The white walker shikigami were weak. Their ice blades were deadly, yes—but one good hit with cursed energy disrupted the cursed flow within them, and they shattered like mist. Rika, Yuta's shikigami, could probably handle an army of these things without breaking a sweat, Gojo thought with a smirk.
But this blizzard was different. It wasn't just cold—it was sentient. Gojo trudged forward, cursed energy shielding him, but the wind howled like a dying spirit. He needed to rest. He spotted a narrow cave opening and made his way toward it, hoping to rebuild his strength until tomorrow.
Then he heard it—singing. Soft and eerie, like a lullaby from a forgotten age. Memories surged back to him in a rush—Jujutsu High, Yaga, Shoko, Suguru, Megumi, Yuta, Yuji. And then—
"You know nothing, jon snow"
Pain.
A cold blade pierced his back, stabbing directly into his heart.
"Again?!" Gojo hissed through clenched teeth. Just like Toji Fushiguro. That same burning agony.
"Shit," Gojo growled, and pumped cursed energy directly into his heart, forcing it to pump. His limbs trembled. He reached back and slammed a vicious backhand into his assailant, sending them sprawling into the snow.
He spun, eyes widening.
The attacker was a puppet—no, a corpse, marionetted by cursed energy. Its eyes were dead, but its posture and movement were alive. A cursed corpse.
It stared at Gojo in shock—surprised that its assassination had failed.
Gojo saw the opportunity and charged. The corpse drew a thin, wicked sword and slashed. Gojo caught it with a hand wrapped in cursed energy, sparks flying as steel scraped against his barrier. With his other hand, he slammed a punch into the puppet's chest—but it dodged and hurled a glass vial.
Green light.
"Wildfire?!" Gojo twisted his body mid-air, barely evading the explosion. The cave mouth crumbled behind him. The blizzard thickened. Cursed energy signatures surrounded him—more cursed puppets? No, those were the cursed children of the forest. Were they casting the storm?
Gojo narrowed his eyes. "All or nothing."
He activated his Simple Domain. Body low on the ground. His breathing slowed. The wind howled.
A blade slipped through the veil of snow, entering his domain.
Gojo moved instantly.
The blade sliced clean through his left hand. But his right—the cursed-energy charged right—smashed into the corpse's chest.
Black Flash.
Time distorted. Space compressed. The cursed corpse was blasted into the snow with a deafening crack, its limbs twitching before going limp.
Gojo stood, bloodied and one hand short, but glowing with power. His cursed technique stirred—awakening again after too long.
Then the singing stopped.
The blizzard cleared.
And he saw it.
A dragon.
Towering. Radiant with cursed energy. Its wings stretched across the sky like a curtain of doom.
Gojo blinked. "Shit."
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
The dragon roared—and cursed fire bathed the land.
Gojo screamed, standing his ground as the inferno swallowed him.
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