Gojo vs Valkorion

As Gojo floated amidst the crumbling landscape of Katarr, the remnants of the planet beginning to drift into the void of space due to Nihilus's relentless Force Draining, he paused to survey the damage to himself. His right side was scorched, and his body bore the marks of their intense battle, but Gojo's expression remained one of determination. He knew that his own limits were being tested, but he was far from beaten.

Activating his Reverse Cursed Technique, Gojo's aura flared with a vibrant red light, the energy swirling around him like a protective cocoon. The radiant red glow intensified, enveloping his entire body, stitching together every wound and burn. The very essence of his soul, the unique spark of life that defined him in this galaxy, began to mend. It was as if the universe itself was responding to his command, weaving back the fabric of his being with the precision of a master craftsman. The mangled tissue of his body knit back together seamlessly, and even the deep, spiritual wounds inflicted on his soul were healed as if they had never existed. The red aura pulsed rhythmically, like a heartbeat, as Gojo's flesh regenerated with unparalleled speed, each cell rejuvenated with the vitality of his cursed energy.

It was nothing short of a miracle—Gojo's Reverse Cursed Technique was not just a restoration of the physical but a complete reclamation of his essence. Every pain, every tear in his soul, was undone as if they had never been. His wounds disappeared, leaving no scars, and his spirit felt whole once again, a testament to the unrivaled power of his cursed abilities. In that moment, Gojo was reborn, a radiant figure of unmatched resilience floating amidst the ruins of a dying world.

Once fully restored, Gojo's eyes shifted to Nihilus's scattered equipment, remnants of the Sith Lord's power. He reached out, and with a simple thought, he stored the fallen Sith's robes, mask, and other artifacts into his system inventory. The items shimmered briefly before vanishing, transported into a secure space, completely under Gojo's control.

But Gojo's ambition did not end with merely claiming Nihilus's belongings. He had plans to seize the very essence of Nihilus's power. Holding out his hand, Gojo invoked Sankt Altar, a forbidden Quincy spell designed to rob an opponent of their abilities. 5 orb of Reishi extended from Gojo's fingers, wrapping around the remnants of Nihilus's presence. Quincy Zeichen with the target in the center pulsed as they drained the dark energies, siphoning the Force Draining, Force Lightning, and even the esoteric powers that had defined Nihilus. Each strand of energy was meticulously stripped away, absorbed by Gojo until the very essence of Nihilus was nothing more than a hollow shell.

With Nihilus's abilities securely within his grasp, Gojo shifted his focus, activating the Almighty. His eyes glowed with the all-seeing power of Yhwach, peering back through the veils of time. Scenes of Nihilus's past lives flickered before him—ghostly images of a warrior who once had a physical form, a life before the consuming darkness had claimed him. Gojo traced the lines of fate, finding the moment when Nihilus had been whole, when he had a body of flesh and blood.

Through manipulation of the past, Gojo extended his hand and summoned forth Nihilus's physical form from the threads of time. The air rippled as a body materialized—a figure from a forgotten era, now standing before him, perfectly intact but devoid of essence or soul. The body stood as an empty vessel, a mere shell, prepared for what Gojo had in mind.

Satisfied with his creation, Gojo began the first step: Soul Distribution. With a deft command, he spread fragments of his own soul into the resurrected form, embedding just enough of his essence to establish dominance and control. The vessel came alive under Gojo's will, standing ready as a puppet awaiting its master's command. This process ensured that the body was perfectly primed, its allegiance bound to Gojo, making it an ideal target for his next move.

As Gojo implanted the stolen abilities of Nihilus into the summoned body, he meticulously ensured that each power integrated seamlessly. Force Draining, Force Lightning, and every aspect of Nihilus's dark mastery were embedded into the vessel, preparing it for the ultimate purpose that Gojo envisioned. This reconstructed form would serve as a formidable pawn in Gojo's grand strategy, designed not just to wield power but to act as a conduit for a far greater plan.

He smirked, his expression filled with anticipation. "Two more tenebrae... and the final clone of Plagueis," Gojo mused aloud, the thrill of the upcoming confrontations lighting up his eyes. He could feel the gathering darkness, the convergence of forces that would test his might once more.

Gojo then spoke with a voice that resonated across the void, filled with confidence and a sense of inevitability. "Once all of my Soul Distributions are complete across seven vessels—legendary Sith of the past—I will invoke the ritual of Nathema, not as Tenebrae did with the lives of Jedi and Sith, but with a far greater target."

His gaze turned skyward, as if addressing the very fabric of the Force itself. "I will use you, dark side of the Force, via Auswählen. I'll reduce you by 20%."

The air seemed to tremble at his words, as if the dark side itself recoiled at the audacity of Gojo's declaration. He was not content with simply defeating powerful adversaries; Gojo intended to rewrite the balance of the Force itself, stripping it of a significant portion of its darkness. With his power growing and his plans unfolding, Gojo stood ready to reshape the galaxy to his will, a master of forces beyond any Sith or Jedi's comprehension.

As Gojo sensed the sudden presence of the Eternal Fleet, a formidable force led by Valkorion, he quickly assessed its massive composition. The fleet, consisting of 2,000 ships, was integrated with advanced Gravestone technology, including select ships with short-range teleportation capabilities, enhancing their mobility and strategic positioning.

The fleet was organized as follows:

300 Eternal Fleet warship class Battlecruisers: These behemoth battlecruisers were the backbone of the fleet. Each warship was equipped with plasma beam cannons, heavy turbolasers, and multi-layered deflector shields for both offense and defense. They possessed short-range teleportation for repositioning, advanced cloaking technology for stealth missions, and their most devastating weapon: the Sun Generator. This superweapon harnessed the power of nearby stars, unleashing catastrophic energy blasts capable of obliterating fleets or planets. Additionally, the battlecruisers were fitted with the galaxy's fastest hyperdrives, making them capable of rapid strategic deployment anywhere in the galaxy

300 Terminus-Class Destroyers : These versatile destroyers were the balance of offense and defense within the Eternal Fleet. They were armed with dual heavy turbolasers, energy beam projectors, ion cannons, concussion missiles, and advanced deflector shields. Like their battlecruiser counterparts, they also featured cloaking technology for stealth operations and the ability to perform tactical jumps with short-range hyperspace travel.

700 Ardent-Class Frigates : Primarily designed as escorts, the Ardent-class frigates were invaluable for fleet defense, equipped with rapid-fire laser cannons, flak cannons, and reactive shield generators for anti-starfighter operations. They also featured ion pulse weaponry capable of disabling enemy shields or systems temporarily.

400 Phantom-Class Corvettes :Agile and fast, these corvettes specialized in hit-and-run tactics. Armed with light laser cannons and plasma repeaters, they could perform rapid strikes against their targets. Each corvette was equipped with short-range teleportation systems for rapid maneuverability and cloaking technology to stay undetected.

100 Specter-Class Support Ships

These ships were the logistical backbone of the fleet, focusing on repairs, resupply, and electronic warfare. Equipped with powerful countermeasures and sensor disruption systems, they were vital in blinding and confusing enemy forces. Though non-combat in nature, their cloaking technology kept them safe from enemy detection

The fleet is commanded from two powerful flagships:

Eternal Throne Command Ship: The primary command vessel equipped with omni-cannon beam cannons, heavy turbolasers, and absorption shields, capable of short-range teleportation for strategic maneuvers.

