Months slipped by, and the world was no longer the same.
Cities once lit with the hum of normal life were now veiled in fear and fascination. Humanity had crossed a threshold — a quiet apocalypse wearing the face of evolution.
Across continents, people began manifesting abilities that defied logic. Flames that danced to will, shadows that whispered, gravity that bent around fingertips — and for the first time in history, the word "sorcerer" wasn't confined to Japan.
They called them "Ability Users."
A man in Brazil who could liquefy steel with a touch.A girl in Cairo who could speak to shadows.A soldier in Ukraine who could teleport across entire battlefields.
Governments called them "Potential Assets."
And the people… whispered "monsters."
War-torn nations suffered most.
In the crumbling streets of Aleppo, black mist seeped from the corpses of the dead. In Baghdad, soldiers vanished inside shimmering distortions. In Syria, an entire base was found turned to glass overnight.
Curses swarmed the Middle East like locusts in a storm.Cities in ruin became feeding grounds — the rage of war birthing new horrors every day.Even the most advanced military couldn't fight something that couldn't be seen.
Videos leaked online — shaky, blurred footage of monstrous silhouettes devouring soldiers.Governments dismissed them as propaganda.But people weren't fools anymore.The world was afraid.
Curses were multiplying faster than ever before — and their forms grew more grotesque, more intelligent.
Fear spread like an infection.
And in the quiet glow of his underground lab, Kurotsuki Tenkai watched it all unfold.
Aion's voice echoed softly through the air.
"Pattern correlation at 89%. Consistent signature detected — female, Japanese, cranial markings."
Tenkai's fingers moved across his holographic screen, equations reflecting off his irises. "Forehead stitches…"
Aion paused. "You've already concluded, haven't you?"
"Yes," he said calmly, leaning back in his chair. "Kenjaku."
The AI's tone shifted, almost wary. "Estimated threat potential?"
"Variable," Tenkai replied. "He's not attacking directly. He's manipulating the ecosystem — creating chaos so Gojo and I stay busy."
Aion hummed. "Strategic distraction."
"Exactly. He wants balance to collapse under its own weight."
"Will you pursue?"
Tenkai's lips curved faintly. "No. Kenjaku hides too well. His existence thrives on evasion and proxies. I'll dismantle his results, not his roots."
He turned the hologram off. "Besides… everything he's building still leads to one equation."
Aion's digital eyes flickered. "Sukuna."
"Precisely."
Japan wasn't exempt either.
Curses were rising like never before. Cities near Kyoto and Sendai reported nightmarish activity. Special-grade entities that should appear once a year were surfacing weekly.
Gojo Satoru, the ever-dazzling sorcerer, had become a whirlwind — his laughter echoing across battlefields as he exorcised curses between teaching classes.
But before Jujutsu High could even catalog these spirits, Suguru Geto had already swept in — his black robes fluttering, curses following like shadows. His collection grew larger, and his smile darker..
The higher-ups were panicking. Papers piled on desks. Orders flew like bullets. And through all the chaos, one name kept reappearing on their lips:
"Gojo! Handle Geto immediately!"
"Kurotsuki must intervene — Japan will fall!"
"They're treating us like janitors," Gojo had once muttered, laughing to himself.
And Tenkai?He simply declined.
It was another quiet evening at Tenkai's home.The glowing dusk filtered through the glass walls of his lab, painting him in amber light as he coded.
The soft click of heels echoed behind him.Before he could turn, a familiar voice purred,
"You've been in this lab since morning again, haven't you?"
Alice appeared — radiant as ever, carrying a tray of snacks and drinks.Without hesitation, she sat in his lap, curling against him as if the seat had always been meant for her.
Tenkai smiled faintly. "You're supposed to knock."
She looked up with a mock glare. "You're supposed to take breaks."
"Mm-hmm," she teased, holding a strawberry to his lips. "Existence tastes like sugar today."
He chuckled and let her feed him. "You're impossible."
"I'm adorable. Learn the difference."
"Confirmed," Aion chimed flatly. "Miss Alice Nakiri ranks as 'Adorably Unreasonable' within emotional metrics."
Alice giggled. "Even Aion agrees!"
Tenkai sighed with mock defeat. "Traitorous machine."
She peeked over his shoulder, curious. "So what's the project this time?"
He tapped a floating interface. "Quantum Replicator Node. Palm-sized device. Temporarily clones any non-living object at atomic precision for 24 hours before disintegration."
Alice blinked. "…So basically, a perfect copier?"
"Exactly. Limited to non-organic matter, though."
