Reiji slowly lifted his hand away from his face.
Pain still lingered, sharp and throbbing. But the spectacle of macabre devastation before him, left him with no choice.
He had to look.
Whatever instinct screamed for him to turn away was drowned out by the sheer impossibility of what lay ahead.
It was eerie beyond words.
There had been no warning.
No ominous rumble creeping through the earth.
No calm before the storm.
The effect had come first.
Several skyscrapers collapsed in silence, folding in on themselves like brittle toys.
And only after that did the cause arrive.
The earthquake followed, late and meaningless, shaking what little remained standing.
Meanwhile, whatever had triggered it all remained safe within its lair, untouched by consequence.
Reiji gaped, unable to process it.
Nothing made sense.
Earthquakes were common in Japan. Buildings fell, people were hurt, lives were lost; but even then, there was a certain order to these things. Tremors came first… sensors reacted… scientists predicted, warnings were sounded, and evacuations began. Damage could be mitigated. Lives could certainly be saved.
But this… This wasn't how reality was supposed to function.
"T-this isn't…" Reiji thought, disbelief clawing at his mind.
"…supposed to happen."
Right before them, skyscrapers had collapsed.
And only then did the ground move.
'Is this… what he meant by breaking the flow of events?'
Causality itself had been reversed.
The effect preceded the cause.
There was no time for countermeasures. No room for preparation. No chance for intervention.
Geto snapped into motion first.
"We need to help!" he shouted, already sprinting toward the destruction.
Gojo followed a moment later, teeth clenched, his usual levity stripped away.
Reiji, however, remained frozen.
His body shuddered as if every function within him had stalled.
He stood there, locked in utter shock.
Shoko didn't hesitate.
She stepped in front of him and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him sharply.
"Hey. Snap out of it."
Her voice was calm, almost flat; but her eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.
"H–huh?" Reiji stammered.
"There will be people trapped in the wreckage," she said firmly, already tugging him forward. "We need to move."
Reiji's body felt heavy and unresponsive, but it took only a moment for instinct to kick back in.
"…Right," he muttered.
Shoko nodded and took off running.
Reiji cast one last glance over his shoulder toward M'khoro.
"We don't know how to reach that thing," Reiji said quickly. "And we can't risk you getting involved with the higher-ups."
"I can help," M'khoro replied evenly.
Reiji shook his head.
"They'll pin this on you," he said sharply. "Especially after St. Luke's. The higher-ups will twist the narrative. They always do… they are a corrupt bunch after all."
M'khoro regarded him silently.
"…Then I will wait here," he said at last.
Reiji wanted to argue but time was already slipping away.
He turned back toward the horizon.
Shoko was getting farther.
'Too slow.'
Reiji inhaled sharply.
"Flowing Red Scale."
In an instant, he surged forward.
He caught up to Shoko immediately and, without warning, scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
"What the hell?!" Shoko yelped.
"Not fast enough," Reiji muttered.
"Flowing Red Scale- Stack One."
He tightened his grip and bolted forward at blinding speed.
"WOAH—!" Shoko yelled as the scenery blurred past them.
Geto reached the site first.
The devastation was staggering.
Though the affected area was relatively small; barely a city block, the concentration of destruction was unreal. Skyscrapers engineered to withstand earthquakes had collapsed completely, reduced to twisted steel and pulverized concrete.
Some of them were residential.
"…This is bad," Geto muttered.
He summoned a horde of curses, sending them scurrying through the rubble to lift debris and search for survivors, if there were any.
Gojo arrived moments later.
Geto watched his curses work for a moment, then slowly lifted his gaze.
The sky… It was fractured.
Light shimmered unnaturally, like cracked glass suspended above the city.
Geto snarled.
Whatever lurked beyond that distortion, he already hated it with all his being.
Suddenly, a blue void tore through the air.
Geto tracked its path instinctively.
Gojo stood at its origin, face contorted with fury, hurling technique after technique skyward; trying to tear the sky itself apart.
Geto watched closely.
The blue collided with the fracture… And passed through it cleanly.
The distortion rippled… then repaired itself as if nothing had happened.
Geto's jaw tightened.
"…Just as I feared."
'We cannot hit it as long as it hides.' He concluded.
Reiji arrived moments later and gently lowered Shoko onto the fractured earth beneath them.
