LABOTOMY KAISEN FANS I NEED YOUR POWER RAISE YOUR HANDS, GIVE ME YOUR IDEAS I NEED THEM.
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Sukuna stopped laughing.
His four eyes snapped east. Something had just been summoned in Shibuya.
He looked at Jogo. Exhausted. Technique burned out. The zombie beside him in the same state.
Sukuna turned his back and left.
Just gone.
Jogo stood in the crater. No energy. The zombie beside him, equally spent, arm linked with his.
Sebas dropped from a rooftop in front of them.
"That was fun," Sebas said.
Jogo stared at him. Too exhausted for words.
Sebas clapped his hands together.
A portal opened behind Jogo and the zombie. Warm light. The sound of wind through grass. Volcanic hot springs on the other side because Sebas figured volcano boy would appreciate that.
"In you go," Sebas said. "Nice dimension. Quiet. No sorcerers. Just you and my son. Honeymoon destination."
"I'm not going on a HONEYMOON with a—"
The zombie gently took Jogo's arm and walked through the portal.
Jogo got dragged with it.
"WAIT—"
The portal closed.
"Godspeed, son-in-law," Sebas said.
Sebas turned east. Toward where Sukuna had gone.
He took one step.
His one remaining shoe found a banana peel.
A BANANA PEEL. In the middle of a warzone. A single, inexplicable banana peel lying on the ground like the universe had placed it there personally to remind Sebas that he would never — NEVER — be allowed to have a cool moment.
His foot went forward. His body went backward. Arms windmilled.
"BWUAGH—"
Face first. Into the concrete. Again.
He lay there.
"...Every time," he muttered.
He got up. Looked at the banana peel.
"WHO IS EATING BANANAS DURING AN APOCALYPSE?"
He kicked it into the void and kept walking.
He found the fight three blocks east.
Sukuna was mid-exchange with Mahoraga — the Divine General, towering, white, a wheel spinning above its head every time it adapted to an attack. Megumi was on the ground nearby, unconscious, barely alive.
Sebas crouched behind rubble.
Mahoraga swung. Sukuna dodged. Counter. The wheel spun. Adapting. Mahoraga tanked the next hit better than the last.
Sukuna hit harder. Mahoraga adapted. Sukuna switched techniques. Mahoraga adapted to that too. The wheel kept spinning. Every exchange, the Divine General got tougher.
Sebas watched. Eyes wide. Taking it in.
"Yo," he whispered. "That big white dude just... learns? Mid-fight? That's his whole deal?"
Mahoraga punched Sukuna through a building. Sukuna came back grinning.
Sebas stared at Mahoraga. White. Completely white.
"You know what would be funny."
He reached behind his back.
In the middle of a fight between the King of Curses and a Divine General that had been untamed for the entire history of the Ten Shadows Technique, a man with one shoe walked into the intersection.
Both combatants stopped.
Sukuna glanced at him. Four eyes. Flat.
Mahoraga's wheel went still.
Sebas stood between them. Arms raised. Fists clenched. The exact summoning pose.
He took a deep breath.
"WITH THIS TREASURE, I SUMMON—"
Pause. Dramatic. Held the pose. Let it cook.
"EIGHT-HANDLED SWORD DIVERGENT SILA DIVINE GENERAL—"
Longer pause. Sukuna's eyes narrowed a fraction.
"BLACK MAHORAGA."
The shadow behind Sebas erupted.
A figure rose from the darkness. Same towering frame as Mahoraga. Same build. Same wheel. Same sword-arm.
Completely black. Jet black. The photo-negative of the original.
It stood behind Sebas. Massive. Looking around like it had just woken up and wasn't entirely sure what was going on.
Sukuna looked at it. Then away. Already disinterested.
Mahoraga looked at it. Then back at Sukuna. Didn't care about the knockoff.
"THIS," Sebas announced, gesturing behind him with both hands, "IS MY GREATEST CREATION."
Neither of them reacted.
"Its cursed technique," Sebas continued, undeterred, "is STEALING. It steals techniques. Touches you, takes your moves. Imagine Mahoraga's adaptation but instead of learning your attacks it just YOINKS them straight out of your cursed energy. Gone. His now. One touch and your whole toolkit belongs to—"
Sukuna raised one finger.
Sebas was still talking.
"—my boy Black Mahoraga, the greatest Divine General ever conceived, an unstoppable force of pure offensive—"
A single Dismantle crossed the intersection.
"—power that will revolutionise the entire concept of shikigami combat and redefine what it means to—"
Black Mahoraga split in half.
Both halves hit the ground with a wet thud. The black wheel clattered. The sword-arm rolled away. The two pieces lay in the street like a jigsaw puzzle that someone had given up on.
Nine seconds of existence. One casual slash. Not even a named technique. Just a flick of Sukuna's finger while Sebas was mid-sentence.
Sebas's mouth was still open. His hands were still gesturing. His brain was three seconds behind the reality of what had just happened.
He looked at the two halves of Black Mahoraga.
Then at Sukuna.
Then at the two halves again.
"...NOOOO!" Sebas fell to his knees. "MY SON! HE KILLED MY SON!"
He crawled to Black Mahoraga's upper half. Grabbed it.
"SPEAK TO ME! SAY SOMETHING! USE YOUR STEALING TECHNIQUE! STEAL HIS TECHNIQUE! STEAL ANYTHING! STEAL A WILL TO LIVE!"
Black Mahoraga did not respond because Black Mahoraga was in two pieces and had been alive for less time than it takes to microwave a hot pocket.
"HE DIDN'T EVEN GET TO TOUCH ANYONE," Sebas wailed. "HIS WHOLE THING WAS TOUCHING PEOPLE AND HE DIDN'T TOUCH A SINGLE PERSON. WHAT WAS THE POINT. WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ALL THAT DRIP IF HE DIES IMMEDIATELY."
Sukuna had already turned back to the real Mahoraga. The actual fight resumed. Neither of them spared another glance at the shoeless man crying over a dead knockoff in the middle of the street.
Sebas knelt there. Holding half a Divine General. Tears streaming.
"I gave you the chant," Sebas whispered. "I gave you the colour scheme. I gave you a cursed technique. All you had to do was touch him ONE TIME."
He sniffed.
"All offence no defence. I'm a terrible father."
He gently laid Black Mahoraga's upper half down. Stood up. Wiped his eyes.
Looked at Sukuna fighting the real Mahoraga. The wheel spinning. Adaptation after adaptation. Sukuna pulling techniques from a thousand years ago right out of his ass. The two strongest beings in Shibuya going blow for blow.
Sebas sat down on Black Mahoraga's torso like a bench. Crossed his legs. Manifested a drink.
"...I'm not making another son for at least three chapters,"
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Yo make a review and shit comment pls cuz funny to read yk.
also join the discord cuz again y not?
http://discrd.gg/jU7hsgEPMP
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[Sebas is cool.]