Eternal Wrath Command Ship: A secondary flagship designed to counter powerful adversaries like Gojo, featuring anti-Force measures, adaptive shielding, and enhanced mobility with Gravestone's multi-vector assault mode.

Upon realizing the fleet's might, Gojo smirked and sarcastically muttered, "Damn, my mouth speaks too much, huh? Seems like the dark side's getting very angry." He knew that his bold declarations had stirred the forces of darkness, drawing a response that would test his growing power.

Gojo considered the situation, his smirk deepened. "So, the dark side has upped the ante. Not just a Tenebrae clone with Plagueis inside but the real Tenebrae himself along with his manifestations as Vitiate and Valkorion. The dark side isn't just taking a swing anymore; it's going all out." He could feel the intensity of the dark side's resolve, a palpable force that sought to eliminate him by any means necessary.

Meanwhile, aboard the Eternal Throne Command Ship, Valkorion, the dominant voice of the dark side, observed the confrontation with a calculating gaze. Though Tenebrae was the core, Valkorion had taken the forefront, and from this point onward, he would be the one to engage with Gojo, ensuring clarity and focus in this cosmic struggle.

Valkorion's presence was commanding as he surveyed the battlefield, the assembled Eternal Fleet poised to strike at his command. He spoke with a voice that carried the weight of countless lifetimes and the authority of an emperor who had ruled over vast empires. His tone was calm, almost indifferent, yet laced with an undercurrent of menace.

"The dark side must be very desperate," Valkorion mused aloud, his voice resonating through the command ship, reaching out to Gojo across the void. "To eliminate this Gojo Satoru, the dark side has told me little beyond the fact that you can tear apart fleets and stop planet destroyers with a mere gesture of your hand. Yet, as Valkorion, I find it fitting to speak with you first, Gojo Satoru. There is power in words before the clash of force, and I am curious—what kind of being are you, to evoke such fear and urgency from the dark side itself?"

Valkorion's eyes gleamed as he awaited Gojo's response, the tension of the looming battle amplifying with every passing second. He was not merely looking to vanquish a foe but to understand the enigma that stood against the most formidable powers of the galaxy.

Valkorion's command ship shone brightly, it wasn't a signal to fire but rather to project a hologram. Beside Gojo, a life-sized image of Valkorion appeared amidst the crumbling landscape of Katarr. The two stood face to face, the galaxy's most enigmatic powers meeting in the eye of a cosmic storm. Valkorion's gaze settled on Gojo, his four-pupiled blue eyes scrutinizing every detail of the sorcerer before him. He thought to himself, This man is unlike any Sith or Jedi. He is something new, a force that defies the established order of this galaxy.

Valkorion, ever the manipulator and master of charisma, shifted his approach, choosing diplomacy cloaked in subtle flattery. His voice was calm, laced with a touch of regal authority as he spoke. "Because of you, Gojo Satoru, the dark side resurrected me in my full power, brought my fleet back from oblivion, all for the purpose of eliminating you. For this, I must extend my thanks. But tell me, what could you possibly have done to provoke such desperation from the dark side? What makes you so threatening that it would bend the rules of death itself to see you gone?"

Gojo, unfazed by the compliment or the inquiry, smirked in his usual mocking manner. "The failed emperor finally descends to see this maniac, huh? All right, I'll humor you," Gojo said, his tone dripping with sardonic amusement. "I'm going to use your precious ritual of Nathema, but not on mere people, and certainly not on third-rate Sith or Jedi. No, I intend to use it on the dark side itself and reduce it by fifteen percent."

Valkorion's eyes widened, the calm, calculating demeanor briefly shaken. His thoughts raced in disbelief. This maniac… he speaks nonsense. How could one even consider wielding the Nathema ritual against the dark side itself? For the first time in countless centuries, Valkorion found himself confronted by a proposition that defied his comprehension, an act of audacity so immense that even he, the immortal emperor, was momentarily confounded.

Valkorion's mind grappled with the absurdity of the claim, trying to discern whether Gojo's declaration was mere bravado or if this outsider truly had the means to reshape the very fabric of the Force. The dark side had resurrected Valkorion at his peak, restored his fleet, and granted him power that once seemed unassailable. Yet here stood Gojo Satoru, a being who spoke of manipulating the dark side itself as if it were a mere tool to be bent to his will. Valkorion's confidence wavered, and for a fleeting moment, the unflappable emperor was left questioning the extent of Gojo's power and the true threat he posed to the galaxy.

Valkorion, seated upon his Eternal Throne within the command ship, decided to take matters into his own hands. With a subtle gesture, he attempted to use the Force to transfer his essence and combine it with Force Domination, aiming to make Gojo Satoru his fourth vessel. The plan was to bend Gojo's will and subsume him under his control, adding yet another powerful being to his collection.

However, as Valkorion reached out, he was met with an unexpected resistance—no, not a mere barrier, but a force akin to a black hole that shielded Gojo. It was as if Gojo's very essence consumed and nullified any attempt to penetrate it. Valkorion's eyes narrowed as he sensed the vast, unfathomable darkness surrounding Gojo, a darkness with a thousand eyes and a thousand horrifying mouths, each one whispering a chilling warning.

"If you want to throw hands, then just shoot already," the mouths spoke in unison, their voices dripping with disdain. "I'm getting bored."

Valkorion was momentarily stunned, his confident composure cracked by the sheer alien nature of the power before him. He did not recognize it as anything from the Force—this was something else entirely, something primordial. He knew of the ancient and obscure powers, but this felt beyond even those realms, and Gojo wielded it effortlessly.

Valkorion, ever the strategist, masked his shock with a stoic expression, but internally, his thoughts were racing. This man is not bluffing. He truly believes he can reduce the dark side itself. And... he might actually be able to do it. As he continued to assess Gojo, Valkorion realized that this was not simply a mortal adversary or even a typical immortal; Gojo was beyond the typical bounds of life and death.

Speaking to himself, Valkorion's voice betrayed a rare moment of frustration. "This man... he isn't just immortal; he defies the very concept of mortality. He wields his power without the need for rituals, without the constant maintenance that my immortality requires. How infuriating… to be reborn at my peak, yet face someone who needs nothing to sustain his endless existence."

The realization gnawed at Valkorion. He, who had mastered life and death through relentless pursuit and constant rituals, was now faced with an entity who seemed to transcend all of that without any effort. It wasn't just that Gojo was powerful—it was that his existence seemed to be a natural state of supremacy, a state that Valkorion had spent millennia striving for but never truly reached. This man was not just a threat; he was a living affront to everything Valkorion had believed about power and immortality. The idea that Gojo needed no sustenance, no rituals, and no reliance on the dark side made Valkorion seethe with a deep, unspoken envy and disbelief.

Returning to the outside world, Valkorion found himself once again seated on his Eternal Throne, surrounded by the cold, calculated silence of the Eternal Command Ship. But something had changed—his entire command ship, and even the space around it, was cloaked in the same consuming darkness that emanated from Gojo. Thousands of eyes peered through the void, and countless mouths whispered incoherent threats, lingering like a palpable tension in the air.

Valkorion's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the ominous surroundings, a seething frustration building within him. He could kill me, Valkorion thought, the realization cutting into his pride like a blade. But he doesn't. He has all the power he needs to end me right here, right now. Yet he chooses only to threaten me.

