The underground vault beneath Jujutsu High had never felt alive before. For centuries, it had been nothing more than a sealed tomb—an ancient chamber designed to imprison a forgotten history. The stone walls were thick, carved from the mountain itself, covered with seals written in ink older than most nations.
But now, the chamber breathed.
The moment the Abyssal Seat was revealed beyond the curtain of liquid darkness, the entire vault seemed to pulse like a beating heart. The air trembled with a slow, oppressive rhythm that echoed through the stone corridors above. Akira felt it in his bones. Not fear. Recognition.
The massive Guardian stood silently between him and the throne. The construct's chains dragged softly against the ground as it adjusted its posture, its white flames flickering within hollow eye sockets. Gojo Satoru stood slightly in front of Akira, relaxed but ready. Megumi remained near the stairs, every muscle tense.
And deep inside Akira's mind—The King whispered.
"You feel it, don't you? The throne is calling its blood."
Akira clenched his fists. "I feel something," he muttered quietly.
The King's voice was filled with dark pleasure. "The Throne is hungry, Akira. It has waited for a thousand years for its Master to return. Don't keep it waiting."
Inside the vault, the black stone throne pulsed again. Once. Twice. Each pulse sent a ripple of cursed energy through the underground chamber like a shockwave through water. Even Gojo's hair shifted slightly in the pressure.
Megumi exhaled slowly. "This energy… it's growing."
The Guardian suddenly lifted its head. "Protocol shift detected. The Sovereign must approach the Abyssal Seat."
Akira's stomach tightened. The throne in the darkness seemed to pull at him like gravity. Every instinct in his body told him to step forward. But something else resisted. His own will.
Inside his head, the King laughed. "Why resist? You already know the truth. You saw the carnage. You saw the crown."
Suddenly—Images exploded inside Akira's mind.
A battlefield under a sky the color of blood. Mountains of corpses stretching across the horizon. And at the center—a throne. The same throne hidden inside the vault. But it was not empty. Someone sat upon it. A figure with four arms and eyes glowing like twin violet stars. And thousands of curses knelt before him.
The vision shattered. Akira staggered backward, grabbing his head. "Enough!" he shouted.
Gojo immediately moved closer. "Akira. If it's too much, we close the door."
But Akira raised his hand. "Wait."
Something had changed. Instead of panic, his mind was clearing. The throne called to him. The King demanded him. The Guardian waited for him. Everyone expected him to break. To surrender. To become the vessel.
Akira slowly stood straight. The violet electricity flickered faintly in his eyes again. Inside his mind, the King spoke softly. "Now you understand. Claim your crown."
Akira took one step forward. Megumi immediately reacted. "Akira, don't!"
Gojo didn't move. He was watching. Carefully.
Akira walked past the Guardian. The massive construct did not stop him; it simply bowed its head deeper. "The Sovereign approaches."
The darkness inside the vault parted as Akira entered. The throne stood only a few meters away now. Black stone. Carved bones. Ancient symbols. It radiated power like a living sun made of shadow.
Inside Akira's head, the King whispered eagerly. "Sit. Let the world know who has returned."
Akira stopped in front of the throne. Silence filled the chamber. Even the Guardian did not move. Gojo's eyes narrowed beneath his blindfold. Megumi held his breath.
The King spoke again. "Claim your crown."
Akira slowly lifted his hand. For a moment, it looked like he was about to touch the throne. The entire vault trembled. The cursed energy pressure exploded.
And then—Akira slammed his fist into it.
CRACK.
A jagged fracture spread across the black stone surface. The chamber froze. The Guardian's flames flared. Megumi's jaw dropped. Even Gojo blinked in surprise.
Akira stepped back from the damaged throne, breathing hard. "I'm not your king."
The words echoed through the vault like thunder. Inside his mind, the King fell silent. Then—Itlaughed. Not with rage, but with a terrifying Pride.
"Interesting… you refuse the throne. You break the very seat of your power. You truly are a stubborn thing, Akira."
Akira wiped blood from his palm where the stone had cut him. "I'm not ruling curses. I'm not becoming a monster."
The King replied slowly. "Then rule something greater. Rule the very darkness that fears me."
Before Akira could respond, the Guardian suddenly stood up. Its chains snapped tight. Its burning eyes blazed brighter than before, turning a hostile, flickering crimson.
"Protocol violation detected. Unauthorized damage to the Abyssal Seat. Trial initiated."
The entire vault shook violently. The chains around the Guardian shattered. Ancient seals burned to ash. Gojo's smile slowly returned. "Oh. So it's that kind of night."
The Guardian's voice thundered. "To damage the Throne is to challenge the King. Prove your right to reject the crown."
Akira stared up at the four-meter construct. The pressure in the room became unbearable. Megumi prepared his shadow technique. But before either could move, Akira stepped forward.
"I'll fight it."
"You can't—" Megumi started.
"Yes, I can." Akira interrupted.
The violet electricity returned to his eyes, stronger and more stable this time. Inside his mind, the King whispered again, but the tone had changed. It sounded… curious.
Akira raised his hand toward the Guardian. Dark energy began to swirl around his fingers like a forming storm. The Guardian took its first step, the ground cracking beneath its weight.
Akira smiled. Not in fear, but in decision. The King had returned, but the throne was no longer the only power in the room. The Guardian's massive fist fell toward Akira—
And in that exact moment, Akira whispered a single word.
"Kneel."
The entire vault exploded with cursed energy. And then—Something impossible happened.
The Guardian stopped. Mid-attack. Its body was trembling, its chains screaming as they were pulled toward the floor by an invisible, crushing weight. Megumi's eyes widened in shock. Gojo slowly lifted his blindfold slightly.
The Guardian—the ancient construct that had waited nine centuries—was beginning to bend itsknee.
And as the broken throne began to heal itself, the stone knitting back together like living flesh...
A second pair of glowing eyes opened in the darkness behind it. They weren't mechanical like the Guardian's. They were deep, predatory, and filled with a thousand years of malice. They watched Akira, glowing with a cruel, crimson light.
Watching.
Smiling.