Having successfully trapped Satoru Gojo within the Prison Realm, Geto stood amidst the wreckage of the station. Nearby, Jogo watched warily, while Choso was just beginning to stir, shaking off the lingering effects of Gojo's Unlimited Void.
Sensing a brief window to regroup, Geto began to speak. "It looks like you're all finally awake. Now, regarding what happens ne…"
His words were cut short. The Prison Realm in his hand convulsed violently, shuddering with a terrifying, restless energy.
"What is happening?" Jogo demanded, narrowing his single eye in concern.
Geto grit his teeth, his hand straining under a sudden, impossible weight. He tried to stabilize the cube, but the pressure was overwhelming.
With a sharp intake of breath, he was forced to release his grip, leaping back just in time to avoid being crushed.
THOOM.
The Prison Realm slammed into the concrete with the force of a meteor, cracking the ground and creating a massive crater instantly.
The sudden turn of events left the curses stunned, their gazes locked on the heavy, pulsating cube.
Geto stared at the object, a vein popping in his forehead. "Damn it," he muttered, genuine annoyance seeping into his voice. "This guy..."
Mahito, ever the curious child, tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with interest rather than fear. "So," he asked, pointing a stitched finger at the fallen cube. "What's the deal with that?"
Geto took a deep breath, smoothing his expression. "The sealing is complete. However, the Prison Realm needs time to process Satoru Gojo. It seems we cannot move it just yet," he explained, his tone a mix of determination and impatience.
They assumed their conversation was private. They were wrong.
High above, a tiny mechanical drone above them, silently relaying everything to an outside party. But Mahito, sensing the faint chip-chap above, whipped his hand out in a fluid, whip-like motion.
Snap.
The drone was obliterated instantly. But it was too late, the data had already been sent.
"Tch. They caught us," Geto spat, glaring at the scrap metal on the floor. His composure was cracking; the situation was spiraling.
Almost immediately, a voice echoed from the destroyed device's speaker before it died completely, announcing the arrival of reinforcements.
"It is no use. The number of Sorcerers is about to increase, and they are heading your way."
The curses tensed, preparing for a fight. But before anyone could move, a low rumble began to vibrate through the soles of their feet.
It wasn't just a tremor. It was a deep, guttural quaking that seemed to originate from deep within the earth, shaking the very foundations of the Shibuya district.
"Now what?" Mahito asked, looking around as debris began to fall from the ceiling.
….
[Meanwhile, outside the station]
"What's going on? Is it an earthquake?"
"I don't know, but I don't think it's just happening here."
"What do you mean?"
"Look at the live streams I'm watching online. It is happening there too."
While the civilians panicked, assuming natural disasters, something entirely unnatural was occurring beneath the Shibuya Station.
….
[Back in the Station]
"What is happening?" Mahito asked again, balancing effortlessly as the floor heaved.
"I don't know," Geto replied, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Perhaps an earthquake or something? Or I don't know maybe something to do with the seal?!"
As if to mock his guess, the shaking intensified.
But this time, the epicenter wasn't the Prison Realm. It was localized to a small patch of concrete not far from where they stood.
Spiderweb cracks tore through the floor. The curses watched in astonishment as the ground burst open, and a tall, wooden structure rose slowly from the depths.
"Hey, look at that!" Mahito shouted, pointing. "Something is coming out of the ground... looks like a coffin."
Jogo turned his sharp gaze to Geto. "Is this your doing, Geto?" he demanded.
Geto shook his head, staring at the object. "No. Why would I summon something now?"
As they stared at the ominous wooden casket, the lid began to splinter. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. With a violent crack, the front of the coffin was blasted away by an invisible force.
Geto, Jogo, and Mahito instinctively took combat stances, bracing for an attack. But to their shock, they felt... nothing.
No Cursed Energy. No killing intent.
As the dust from the coffin settled, a voice cut through the silence. It was deep, resonant, and dripping with absolute, unwavering confidence.
"So... it has finally come to pass. It seems that brat, Nagato, finally managed to grow a spine."
A figure stepped out of the wooden debris.
Jogo couldn't hold back his confusion. "Who the hell is that?"
"I have no idea," Geto admitted, his brain racking through thousands of years of jujutsu knowledge. "I've never seen a summoning ritual like this."
Mahito, realizing the newcomer had no Cursed Energy, relaxed his posture. He grinned, sensing an opportunity for amusement. "Hey, hey, hey! Check out the vintage look. Doesn't he look just like a samurai?" he teased.
Jogo remained skeptical. He squinted at the man's face. "What are those cracks on his skin? And the armor... is he a puppet? A Cursed Corpse?"
The atmosphere in the room plummeted instantly.
The man in the red armor turned his head. His eyes were obscured by shadow, but his voice dropped an octave, sending a chill down their spines.
"What did you just say?" the man asked quietly. "Cracks?"
The man looked down at his own hands. He inspected the red plating of his armor. He saw the fissures in his skin, the debris-like texture of his flesh.
He froze. This wasn't right. This wasn't Rinne Rebirth, the Samsara of Heavenly Life. He was supposed to be flesh and blood.
"This isn't a true resurrection," he murmured, his tone shifting from arrogance to cold realization. "This is the Edo Tensei... the Reanimation Jutsu."
He clenched his fist, feeling the inexhaustible chakra flooding his paper-mache body. An immortal vessel. Infinite stamina.
"This wasn't the plan," the man said aloud, ignoring the curses watching him. "What is that brat thinking, reviving me in this state?"
His mind raced. Had Nagato betrayed him? Did Obito fail to stick to the plan? Why summon him as a walking corpse instead of a living being?
He pushed the thoughts aside. First, he needed information.
"Hey. You," he demanded, lifting his chin to address the group. His eyes swept over them, noting the stitched-up patchwork man, the volcano-headed creature, and the one human among them. "State your names. And tell me where I am."
Geto, recovering his composure, stepped forward. He decided to play the diplomat, though his voice carried a sharp edge.
"My, you certainly lack manners, don't you? It is common courtesy to introduce oneself before demanding the names of others."
The man in the red armor blinked. He tilted his head, genuinely baffled by the response.
"Hah..." A dry chuckle escaped his lips. "You... do not know who I am?"
He straightened his back, looking down at them as if they were insects beneath his boot.
"It seems time is a cruel mistress, to let the world forget my face. Very well. Allow me to enlighten you."
The air seemed to grow heavy, reacting to his mere presence.
"I am... Madara Uchiha."
He spoke the name as if it were meant to be meant something, expecting fear. Expecting awe. But in this world, in the hollow silence of the Shibuya station, the name meant nothing to the monsters standing before him.
….
A/N: Yeah yeah yeah i know what are you gonna say. It is nothing but a rewrite of my very old fic.