It was more than just disbelief—it was an affront to his very being. Valkorion, who had spent millennia mastering life, death, and the infinite nuances of the dark side, was now faced with an opponent who, seemingly without effort, held the ultimate power over him and yet refused to act on it fully. It felt as though Gojo was toying with him, dangling his invincibility as if Valkorion were some unworthy plaything.

This is intolerable, Valkorion mused, his frustration giving way to a deep-seated fury. To be reborn at my zenith only to be shown mercy—or worse, pity—by this... this anomaly. He doesn't even see me as a threat worthy of his full power. Valkorion's hands clenched around the armrests of his throne, the metal creaking under the pressure. The dark side, which had always answered his call, felt distant and muted in the presence of Gojo's overwhelming aura.

Valkorion's mind worked furiously, strategizing, calculating every possible angle. His intelligence, honed over centuries of manipulation and conquest, screamed against the unfairness of it all. How can he be so assured? So complacent? Valkorion thought, his anger simmering beneath his composed exterior. How can someone wield such power without the constraints, the costs that have always bound even the greatest of Sith and Jedi?

His pride would not allow him to accept being overshadowed, not by Gojo's mere presence nor by the casual disregard that Gojo displayed toward the traditional bounds of power. This man... he is not bound by the rules of this universe. He defies the very essence of what it means to be a force wielder, Valkorion realized, the thought sparking a dangerous blend of envy and rage. He stands above life and death, while I, Valkorion, must toil endlessly to sustain my supremacy.

Valkorion's eyes flickered with a renewed resolve. He would not be cast aside so easily, nor would he allow his legacy to be overshadowed by an entity who dared to wield such power without understanding its true weight. The Emperor of the Eternal Throne was not one to submit to the will of another, even if that meant bending the galaxy itself to his will to reclaim his place. The fight was far from over, and Valkorion, as always, would find a way to turn the tides.

As the darkness surrounding Valkorion faded, the countless eyes and mouths vanished, leaving the Eternal Command Ship momentarily restored to its familiar, cold sterility. Valkorion's grip on his throne loosened, but his frustration simmered just beneath the surface, his thoughts still churning with the affront of Gojo's apparent mercy. He had felt his power diminished, his authority questioned, and it was intolerable.

Suddenly, Valkorion's thoughts were interrupted by a voice through the holocomms—Gojo Satoru's voice, cutting through the tension with a tone that was both dismissive and direct. "What do you want, Wonder of U?"

Meanwhile, on the crumbling landscape of Katarr, Gojo stood, seemingly uninterested in Valkorion's hologram that hovered beside him. He looked off to the other side, his attention diverted, as if Valkorion's presence was nothing more than a fleeting annoyance. "What do you want, Wonder of U?" Gojo repeated, addressing the stand as it materialized beside him.

Wonder of U, ever enigmatic and composed Stand , inclined its head slightly. "I've got a message from your group at Theed Castle," it responded in its characteristic, unhurried manner.

Gojo sighed, a mix of boredom and mild irritation crossing his face. "Ah, yeah. Tell them I'm fine. I'm just going to get rid of the trash. They should stop worrying so much."

But Wonder of U, unperturbed, continued, "The message isn't about worry or concern for your well-being, Gojo Satoru." Its expression shifted slightly, almost as if reflecting a semblance of care, albeit in its uniquely detached way. "It's about... cheers."

Gojo blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Huh?" he responded, confusion evident in his voice. The shift from battle readiness to something as mundane as a cheer caught him completely off balance, a stark contrast to the tense confrontation he had just been navigating.

Back in Theed Castle, a tense atmosphere filled the room as the assembled Jedi and onlookers watched Gojo's battle unfold on the ethereal screen. His decimation of Sith reincarnations and clones, including those that Plagueis had hopped into, sent ripples of unease through the group. Gojo's earlier declaration to reduce the dark side by 30% if he succeeded in killing Plagueis echoed ominously in their minds.

Obi-Wan, his face a mix of awe and concern, spoke first, breaking the silence. "Gojo's declaration… to reduce the dark side itself by 30%… It's no wonder the dark side has responded so fiercely, bringing forth these ancient Sith Lords."

Qui-Gon nodded, his expression grave. "It's not just that, Obi-Wan. Gojo knows exactly what he's up against. He's not just fighting Plagueis; he's facing Bane, Malgus, Revan, Exar Kun, and, of course, Nihilus. These are not mere adversaries; they're some of the most formidable Sith the galaxy has ever known."

Obi-Wan's eyes darkened as he recalled the power of Nihilus. "I only mentioned Nihilus's Force Drain to Gojo, but seeing his true power on this screen… it's terrifying. Nihilus drained the life from Malachor, Dagobah, Vjun, and even Iridonia—innocent worlds teeming with life, now reduced to horrifying, desolate wastelands." His voice wavered slightly, the horror of witnessing such devastation weighing heavily on him.

Captain Panaka, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up with a dry, sarcastic tone. "And let's not forget, Gojo didn't just confront Nihilus. He went toe-to-toe in a fistfight with that walking apocalypse and actually won. It's like watching a myth unfold before our eyes, only with a lot more explosions and less sense."

The room fell silent again, the weight of Gojo's actions settling in. Each battle against these resurrected Sith wasn't just a fight—it was a cosmic declaration that Gojo Satoru was willing to challenge the very foundations of the Force itself. As the Jedi watched, their faces reflected a mix of hope and dread. Gojo's unorthodox approach, his raw power, and his willingness to go where no one else dared brought both admiration and fear.

Even for seasoned warriors like Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, the scale of Gojo's ambition—to diminish the dark side by an act so bold—was almost beyond comprehension. The screen flickered as Gojo's image continued to dominate, his movements fluid and unyielding, every strike a testament to his resolve.

The tense scene continued to play out on the screen, the air in Theed Castle was thick with anticipation and emotion. Gojo stood alone, surrounded by the Eternal Fleet's 2,000 ships, every cannon trained on him. Anakin, struggling to keep his composure, spoke up, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and admiration. "Now Sensei is surrounded by 2,000 ships aiming their cannons at him. It's not fair. He was resurrected back as the Honored One, and now…" His voice wavered, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "He's going to die because he fought too many opponents."

Padmé, standing resolute, her love for Gojo evident in every word, countered Anakin's fears without hesitation. "No, he won't die, Anakin," she said with unwavering conviction. "Gojo Satoru won't fall here. He's stronger than all of them combined. He'll survive and come back to us." Her gaze softened, but her voice carried an unyielding confidence. "However, it seems he's tired of people worrying about him. It's time we cheer him up and remind him that we're waiting for him here."

Turning to Gojo's disciples, Padmé's eyes moved over Suzunami, Yukinami, and Reika, knowing that their words could reach Gojo in ways no others could.

Suzunami, ever the protective and headstrong twin, spoke first. His voice was steady but carried a depth of emotion rarely seen from him. "Sensei, I know you don't need our protection, but remember, you taught us to be strong, to never back down, no matter the odds. We're here, and we believe in you. So go and show them what it means to be the Honored One."

Yukinami, with eyes gleaming with a blend of love and determination, followed. Despite her usual shyness, the bond she shared with Gojo gave her the courage to speak earnestly. "Sensei, you've always been our guiding light, our strength. I believe in you with all my heart. Please come back to us safely… not just as our master, but as someone who means everything to me." Her cheeks flushed slightly, her unspoken feelings hanging in the air.

