden eyes shining with a mix of interest and understanding. It wasn't the first time she had heard stories of those who had fallen victim to their own techniques, but this tale had a particular connection to her.
"And now, after 500 years, it has resurfaced." Tengen paused again, as if weighing his words carefully. "But there's a difference... your cursed energy is overwhelmingly vast. You're able to do what he couldn't. You've mastered the technique in a way he never reached. Although..." and here, Tengen leaned a little closer to her, his eyes narrowing. "I wonder, did you truly master the voices? Or... did the voices master you?"
Makima couldn't help but smile. Her expression was serene, but there was a spark of defiance in her eyes. She didn't respond immediately, allowing the silence to stretch between them, heavy with tension.
"What do you think?" she asked in a soft tone, almost as if she were playing. "After all, here I am, standing before you, completely sane... or am I?"
Tengen didn't smile, but his eyes revealed a deep interest in Makima's implicit answer. He knew there was far more to her than what appeared on the surface. The technique that had destroyed a boy centuries ago now flourished in her, and the question wasn't whether Makima was strong enough to control it, but... what had she sacrificed to do so?