The cursed womb hung over Japan like a second moon—but one made of nightmare. Its black surface pulsed with malevolent light, patterns of cursed energy writhing across it like living tattoos. The very air within the super barrier grew thick, heavy, pressing down on every conscious soul.
People looked up and felt it. Something terrible was growing inside that sphere. Something that should not exist.
And while they watched the sky, the ground beneath them shifted.
Across the country, the fallen began to rise.
But they were not the same people who had collapsed. Their eyes held something ancient—wisdom and malice mixed in equal measure. They moved with unfamiliar grace, spoke with forgotten tongues, carried memories a thousand years dead.
Kenjaku's pact, made centuries ago, bore fruit. Ancient sorcerers—some famous, some forgotten, all powerful—had been promised resurrection. Now, using the super barrier he had stolen from Kamo Itsuki, Kenjaku fulfilled that promise.
They rose by the hundreds. By the thousands. An army of the dead, wearing living flesh.
Their mission: keep the conscious sorcerers occupied. Delay them. Distract them. Give the cursed womb time to hatch.
But Kenjaku knew: ordinary sorcerers could be delayed. Special Grades could not. For them, he needed something special.
Something terrifying.
The Sukuna fingers that powered the barrier completed their transformation. No longer physical objects, they became pure cursed energy—and through the barrier's connections, that energy converged on a single point.
Miyagi Prefecture. A hospital room. A boy and his grandfather, both unconscious.
Itadori Yuji's eyes snapped open.
But they were not his eyes.
Below his normal eyes, a second pair opened—crimson, ancient, hungry. Black tattoos erupted across his skin, spreading like ink through water, covering face and arms and chest and back with intricate, terrifying patterns. His pink hair spiked and sharpened, becoming something wilder, more aggressive.
The King of Curses rose.
Ryomen Sukuna stood, flexing fingers that hadn't moved freely in a millennium. He examined his borrowed body with savage satisfaction.
"Indeed... light must be felt through the flesh!" His voice was Yuji's but not—deeper, older, layered with menace. "This era is truly wonderful! Women and children, gushing out like maggots. Excellent—I shall slaughter everyone!"
He burst from the hospital room, ascending to the rooftop. Arms spread wide, he drank in the night air, the freedom, the chaos.
Then his right hand moved. Without his command. It touched his face.
"Hey." Yuji's voice, emerging from his own mouth but somehow separate. "What are you doing with my body? Give it back."
Sukuna's triumph faltered. "How are you still moving?"
"It's my body, you idiot!"
The tattoos flickered. The extra eyes began to close—not completely, but partially. Sukuna's control wavered.
"Impossible!" The King of Curses raged within Yuji's consciousness. "I am Ryomen Sukuna! I cannot lose to a brat!"
He pulled—dragging Yuji's will into his Innate Domain.
They stood in a space of bone and chaos. Before Yuji towered Sukuna's true form: four arms, two faces, a monument to slaughter.
"Who are you?" Yuji demanded. "Why are you in my body?"
Sukuna didn't answer. He simply moved—one massive hand severing Yuji's neck in a single, brutal motion.
Yuji gasped, stumbled, clutched his throat—
It was fine. Unharmed. A dream within a dream.
Sukuna watched, satisfaction warring with irritation. The boy's will was stronger than anticipated.
But the King of Curses had a millennium of patience.
Outside, in the real world, Sukuna's form stood motionless on the rooftop. His extra eyes remained partially open. His tattoos glowed faintly.
The battle for control had begun.
And above Japan, the cursed womb pulsed, waiting to be born.
"You're really rude." Itadori Yuji pointed at the towering Sukuna, his voice carrying more annoyance than fear. "If you're so tough, come down here and fight me one-on-one."
His arm disappeared. Severed by an invisible blade.
Itadori stared at the empty space where his limb had been, then back at Sukuna. "So you're mute and a coward? Great combination."
Sukuna's eyes narrowed. The boy's arm was already regenerating—within the Innate Domain, physical damage meant nothing. But the attitude...
"Just who are you, kid?" Sukuna rested his chin on stacked hands, head tilting with genuine curiosity. "Normally, people would be scared."
"You should introduce yourself before demanding names, you rude jerk."
"One or two times won't do it." Sukuna raised a hand, and Itadori's body began to disintegrate piece by piece. "But a hundred times? A thousand? I'll cut you until you question your own existence."
Itadori reformed, gasping—and opened his mouth to unleash a truly spectacular tirade.
A hand rested on his shoulder.
"Mr. Kamo?" Itadori spun, finding Kamo Itsuki standing calmly beside him within the bone-white void. "How did you get here too?"
This was not the real Kamo Itsuki. It was a contingency—a sliver of consciousness woven into the blood-thread snake that had entered Yuji's heart weeks ago. Waiting. Watching.
Ready.
Sukuna's multiple eyes fixed on the newcomer. "Who are you?"
Kamo ignored him completely, speaking only to Yuji. "This guy is Sukuna. The King of Curses from a thousand years ago."
"King of Curses?" Yuji processed this. "So... he's a bad guy?"
"The worst kind." Kamo's voice was calm, unhurried. "He wants to use your body to reincarnate into the modern era. And I'm going to help him."
Yuji's confusion deepened. "Help him? But you're a good person, Mr. Kamo. Why would you help a bad guy?"
"Because I need him to reincarnate first." Kamo finally looked at Sukuna, and there was something in his eyes that made even the King of Curses feel a flicker of unease. "Once he's fully manifested in the real world, I can kill him permanently. Completely. Forever."
He turned back to Yuji, his expression softening. "I can't let him stay in your body forever, Yuji. You wouldn't be able to live a normal life that way. So I'm going to help him out—and then I'm going to end him."
Sukuna's eyes blazed with interest. "You think you can kill me? In the real world, with my full power?"
"I don't think." Kamo's smile was thin and cold. "I know."
The King of Curses threw back his head and laughed—a sound like breaking bones and crashing waves. "Magnificent! An era with people like you? This will be fun."
In the real world, Sukuna's form on the rooftop shuddered. The tattoos pulsed brighter. The extra eyes opened wider.
The battle for control had just gained a new player.