Reika, watching Yukinami's heartfelt confession, clenched her fists. She refused to be outshone, especially in her devotion to Gojo. Stepping up, her voice was clear and filled with resolve. "Gojo Satoru, Sensei… You've never once let us down. You're not just a master; you're our leader, our hope. Don't you dare die out there. We're waiting for you, not just because we're your disciples, but because… we all care about you in ways we can't even put into words."

Shmi, who had been quietly watching, stepped forward, her expression one of gratitude and warmth. "Gojo Satoru, you freed me and my son from the chains of slavery. For that, I will always be grateful. We'll wait for you to come back here."

Anakin, inspired by the words around him and determined to live up to Gojo's expectations, wiped his tears. He addressed Gojo directly, this time not as "Sensei" or "idiot sensei," but by his full name, showing the respect and recognition Gojo had given him. "Gojo Satoru, you still remember this potential man, right? Let's meet at the top of the galaxy and decide who is the strongest!" His tone was bold, a mix of challenge and pride, a reflection of the one person who recognized his potential and believed he could one day reach, or even surpass, Gojo.

Obi-Wan, who had remained thoughtful, spoke up, his voice tinged with cautious optimism. "Gojo Satoru, you've already faced what we thought were unbeatable odds. You've shown us that even the darkest of powers can be challenged. We trust you'll find a way through this, just as you always have."

Qui-Gon nodded in agreement, his expression calm yet resolute. "The Force moves in mysterious ways, Gojo. You've done more than just fight—you've inspired hope. Remember, it's not just about winning battles; it's about what you leave behind. And what you've left with us is a belief that anything is possible."

Sabe, crossing her arms with a determined expression, added her own message, tinged with her usual fire. "I still haven't slapped you yet, Gojo Satoru, so don't you dare die before I get the chance."

Captain Panaka, who had been a skeptic of Gojo's motives in the past, spoke next, his tone carrying a grudging respect. "I was wrong about you, Gojo. I thought you were self-serving, but you've sacrificed once already to protect Naboo, creating that planetary shield. I still don't like your jokes about Auswählen, but you've shown you're willing to do what it takes."

Padmé, taking a deep breath, stepped forward to close the collective encouragement. "You heard it, Gojo Satoru. From them, and from me—as Queen Amidala and your employer. Don't forget to bring back the loot… and come back alive!" Her voice, strong and unwavering, carried the hopes of everyone in the room, a beacon of light amidst the encroaching darkness.

As the echoes of support and belief from Theed Castle reached Gojo, a grin spread across his face amidst the vast expanse of space above the crumbling landscape of Katarr. The Eternal Fleet loomed before him, an overwhelming display of firepower and might, but Gojo stood unfazed, bolstered by the voices of those who believed in him. The hologram of Valkorion flickered beside him, the ancient emperor's expression shifting to one of confusion at the sudden shift in Gojo's demeanor.

"What are you planning, Gojo Satoru?" Valkorion demanded, his tone edged with frustration as he sensed an impending shift in the battle.

Gojo simply smirked, his confidence unshaken. "Hey, failed emperor, are you sure you have enough ships?"

Valkorion's brow furrowed, confusion flashing across his regal features. "What do you mean by that? Enough ships for what?"

Without missing a beat, Gojo began to chant, his voice steady and resonant, echoing across the void. "Nine Ropes." "Polarized Light." "Crow and Declaration." "Between Front and Back." As he spoke, a massive surge of energy began to gather at his fingertips, forming an intense, swirling sphere of Hollow Purple—its brilliance like a small, dark star, radiating an otherworldly, vibrant purple that seemed to warp the very fabric of space around it. The energy pulsed, growing denser and more volatile with each passing second, crackling with raw power as if it could tear through reality itself.

Valkorion's eyes widened as he recognized the immense threat of the attack. "Defensive formation, now!" he barked, dismissing his hologram and mobilizing his fleet with the urgency of a commander who knew he was facing a power beyond conventional reckoning. The Eternal Fleet, a collection of 2,000 formidable ships, scrambled to form a protective barrier around the Eternal Command Ship, where Valkorion resided. The Eternal Wrath, the secondary flagship designed to counter powerful adversaries like Gojo, deployed its advanced anti-Force measures, projecting fields meant to weaken Gojo Satoru's power.

But there was a critical flaw in their defense—Gojo's attack wasn't Force-based. It transcended the mechanics of the dark side and the light, drawing on a power that defied conventional understanding. As the fleet repositioned, Gojo pointed his fingers forward, his voice booming across the battlefield, "Hollow Technique: 200 Percent Purple!"

The sphere of Hollow Purple shot forth from Gojo's hand, hurtling towards the fleet with the ferocity of a supernova. As it tore through the void, the sphere expanded, glowing with an intensity that rivaled a small star, a purple beacon of sheer destruction. Upon impact, the Hollow Purple erupted, its energy cascading outwards in a cataclysmic wave that engulfed everything in its path.

The first to fall were the Eternal Fleet warship Battlecruisers, their heavy turbolasers and multi-layered deflector shields crumbling under the sheer force of the blast. Their reinforced hulls, built to withstand the harshest of battles, melted away as if made of paper, disintegrating in a flash of violet light.

Terminus -Class Destroyers, balanced perfectly between offense and defense, were torn apart in the blast. Their advanced shielding and energy beam projectors flickered and failed, unable to contain the immense destructive power of the Hollow Purple. The ships, caught mid-maneuver, disintegrated in seconds, their tactical jump capabilities rendered meaningless against the all-encompassing blast.

Ardent -Class Frigates, meant to protect the fleet and provide anti-starfighter coverage, were vaporized where they stood. Their rapid-fire laser cannons and reactive shield generators overloaded, causing catastrophic failures that left them defenseless against the consuming energy. Flak cannons burst like fireworks, adding to the chaos as the frigates were reduced to twisted, glowing wreckage.

Phantom-Class Corvettes, designed for agility and speed, stood no chance. Despite their hit-and-run tactics and high-speed shields, they were shredded by the expanding sphere, their nimble forms erased in an instant. Plasma repeaters and light laser cannons were obliterated as if they had never existed, the corvettes' electronic warfare pods failing to disrupt the raw force of Gojo's attack.

Specter-Class Support Ships, usually kept behind the front lines to provide logistical support and repairs, were caught in the maelstrom. Their sophisticated electronic warfare suites and repair drones disintegrated along with the ships themselves, leaving no trace of their once vital support roles within the fleet.

In total, 200 ships were destroyed in the blink of an eye, their remains scattered across the void as if they had been struck by a miniature supernova. The fleet, once a symbol of Valkorion's unassailable power, now lay in ruins, decimated by Gojo's unrelenting might.

The Eternal Command Ship, shielded by the collective effort of the fleet, managed to remain intact, its absorption shields barely holding against the blast. However, the Eternal Wrath was not as fortunate. Despite its adaptive shielding and enhanced mobility, it was too close to the epicenter of the explosion. Its hull was severely compromised, systems flickering and failing as damage reports flooded in. Gravestone's Multi-Vector Assault Mode proved insufficient against the raw, otherworldly power of Hollow Purple, leaving the ship limping and vulnerable.

Valkorion sat on his Eternal Throne, the vast expanse of the command ship's bridge illuminated by the flickering lights of his remaining fleet. The scene outside was a stark contrast to the emperor's usual dominion; the once-proud fleet, now reduced to drifting debris, spoke of a humiliation Valkorion had not known in millennia. The violet glow of Gojo's Hollow Purple had faded, but the scars it left on Valkorion's pride and power were painfully fresh.