The ground was uneven, cracked into jagged plates, dust still drifting upward in thin, ghostlike plumes. Shoko steadied herself quickly, already scanning the devastation.
Geto shot Reiji a brief look of unspoken acknowledgment, before plunging headfirst into the rubble. Gojo followed immediately after him, his jaw clenched, and his movements sharp.
The two reverse cursed technique users threw themselves into the chaos.
Divine healing energy flared to life as they worked, hands glowing as they sealed wounds. It stabilized shattered bones, and forced broken bodies back from the brink of death. Had this been an ordinary earthquake, such intervention would have been forbidden under laws of jujutsu society.
But this was no natural disaster.
This catastrophe had been born of a supernatural anomaly.
And so, they were permitted to heal non-sorcerers as well.
The sight was grotesque.
Blood pooled at the bases of collapsed structures, dark and thick against the concrete. Several bodies had been hurled from upper floors, lying twisted and unmoving across the street. Some were beyond help. Others lingered just barely within reach.
In the immediate wreckage, there were no screams.
That silence was infact much worse.
Everyone at the epicenter was either dead… or too maimed to cry out.
Reiji rushed toward the small body of a child nearby, dropping to his knees to assess him. Shoko, meanwhile, dragged a half-conscious man free from lighter debris and immediately began treatment.
As she worked, her gaze flicked outward.
Lights were beginning to turn on in the surrounding blocks. Windows flickered to life one by one as the rest of the city slowly woke to the sudden disturbance.
This earthquake was perplexing.
The destruction was localized… focused and compressed into a single area with terrifying intent.
As if something had deliberately restrained its power…
…and then released it all at once.
The realization hit Shoko like a jolt.
She spoke without looking up, continuing her work as cursed energy flowed steadily from her hands.
"Ugh… I knew you idiots would mess this up," she muttered. Then, louder:
"Reiji… we need a veil. Now! Before the people start to notice."
Reiji had just finished stabilizing the child. Though he could have pushed further in order to force consciousness back, he knew better. Their reserves were limited. Right now, the priority was to keep as many people alive as possible until support arrived.
He nodded sharply.
She was right.
Saving lives here could not come at the cost of spreading mass panic.
Carefully, Reiji moved the child to a safer spot and straightened.
He closed his eyes and focused.
In his relentless struggle to survive his childhood, and later, to refine his combat abilities; he had neglected barrier techniques. They were not tools meant for immediate survival.
Still…
'I'll have to thank the old man for this.'
Despite Reiji's resistance, Dairoku Kamo had drilled the theory of barriers into him relentlessly. Curtains, layered seals, even the clan's closely guarded anti-domain techniques; all were etched into his mind.
And for a simple curtain…
Theory alone would have to suffice.
"Reiji… you might want to hurry up with that veil."
Shoko's voice carried a sharp edge of irritation. Though only moments had passed since she'd told him to cast the curtain, the situation was deteriorating far too quickly for hesitation.
Reiji inhaled slowly, steadying himself.
'I need to visualize it clearly', he thought.
'The shape and the boundary first. And then the intent.'
He brought his hands together, fingers forming the necessary signs. Despite the chaos around him, he shut his eyes and forced everything else out.
"I must picture the barrier I want… nothing more, nothing less."
His lips parted, and he chanted.
"Emerge from darkness, blacker than black.
Purify that which is impure."
For a heartbeat… Nothing happened.
Reiji's eyes snapped open, instinctively lifting toward the moonlit sky.
'Did it… fail?'
Then…
A faint shimmer appeared overhead.
At first, it was barely visible. Then, slowly, a light red liquid began to trickle downward from the sky itself. It did not fall like rain… It oozed and stretched unnaturally, obeying no gravity.
The liquid traced an arc.
Then another.
Until a perfect hemisphere formed around the disaster site.
The light within the barrier shifted, tinted an ominous crimson that bathed the rubble, the bodies, and the living alike in a muted red glow.
Reiji's breath hitched.
"W–what…?" he murmured.
This was nothing like the barriers he had seen Principal Yaga erect.
Those had been clean, dark and neutral.
This one felt… Different to say the least.
Perhaps even alive. As though its functions were not exactly what they were supposed to be.
A bead of cold sweat slid down Reiji's temple as a creeping realization settled in.