Her jaw dropped. "You're telling me you can clone gold,platinum, or even—"
"Supercomputers," he finished for her, a faint grin on his face. "Already tested. Works flawlessly."
Alice's mouth dropped open. "That's… that's insane."
"Practical," Tenkai corrected with a smirk. "And profitable."
"Of course it does," she muttered in awe. "Because my boyfriend's a literal god."
He laughed softly. "Don't let Gojo hear that."
"Oh please," Alice said, rolling her eyes. "That man would find a way to print it on a T-shirt."
Aion added dryly, "Estimated probability: 87%."
They both burst into laughter.
Weeks later, the world exploded with headlines.
"Kurotsuki Industries Unveils Quantum Replicator Node!""A Device That Can Duplicate Reality?!""Governments Scramble to Regulate Impossible Technology!"
News anchors screamed into the cameras. Economists fainted live. Influencers posted videos holding QRN prototypes, showing shimmering, flickering gold bars that turned to dust after a day.
Social media went into meltdown:
"Did this man just BREAK PHYSICS!?""Bruh, Tenkai just made money fake and real at the same time.""Quantum capitalism is wild.""Alice Nakiri's boyfriend is literally the final boss of science."
"Bro just broke capitalism.""Kurotsuki's tech makes Thanos look underfunded.""You're telling me man invented infinite gold???"
The world once again stared at Tenkai with awe and disbelief.
Then, late one evening, his phone buzzed.
The screen lit up: Gojo Satoru.
He sighed. "…This can't be good."
He answered. "What is it, Gojo?"
Gojo's voice blasted through the speaker, annoyingly cheerful.
"Yo, Tenkai! Or should I say Mr. God of Tech! Saw your little science trick — pretty cool. You just made gold worthless, you know?"
Tenkai rolled his eyes. "You called to mock me or waste my time?"
"Both!" Gojo laughed. "But actually, I have news. Jujutsu High just got a new addition. Guy's a genius. Reminds me of you, except with more hair and less emotion."
"Picture this — Shibuya District, curses running amok, and this random lawyer guy pulls out cursed energy like he's been doing it all his life. Mid-fight. No training."
"A civilian awakened?"
"Awakened is putting it lightly. The dude used cursed technique law principles to trap the curse in a metaphysical trial. Even I clapped."
Tenkai's curiosity flickered. "Name?"
"Higuruma Hiromi. Age thirty-two. Former defense attorney. Sharp eyes, sharper tongue. The moment he awakened, I just knew — this guy's gonna shake up the system."
Tenkai chuckled. "So what did you do?"
"Obviously recruited him!" Gojo said, mock-offended. "You think I'd let someone that cool go to Kyoto? He's Jujutsu High material now."
"Interesting," Tenkai murmured. "A cursed technique born from justice itself…"
"Yup! I even told him, 'Hey, you're older than me, but in sorcerer hierarchy, I'm still your senpai.'"
"And?"
"He glared at me so hard I almost felt mortal."
Tenkai couldn't help laughing. "You probably deserved it."
"Always do!" Gojo said cheerfully. Then his tone shifted. "Anyway," Gojo continued, his tone shifting slightly. "Japan's curse density is spiking again. Special grades are popping like popcorn. Even I'm getting tired. I need your help this time — can't let the higher-ups panic themselves to death."
"I'm busy," Tenkai replied flatly.
"Good. You'll multitask. Sending you coordinates now. See you in ten!"
"Gojo—"
"Already sent the location! Bye, lover boy!"
Click.
The line went dead.
Tenkai stared at the screen. "…He hung up."
Alice giggled behind him. "That sounds like Gojo."
He sighed. "Unfortunately, yes." He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat. "Looks like I'm working overtime."
"Then come back soon, okay?" she said softly, cupping his cheek. "The world can wait. Dinner can't."
He smiled faintly, pressing his forehead against hers. "Deal."
Alice's smile softened, though concern flickered in her eyes. "Be careful, okay?"
He gently cupped her cheek. "Always."
Then, with a shimmer of light — he vanished, leaving behind a faint ripple in the air.
Alice sighed, looking at the empty spot. "Strongest or not… you're still terrible at saying goodbye."
As he disappeared into streaks of light, the hum of the lab dimmed — and the holographic monitors flickered, displaying new data from Aion.
"Multiple global awakenings detected. Patterns converging… probability of systemic event rising."
The world was shifting again.
Sorcerers. Ability Users. Justice incarnate.A new age was beginning — and Tenkai stood, as always, at the center of the storm.