Gojo stood defiant amidst the wreckage, his presence like a beacon of unchallenged power against the backdrop of a shattered armada. His grin was unbroken as he locked eyes with the Eternal Command Ship, sensing Valkorion's gaze upon him. With a voice that carried both mockery and an undeniable authority, Gojo taunted, "Looks like there's something I need to clarify for you, Valkorion. You're just a challenger of this new era."

Valkorion seethed, his mind racing as he assessed the damage. Out of the original 2,000 ships, only 1,800 remained—still a formidable force, but the impact of Gojo's assault had dealt a blow not just to his fleet, but to his pride. His thoughts churned with frustration, his grip tightening on the armrests of his throne as he tried to regain control of the situation.

as he processed the taunt. "This silver-haired brat…" he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with disbelief and fury. "Does he truly believe I am nothing more than a relic, a forgotten artifact of the past?" Valkorion's mind raced, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of rage and reluctant admiration. "He speaks as if he's already claimed dominion over the galaxy, as if my rule is nothing but an old legend he intends to replace."

The emperor's eyes narrowed, the sting of Gojo's words piercing through his composed facade. "How dare he… How dare he stand there and dismiss me, Valkorion—the ruler of empires, the one who has transcended life and death—as if I am just another adversary to be vanquished." His voice was low, simmering with anger, yet underpinned by a begrudging recognition of Gojo's strength.

"He doesn't fight like the Sith or the Jedi," Valkorion continued, his gaze fixed on the figure of Gojo amidst the floating wreckage. "He wields a power that doesn't conform to the Force, a strength that bends and shatters the rules I have mastered. To him, I'm just a name from a history book—a challenge he's already met and bested."

Valkorion's grip tightened, the metal of his throne creaking under the pressure. "This 'challenger of the new era'… He thinks he's already the master of this galaxy, that his power is absolute." His mind churned with strategies, grasping for a way to regain the upper hand against a foe that defied all conventional understanding.

"He is an outsider," Valkorion reminded himself, trying to reignite his shaken confidence. "But if he believes he can erase me, if he thinks he can reduce me to a mere footnote in his rise, then he will learn the cost of challenging the Eternal Empe—"

Suddenly, Valkorion's thoughts were cut off as Gojo's voice boomed across the battlefield. "Yo, do you think you have time for daydreaming?" Gojo taunted, his voice filled with mocking amusement. With a swift motion, Gojo activated Limitless: Lapse Blue, the immense gravitational force of his technique causing five ships to collide violently with another five, crushing and tearing them apart in an instant, their armored hulls crumpling like paper.

Valkorion's eyes flared with rage as he watched his fleet continue to suffer under Gojo's relentless assault. Desperation clawed at him, driving him to action. "All ships, focus fire! Combine your blasters—use everything we have!" Valkorion commanded. The Eternal Command Ship, alongside the remaining Eternal Fleet warship  Battlecruisers and Terminus -Class Destroyers, powered up their weapons, converging their energy into a massive, unified beam. The blast, comparable to the destructive force needed to annihilate a large planet, surged forward with blinding intensity, aiming straight at Gojo.

Gojo, unperturbed by the incoming cataclysmic blast, raised his left hand. In the palm of his hand, an eye with two yellow pupils opened, radiating a menacing glow. He smirked and calmly declared, "Maximum Reversal: Crimson."

A sphere of Miniature Sun , searing red energy erupted from his palm, so intense it made his previous attacks pale in comparison. The beam from the Eternal Fleet collided with the Crimson Reversal, and for a moment, it seemed as though the energy of a dying star clashed against an immovable force. But then, the red energy of Gojo's technique expanded violently, splitting the massive planet-destroying beam in two as if it were nothing more than a fragile thread.

The Crimson energy surged forward, more vivid and blinding than Limitless: Red, the sheer brightness piercing through the darkness of space. It roared past the divided beam, crashing into the Eternal Throne Command Ship. The impact sent shockwaves rippling across the entire vessel, causing systems to flicker and shields to crack under the strain. The Eternal Wrath, caught partially in the blast's wake, was heavily damaged, its hull scorched and ruptured, struggling to maintain operational integrity.

Valkorion gritted his teeth, his ship rocked by the immense force of Gojo's attack. His confidence, shaken but not broken, fueled his defiance. "He calls me the challenger, as if I'm the one who must prove myself!" Valkorion snarled, his voice echoing with a mix of rage and determination. "I am no challenger—I am Valkorion, the one who has already conquered the galaxy once, and I will do so again! You think yourself the master of this era, Gojo Satoru? I will remind you that this galaxy is mine, and I am no relic to be cast aside!"

But as the ship's alarms blared and the damage reports flooded in, Valkorion felt the weight of Gojo's challenge pressing against his reign, a force that could not be so easily dismissed. Gojo stood unyielding, a challenger who had already upended the balance, forcing Valkorion to confront the reality of a power that not only rivaled his own but seemed poised to redefine the rules of supremacy in a galaxy that had long been his domain.

Valkorion's frustration boiled over as he watched Gojo Satoru effortlessly counter his fleet's most powerful attack. Desperation mixed with rage as he barked new orders across the bridge of the Eternal Command Ship. "Launch half of our entire starships at Gojo Satoru! Swarm him, disorient him—make him confused!" Valkorion's voice was sharp, commanding, each word a testament to his refusal to back down. His fleet moved in response, a mass of starships converging on Gojo like a tidal wave of metal and energy.

As Valkorion gazed at Gojo, he noted the shimmering barrier that surrounded him—a force field of immense power, unlike any shield he had ever encountered. "What is this barrier?" Valkorion muttered to himself, frustration lacing his voice. "It's stronger than anything I've ever seen." He couldn't identify it by name, but the sheer resilience and perfection of the defense were undeniable. "Focus on disorienting him. I'll deal with that barrier later."

Despite the overwhelming swarm of starships, Gojo seemed unbothered by the impending threat. He stood calmly, his gaze drifting to his right arm. Darkness swirled around it, and the eye on the back of his hand was open, a manifestation of Mimihagi's stillness power. The presence of this ancient, otherworldly force didn't disturb him; rather, it intrigued him.

Inspecting his arm, Gojo mused aloud, his tone contemplative. "My left arm was designed for evolution governance, and enhancing my Red. I wonder what my Blue can do when combined with stillness." He continued to ignore the encroaching fleet, entirely focused on the potential of his powers.

With a calm yet commanding declaration, Gojo raised his right arm, channeling the combined force of his powers. "Maximum Lapse: Azure."

The air around him rippled, and an immense sphere of energy formed at his fingertips. It was much larger and more potent than his typical Blue—a colossal mass of condensed gravitational force. However, this time it wasn't just an extension of his power; it was enhanced by the trait of stillness, granted by Mimihagi's presence. The sphere pulsed with an ominous, unyielding glow, its azure light saturating the space around it.

As the sphere expanded, it exhibited a new characteristic: it would not dissipate. The energy of Blue, combined with stillness, meant that this force would persist indefinitely, defying the natural entropy that usually limited such attacks. It was as if Gojo had unleashed an eternal singularity, a gravitational anomaly that would endure as long as he willed it.