'I messed up.'
Before he could dwell on it, Shoko's voice cut through his thoughts.
"That'll do, Reiji," she snapped. "Stop spacing out and help me!"
"R-right," Reiji replied immediately, shaking himself free and rushing toward another injured civilian.
Across the wreckage, Gojo and Geto both noticed the shift.
Gojo paused mid-motion, Blue humming faintly as it pulled debris aside. He tilted his head back, staring up at the sky, irritation flashing across his face.
"…Tch."
He clicked his tongue and sighed, then turned back to the task at hand, forcibly dragging a trapped woman free from a collapsed structure.
Geto, meanwhile, had found Hana.
Her body was broken, face crushed by falling concrete, blood matted thickly in her hair. By some cruel miracle, her skull had not been completely shattered.
Geto's expression softened as he gently lifted her, careful not to jostle her further. He cradled her in his arms and began carrying her toward the RCT users.
As he moved, his gaze flicked upward.
The veil.
The blood-red dome shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Its surface rippling almost imperceptibly as it painted the full moon in red.
Geto slowed.
His curses stirred uneasily around him.
Something about the barrier set his instincts on edge. His senses tingled with discomfort
It certainly wasn't attacking.
It wasn't rejecting him either.
But it felt like, it was a crude mistake. A shoddy barrier put up by an inexperienced user who couldn't quite set the parameters right.
Subtly malevolent, not in intent, but in nature.
Geto's jaw tightened.
'This isn't a standard curtain.'
He reached the others and lowered Hana carefully.
*******************************************
Within a barrier nestled deep inside an ancient castle, the Green Dragon stood in quiet conversation with the Asura.
The two figures faced one another across tiled stone floors worn smooth by time. As "friends," they had spoken at length of calamity, of stagnation, of the world to be unmade and reshaped.
Yet one problem remained unresolved.
The Asura spoke first, his voice smooth and deliberate, every word was cleverly measured.
"My friend," he said, "though I am more than willing to aid you in you-… our… design… I must ask; how do you expect me to enact it from within this prison?"
The Green Dragon exhaled slowly.
He rose and approached the edge of the translucent barrier that enclosed the Asura. With deliberate calm, he extended his right hand into it.
The barrier softened, stretching under his touch like living membrane.
"You cannot," the Dragon replied simply.
"Which is why I must first discover how to shatter this cage."
The Asura opened his mouth to respond, then stopped.
He knew better.
To break 'that' man's barrier was no trivial task. Even he, once renowned as the greatest illusionist of his age, one who had deceived sages and tyrants alike, had fallen to the progenitor's trap.
He nodded instead, waiting.
As the Dragon's hand moved deeper, the red mesh embedded within the barrier pulsed violently, shifting as though resisting an unseen pressure.
"Tell me, Asura," the Dragon said without turning.
"Why are barriers wrought by his hand so… obstinate?"
The Asura sighed softly.
"For a longest time," he said, "that answer eluded even the brightest minds."
Then, slowly, an idea took shape.
"There," he said, pointing toward the crimson markings etched at the barrier's base.
The Dragon followed his gesture.
"All barriers require a formula," the Asura continued. "A structure; an arrangement of intent and cursed energy that produces an effect."
He paused, eyes narrowing.
"Most rely on visualization or even talismans... to shape energy through imagination."
"But he…"
The Asura's tone sharpened.
"He used his own blood as the medium. He used it to guide the energy and to define the formula."
The Dragon raised a brow.
"Oh?"
The Asura nodded.
"Affinity and talent played their roles, yes. But his mastery over blood was… unnervingly precise."
"Enough to dictate conditions of the barriers at will."
His expression twisted, old memories surfacing.
"When I faced him, his blood did not behave like a substance," the Asura admitted.
"It felt like an extension of his very soul."
The Dragon turned away, gaze distant.
"Then tell me this," he said quietly.
"How does his blood still uphold these barriers… even after countless ages?"
The Asura looked down at the cracked tiles beneath his feet.
"I can only theorize," he said.
"But perhaps…"
He lifted his head slowly.
"…he is not truly dead."
Silence fell.
The Asura watched the Dragon carefully, half-expecting dismissal.
Instead, when the Green Dragon turned to meet his gaze…
A savage, uncharacteristic smile split his serene features.