The starships that Valkorion had sent forth to disorient Gojo were immediately caught in the pull of Maximum Lapse: Azure. Their formations disintegrated as the ships were dragged inexorably toward the center of the gravitational force, colliding with one another or being crushed outright by the relentless pressure. Hulls crumpled, shields shattered, and energy beams were twisted off course, spiraling into the maw of the indestructible Azure sphere.

The sky was filled with the glowing remnants of the fallen ships, their lights snuffed out one by one as the sphere continued to grow, absorbing and crushing anything in its path. Even the mightiest of Valkorion's vessels were powerless against this combination of limitless pull and unending stillness. The Eternal Command Ship shuddered under the proximity of the devastating force, its shields groaning but holding for now, though Valkorion knew they were dangerously close to failure.

Gojo's eyes gleamed as he observed the carnage wrought by his new power. His grip on reality and the laws of the universe seemed ever more tenuous, as he wielded forces that defied understanding and exceeded all boundaries of known power. The sphere, ever-present and unyielding, consumed the space around him, an extension of his will and a testament to his newfound mastery.

Valkorion's fury peaked as he witnessed Gojo Satoru dismantling his fleet with a nonchalant ease that bordered on contempt. In a desperate bid to regain control, he bellowed, "Initiate emergency slipspace jump—now!" The Eternal Fleet reacted immediately, executing a tactical retreat that teleported them 1 kilometer away from Gojo, far enough to escape the devastating pull of Maximum Lapse: Azure.

Gojo watched with mild amusement as the fleet reappeared at a distance. He dismissed the Maximum Azure with a casual flick of his hand, the immense sphere dissolving into nothingness as if it had never existed. Stretching his arms, Gojo smirked. "Now it's time to really have some fun, huh?"

As the Eternal Fleet completed their teleportation, Valkorion scanned the battlefield, searching for Gojo's location. Before he could pinpoint the sorcerer's position, a sudden explosion erupted nearby. Three Eternal Fleet warship Battlecruisers were violently pierced by colossal arrows—gigantic, ethereal spears that glowed with an eerie, radiant energy. The battlecruisers crumbled under the impact, their reinforced hulls offering no resistance to the onslaught.

Gojo had summoned his Sankt Bogen, an enormous, spectral bow that radiated an otherworldly light. With it, he unleashed a relentless storm of Heilig Pfeil—thousands of glowing arrows that rained down upon the fleet like a divine judgment. Each arrow was a streak of brilliant energy, a fusion of ethereal force and sheer destructive power. They tore through Valkorion's starships as though they were made of paper, each impact a cataclysmic explosion that sent debris scattering across the void.

Battlecruisers, Destroyers, Frigates, and Corvettes fell in rapid succession, their once-impenetrable defenses useless against the barrage of Heilig Pfeil. Valkorion's fleet, so meticulously assembled and feared across the galaxy, was now reduced to chaos and ruin. Gojo's arrows struck with unerring accuracy, cleaving through ship after ship, turning the battle into a one-sided massacre. Within minutes, the fleet's numbers had dwindled to 1,100, the rest lost to Gojo's merciless attack.

As the smoke and wreckage began to clear, Gojo found himself surrounded by the remaining 1,100 ships. Their weapons systems locked onto him from every conceivable angle, poised to deliver a full-scale assault. Valkorion, seizing the opportunity, roared, "All ships, fire! From every direction! Make sure this attack hits—don't let him escape!"

A synchronized storm of energy erupted from the fleet, converging on Gojo with the force of a thousand suns. Plasma bolts, energy beams, and missiles streaked through space, a blinding deluge of destructive power aimed directly at him. The barrage struck Gojo's position with explosive intensity, the combined might of 1,100 ships focused into a single, guaranteed strike. The void was illuminated by the relentless assault, each impact sending shockwaves through the surrounding space.

Gojo stood amidst the onslaught, watching the incoming fire with a bemused expression. His Limitless Barrier shimmered to life, effortlessly absorbing the barrage. The attacks, meant to obliterate any foe, collided with the barrier and dissipated harmlessly, their energy scattered like droplets on a windowpane. Gojo remained untouched, his barrier holding firm against the combined fury of Valkorion's fleet.

"Not bad, Valkorion," Gojo mused, his tone light, almost teasing. The spectacle of the fleet's most concentrated effort failing to breach his defenses seemed to amuse him more than anything. As the last of the barrage faded, Gojo's barrier stood unmarred, a testament to his unmatched power.

Valkorion, watching from the command deck of his ship, felt a mix of frustration and stubborn defiance. His expression twisted with a manic determination as he declared, "I am Valkorion, the Eternal Emperor! I have ruled galaxies, bent the Force to my will, and transcended life and death itself! This galaxy will bow to me once again. I will not be overthrown by a mere pretender who dares to challenge my reign."

Valkorion's declaration echoed through the command deck, his words brimming with the confidence of an emperor who had ruled galaxies and transcended mortality itself. He stared at Gojo with burning defiance, determined to reassert his dominion over the galaxy. "You think yourself the master of this era, Gojo Satoru? You are nothing more than an intruder in a realm I have already conquered. I will reclaim what is mine, and I will crush all who oppose me!"

Gojo, floating amidst the wreckage, let out a light chuckle at Valkorion's grand speech. His expression was one of amused disdain as he glanced towards the Eternal Emperor's command ship. "Nice speech, Valkorion. Really stirring stuff. Wish I had a trophy to hand out for poetry slams."

The mocking tone cut through the void, a reminder that Gojo was as much a master of taunts as he was of combat. His irreverence was a sharp contrast to the seriousness of the battle, underscoring his confidence that Valkorion's threats were empty in the face of true power.

Gojo's expression shifted from mocking to focused as he extended his hand, the air around him rippling with a subtle but profound shift in reality. "Let's make this even more interesting. Curse Zone: Null."

With those words, the space around Gojo changed dramatically. An invisible field expanded outward, emanating from him like a silent, all-encompassing wave. The Curse Zone: Null, a technique that twisted the very fabric of existence, created an infinite barrier that nullified all forces within its domain. It was as though time itself had frozen, with every energy blast, plasma bolt, and missile hanging in mid-air, unable to move or exert any force.

Valkorion's fleet, poised to unleash a guaranteed strike against Gojo, suddenly found its entire arsenal rendered inert. The massive array of destructive power that had converged on Gojo was now suspended in the void, each weapon frozen in place as if caught in a timeless stasis. To the onlookers, it was as if the battlefield had been paused, each ship, beam, and missile locked in an unending moment.

The Curse Zone: Null extended further, reaching out to the ships themselves. The once-mighty vessels, engines roaring and weapons primed, now hung motionless in space, their systems unable to function. The laws of physics within the zone were no longer applicable; gravity could not pull, energy could not vibrate, and movement itself was impossible. Every ship within the zone was trapped in a state of absolute stillness, save for Valkorion himself.

Valkorion, still mobile and aware, watched with growing disbelief as the entirety of his fleet was caught in Gojo's unyielding field. The grand assault he had hoped would bring Gojo down was now a display of suspended impotence, his mighty warships and their weapons reduced to mere ornaments in the void. Suddenly, he felt a jolt—his ship's hull had been breached, and there, landing near the Eternal Throne where Valkorion sat, was Gojo Satoru.

Gojo stood with a relaxed confidence, eyes scanning the grandiose throne room as if it were nothing more than a quaint exhibit. He locked eyes with Valkorion, his expression a mixture of amusement and disdain. "You once told someone, 'I hold the patience of stone and the will of stars. There is no death; there is only the Force—and I am its master.' Quite good quotes," Gojo remarked, his voice dripping with mockery. "Now I've got a question for you—and your other two clones, including Vitiate and Tenebrae." Gojo's grin widened as he leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "What happens when I am above all of those?"

As he finished, Gojo proudly revealed his Rikugan—his six eyes, each with four pupils glimmering with a mysterious and overwhelming power. The sight of the Rikugan was like staring into the abyss of limitless potential, a power that seemed to challenge the very fabric of existence. Each eye radiated a sense of control, of an understanding that extended beyond the mere physical and into the realms of the absolute.

Valkorion's thoughts churned with a volatile mix of jealousy and fury. How does he know about my aspect self ? How could he possibly know the name of my original body? Valkorion seethed internally, his composed facade cracking under the weight of Gojo's taunts. The knowledge that Gojo not only knew of his secrets but dismissed them with such ease was a dagger to his pride.

His mind, usually sharp and calculating, was clouded by a surge of indignation. This insolent fool, this outsider dares to claim superiority over the Eternal Emperor? Over Vitiate and Tenebrae, names that have commanded fear and reverence across millennia? Valkorion's grip tightened on the armrests of his throne, the metal groaning under the pressure of his wrath.

"You… dare to speak as if you stand above the Force itself," Valkorion hissed, his voice dripping with venomous contempt. His eyes blazed with a dark, consuming rage, every ounce of his power and authority focused into his glare at Gojo. "You wield your power as if the laws that govern this universe are mere playthings. But I am Valkorion, the Eternal Emperor! My will has shaped the stars, my command has bent the galaxy to its knees! I am no mere adversary to be toyed with."

Before Valkorion could continue his tirade, Gojo suddenly closed the distance between them with a speed that defied comprehension. "You talk too much," Gojo remarked, his voice calm but tinged with a mocking edge. In an instant, Gojo's fist connected with Valkorion's chest, the strike crackling with black lightning—a Black Flash. The impact was augmented by an unimaginable force, increasing the hit's power by 2.5 times its normal strength.

The punch hit with a devastating force that ripped through Valkorion's defenses. The Eternal Emperor was violently launched from his throne, crashing into the wall with a force that shook the entire command deck. Valkorion's vision blurred as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened. He felt a sharp pain radiate through his body, and a taste of copper filled his mouth as he spat blood, a dark bruise already forming where Gojo had struck.

I definitely created a Force field, Valkorion thought in stunned disbelief, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the attack. But he passed through it like it was nothing more than paper.

Valkorion's defenses, which had held firm against countless adversaries, had crumpled under Gojo's Black Flash as though they were mere illusions. It wasn't just the physical damage that stunned Valkorion—it was the sheer disregard Gojo had shown for his barriers, the casual way he had bypassed protections that had stood against entire armies.

Gojo stood over Valkorion, his four pupil Rikugan eyes gleaming with an unsettling calmness. The black lightning still crackled faintly around his fist, the residual energy of the Black Flash fading slowly. "For someone who claims to be the master of the universe, you sure seem fragile," Gojo taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "You talk about bending the galaxy to your will, but right now, it looks like you're struggling to even stay on your feet."

Valkorion, still reeling from the impact of Gojo's Black Flash, struggled to his feet, his body aching and bruised. His mind raced, desperately trying to formulate a plan to buy time for his ritual on Zakuul to reach completion. This ritual, far grander in scale than the one on Nathema, involved 16,000 Sith Lords along with his aspects, Vitiate and Tenebrae. Once complete, the ritual would merge all his aspects into a unified form, granting him the ultimate power he sought.

I just need to hold him off a little longer… once the ritual is complete— Valkorion thought, clinging to the hope that his impending power boost could turn the tide.

But before he could finish his thought, Gojo interrupted with a mocking laugh. "You know, using 16,000 Sith Lords on Zakuul—a barren rock with nothing but your history as a failed emperor? I can only say one thing: do you want to explodeeee?" Gojo's voice dripped with amusement, his four pupil Rikugan eyes watching Valkorion with a mix of pity and derision.

Valkorion's thoughts were thrown into disarray. He knows about my plan… How? And did he just mock me for my haste and desperation? Valkorion's frustration surged. The precision and arrogance in Gojo's words stung more than the physical blows. Every carefully laid scheme, every ritual, every aspect of his plan to reclaim his lost glory was unraveling under the relentless onslaught of Gojo's power and mockery.

The thought of Zakuul, his once-great capital now reduced to a stage for yet another desperate gamble, gnawed at Valkorion. Gojo's taunt hit a nerve, highlighting the emptiness of his ambitions. A barren planet… my empire reduced to nothing but memories and a futile ritual. Valkorion's grip tightened, anger boiling over as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Gojo, sensing Valkorion's turmoil, continued to press. "You think gathering all that power will somehow make a difference? You're stuck in the past, clinging to the scraps of a legacy that doesn't mean anything anymore. You've already lost, Valkorion. Your grand rituals and desperate grasps at power are just the last gasps of a forgotten relic."

Gojo's words cut through Valkorion's mounting frustration like a blade, each taunt striking at the heart of his carefully laid plans. But when Gojo continued, his voice now tinged with an air of decisive finality, Valkorion felt the full weight of the sorcerer's audacity.

"Therefore, as the Honored One and the current master of this era, I'll help your shit a bit," Gojo said, his four pupil Rikugan eyes glowing with a chilling confidence. Before Valkorion could react, Gojo activated the Almighty, manipulating the future with a precision that defied understanding. Using Future Acausality, a sub-ability of the Almighty, Gojo instantly transported them all—Valkorion, Vitiate, Tenebrae, the 16,000 Sith Lords, and himself—to the desolate plains of Ambria, a location notorious for its dark side energies.

Gojo's voice echoed across the barren landscape. "I've already helped your shit; now, let's talk. That ritual of yours probably needs an hour to complete here on Ambria, so why not have a little chat in the meantime?"

With a casual wave of his hand, Gojo used his matter manipulation to conjure two elegant chairs and a simple table between them. The setup was absurdly out of place against the backdrop of dark sands and the lingering aura of despair that clung to Ambria's surface. Gojo nonchalantly took a seat, gesturing for Valkorion to do the same.

Valkorion's mind was a whirlwind of fury and disbelief. This arrogant punk… he thought, glaring at Gojo with barely concealed rage. But beneath the anger, Valkorion understood the gravity of the situation. Gojo was no ordinary opponent—his power exceeded anything Valkorion had ever encountered, and the sorcerer had already demonstrated his ability to upend Valkorion's plans with ease. Even the slightest provocation could lead Gojo to disrupt the ritual, which was now crucial for Valkorion's survival and ultimate supremacy.

I have no choice, Valkorion conceded internally, his gaze narrowing as he regarded the casually seated Gojo. This man could end everything with a flick of his wrist if he so desired. Despite his seething pride and desire to lash out, Valkorion forced himself to maintain the composure befitting an emperor. He slowly approached the table, his movements deliberate and measured, each step a testament to his iron will and determination to reclaim his power.

With an air of reluctant dignity, Valkorion took his seat opposite Gojo, every fiber of his being resisting the urge to strike. He adjusted his posture, reminding himself of his status as the Eternal Emperor of Zakuul, a title that had once commanded awe and fear across the galaxy. The ritual's energies buzzed faintly in the distance, the combined power of 16,000 Sith Lords palpable, yet dwarfed by the overwhelming presence of the man sitting across from him.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched Valkorion wrestle with the situation. "You know, it's not every day I get to have tea time with an emperor. But hey, here we are." His tone was light, almost playful, but the underlying edge was unmistakable. Valkorion was in no position to argue or assert his dominance; for now, he was at the mercy of Gojo's whims.

Valkorion steadied himself, suppressing the rage that threatened to boil over. For now, I'll play along, he resolved, his mind already calculating the next moves he could make once the ritual was complete. Let this Honored One enjoy his little game. Once I have the power I need, he will see what it means to challenge the Eternal Emperor.

As Valkorion reluctantly settled into his chair, Gojo's mocking grin widened. Leaning back comfortably, Gojo stared at the Emperor with those piercing four pupil Rikugan eyes, clearly enjoying the tension radiating from Valkorion. "Yo, failed emperor," Gojo began, his voice dripping with mockery. "Can you explain the difference between this ritual on Zakuul and that old Nathema stunt you pulled? That one took ten days, but now you're rushing to get it done in, what, three hours? And I'm guessing you doubled the quantity, right? Those Sith Lords you've gathered must be high-end grade. Also, what's the deal with the maintenance? What's the difference, and what's the benefit of each one?"

Valkorion's eyes narrowed, masking his initial confusion behind the practiced composure of an emperor. "Maintenance?" he echoed, his voice taking on the tone of an emperor who commanded respect. "Maintenance… Such a concept is beneath me, as an emperor who commands the Force and transcends mortal limitations."

Gojo, unimpressed, rolled his eyes. "Oyyy, you need to absorb again, right? How long before you break?" Gojo's shout echoed across the barren landscape, piercing through Valkorion's facade. The words struck at the core of Valkorion's carefully constructed image of invincibility, reminding him that his so-called eternal power had its own fragility.

Inwardly, Valkorion seethed, his thoughts a whirlwind of rage. This arrogant punk… this fucking insolent brat dares to mock the Eternal Emperor of Zakuul? Valkorion clenched his fists, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of Gojo's relentless taunting.

But Valkorion was no ordinary Sith—he was a master of manipulation, a figure of boundless charisma, and a ruler whose presence could sway entire star systems. He adjusted his posture, allowing a veneer of calm to settle over his features as he began to speak. "You misunderstand the nature of my power," Valkorion said, his voice resonating with the authority of an emperor. "The ritual on Nathema was but a precursor, a necessary step to ascend beyond the bounds of mortality. It was an experiment—a means to strip the Force from a world, to fuel my ascendancy and become more than just a ruler of men, but a god among beings."

He paused, letting his words hang in the air like a challenge. "This new ritual on Zakuul is a refinement. The number of Sith Lords has been doubled, their power honed to perfection, their loyalty unquestionable. It is not just about absorbing energy; it is about reclaiming my rightful place as the supreme being in this galaxy. This process, however swift, is not a mere rush—it is the culmination of centuries of planning and the sacrifice of thousands. It is a testament to my greatness."

Valkorion's eyes gleamed with a calculated intensity as he continued, weaving his words with the practiced skill of a master orator. "And as for the so-called maintenance, such concerns are trivial. My power does not 'wane' as you suggest. It is a perpetual cycle, one that renews and strengthens me with each ritual. I do not need to scramble for sustenance like a starving beast—I command the Force to my will, bending it to serve my needs. I am Valkorion, the Eternal Emperor, and the galaxy itself is but a tool for my ascension."

Valkorion ended his speech with a flourish, his gaze locked onto Gojo, daring him to challenge the weight of his words. For Valkorion, this was not just a battle of power; it was a reassertion of his identity, a reminder that even in the presence of a being as formidable as Gojo Satoru, he remained the ruler who had once bent the galaxy to his will.

Gojo, however, remained unfazed. Leaning back in his conjured chair, he stared at Valkorion with his four pupil Rikugan eyes, the smug amusement never leaving his face. "Yeah, but I still haven't got my answer," Gojo pressed, his tone a mixture of mockery and genuine curiosity. "You need to absorb again before you're dead of decay. That Nathema stunt took ten days, but now you're pulling it off on Ambria in just three hours? And let's not even get started on Zakuul. If you try that crazy shit there, you'll end up with nothing but a memorial stone. So, tell me, how long before you need to absorb again with that amount of quantity?"

Valkorion's expression tightened slightly, though he tried to keep his composure intact. His thoughts, however, were in turmoil. This brat is pressing me, he thought, the frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. The truth was that the ritual on Ambria was far from the perfect process he was presenting it to be. It was rushed, with far greater chances of failure. Even if it succeeded, the effects wouldn't last forever—at best, it would stave off his need for another ritual for a few decades. But there was no way he was going to admit that to Gojo.

"I'll indulge your curiosity," Valkorion said, his voice laced with the imperious confidence of an emperor who still believed in his own invincibility. "The ritual on Nathema was but a preliminary step, a foundational piece in my ascension. What I am conducting on Ambria is a perfected version, refined and honed through my unmatched understanding of the Force. Unlike Nathema, this ritual is optimized—it requires only three hours because of its precision, not haste."

He continued, his words flowing with a practiced ease that belied the lie beneath. "The increased quantity of Sith Lords is not a sign of desperation but a testament to the quality and loyalty of my followers. This ritual will secure my power permanently; there will be no need for future absorption. It's designed to elevate me beyond the limits of any being—immortal, unchallenged, supreme."

Valkorion's gaze intensified, daring Gojo to see through the falsehood. He couldn't let the brat grasp the reality—that he was clinging to the last vestiges of power with a ritual that was as much a gamble as a strategy. Even if it works, it's not perfect, he admitted to himself, a thought buried deep beneath his outward facade. It's rushed, unstable, and even if it buys me time, it's only a temporary fix. But I can't let him know that.

Gojo's reaction was instantaneous. He burst into a fit of laughter, a sound that echoed with a blend of Mutahar's booming laugh and Risitas' infamous wheezing chuckle from YouTube fame. "PFFTTT AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Gojo wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing. "Do you want to be a comedian? Because you're nailing it!" His tone was laced with mockery, slicing through Valkorion's veneer of calm with ease.

Gojo then raised his hand, revealing a glowing bubble filled with Valkorion's 1,200 remaining Eternal Fleet ships, including the two flagships—the Command and Wrath ships. "I'll take this as the first round of our brawl, and the reward for saving your ass and transporting all of your shit from Zakuul to Ambria. Good luck with your rushed ritual!" With that, Gojo turned and began to walk away, leaving Valkorion seething in silence.

Valkorion's face contorted with fury, his eyes burning with rage. But he kept it all contained, knowing that any outburst would only feed Gojo's mockery. The Eternal Emperor of Zakuul, reduced to biting his tongue in the face of a being who defied all his expectations and shattered the illusion of his unassailable power. The ritual's energy thrummed in the background, a reminder of his last-ditch hope, even as Gojo's laughter faded into the distance.

This brat… Valkorion thought bitterly, his fists clenched tightly under the table. His rage simmered, but he knew better than to let it show. For now, he needed to focus on the ritual—his only shot at reclaiming his place in the galaxy and proving that, despite Gojo's taunts, the Eternal Emperor would not be dethroned so easily.