Chapter 7

Satoru and Kakine stood at the entrance of the mountain, their initial tension giving way to confusion as they realized there was no grand obstacle awaiting them. The barrier they had anticipated shattering or bypassing had not resisted their approach. Instead, it had simply dissolved, revealing a tunnel carved into the mountain's heart, lined with cold steel and concrete, not the natural rock they had expected.

"Well, that was easy," Kakine muttered, though his tone was laced with suspicion. He wasn't one to let his guard down so easily, especially not when things seemed to be going too smoothly. A single drop of sweat trickled down his brow, his instincts screaming that something was off.

Satoru nodded, equally unsettled. "A little too easy," he echoed, his voice trailing off as he scanned the area with a cautious eye. The tunnel before them was too pristine, too well-maintained for something hidden away beneath a mountain. The oppressive energy that had surrounded the area now felt less like a barrier meant to keep intruders out and more like a veil, a carefully constructed illusion to mask the true nature of what lay within.

"This isn't just a mountain," Satoru murmured, his voice lowering as if speaking louder might break the fragile calm around them. "That energy wasn't meant to block us—it was disguising this place." His six eyes, concealed behind the bandana, now honed in on the intricate web of magic that had been woven around the tunnel. The realization sent a chill down his spine. Whoever had constructed this labyrinth hadn't intended for intruders to be kept out; they had wanted them to walk right into the trap.

Kakine's eyes narrowed as he peered into the darkness ahead. The tunnel seemed to stretch on endlessly, its walls smooth and unmarked, devoid of any indication of what might lie within. He could feel the oppressive weight of the place pressing down on them, a sense of foreboding that gnawed at the edges of his mind. "The kid's somewhere in here," he said, his voice firm but with an undercurrent of concern. His thoughts were focused on Index, her small form bound and helpless, somewhere deep within this twisted fortress.

Satoru nodded, his expression sharpening as he reached out with his senses. "That barrier was what kept me from seeing her with my six eyes earlier," he explained. Now that they were inside, the obstruction was gone, and his ability to perceive the world in its truest form was restored. The problem was, the vast network of tunnels and chambers that stretched out before them made it nearly impossible to pinpoint her exact location. Whoever had built this place had gone to great lengths to ensure it would be difficult, if not impossible, to navigate.

"Why six eyes?" Kakine suddenly asked, his tone more curious than accusatory, but the suspicion in his gaze was clear. He eyed Satoru with an expression that was almost comically distrustful, as if trying to piece together the mystery of the man beside him.

Satoru turned to him with a look of exaggerated shock, his mouth dropping open in mock offense. "What's with the look?!" he shrieked, clutching his chest as if wounded by the accusation. The dramatic display was so out of place in their grim surroundings that it almost felt surreal.

The air within the tunnel had been tense before, but now it thickened with an oppressive force that neither Satoru nor Kakine had anticipated. A dominating wave of misty green energy surged through the narrow passage, its presence overwhelming and suffocating. Kakine's spine tingled with a fear he hadn't felt in a long time, while Satoru, the man who prided himself on being the strongest, found himself sweating nervously.

It wasn't Cursed Energy—of that, Satoru was certain. He had faced countless forms of malevolent power in his life, but this… this was something entirely different. It felt ancient, like the breath of a god that had slumbered for millennia, now stirring in the dark heart of the mountain. The energy was so dense, so all-encompassing, that it seemed to seep into their very pores, making each breath a laborious task. It was as if they were inhaling fire, the searing heat of it burning them from the inside out.

For a moment, Satoru's usual bravado faltered. His mind raced, trying to comprehend the nature of the force that had now awakened. The pressure bore down on him, on both of them, in a way that left no room for doubt—whatever lay ahead was beyond anything they had encountered before.

'This is bad,' Satoru thought, the realization striking him with a force that nearly knocked the air from his lungs. 'This is very bad.'

The energy pulsed around them, vibrating through the tunnel walls and into their bones, a living entity that seemed to reach out with invisible tendrils, seeking to crush them under its weight. It was as though the mountain itself had come alive, responding to the dark ritual that was unfolding deep within its heart.

Kakine's fists clenched, his muscles coiling with tension as he fought against the rising tide of dread that threatened to paralyze him. He had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to face whatever challenge came his way, but this… this was something else entirely. He could feel the malevolence in the air, a raw, unfiltered power that made his instincts scream for him to turn back, to run. But the image of Index, bound and helpless, flashed through his mind, and he forced himself to push forward.

Without a word, both of them surged ahead, the need for action overriding any thoughts of retreat. They moved as one, driven by the same purpose, focusing on the source of the sickening energy that now filled the tunnel. The oppressive force seemed to intensify with each step they took, drawing them deeper into the mountain's cavernous labyrinth.

The tunnel twisted and turned, the path ahead growing narrower and more treacherous. The walls seemed to close in on them, the once smooth stone now jagged and uneven, as if the very structure of the mountain was warping under the influence of the dark power. The air grew colder, the temperature plummeting as they descended further into the heart of the mountain. Their breaths came out in frosty puffs, mingling with the green mist that swirled around them.

The oppressive energy guided them, pulling them toward its center like a beacon of dread. The deeper they went, the more the energy seemed to resonate, vibrating in harmony with their pounding hearts. Each step was a battle, each breath a struggle, but they pushed forward, determined to reach the center of the labyrinth where they knew Index was being held.

As they neared the heart of the mountain, the tunnel opened up into a massive chamber, the ceiling so high it was lost in shadows. The walls were lined with ancient runes, glowing with the same sickly green light that filled the room. In the center of the chamber stood a towering altar, carved from the very stone of the mountain, its surface covered in intricate symbols that pulsed with dark energy.

The sight of Index bound to the altar with those glowing chains was enough to make Kakine's blood run cold. The girl was motionless, her eyes dull and vacant as if the life had been drained out of her. Her small frame was dwarfed by the towering stone structure, her once-vibrant presence reduced to something fragile and fading. The chains that held her were unlike anything he had seen before, pulsating with a sickly green energy that seemed to tighten its grip with every passing second.

"Kid!" Kakine's voice rang out, desperate and filled with a raw urgency, but there was no response. Index remained limp, her body unresponsive, and for a moment, Kakine's heart clenched with the fear that they might be too late.

But before he could take a step toward her, a sharp instinct kicked in, a survival reflex honed from countless battles. He flung himself to the side, just as a loud crash shattered the tense silence of the chamber. The ground where he had stood moments ago was now a bubbling, acidic pit, the stone floor dissolving under the assault of a green, corrosive salve that hissed and steamed as it ate away at the rock.

"You're as fast as I'd assumed, both of you." The voice that echoed through the chamber was twisted and harsh, bearing little resemblance to the one they had heard before. Emerging from the shadows was Kurosaki, but the man they now faced was a grotesque parody of the one they had encountered earlier.

Satoru and Kakine stared at him with matching expressions of deadly seriousness, their instincts screaming that this was no longer a human they were dealing with. Kurosaki's appearance had changed in ways that defied reason. His eyes, once normal, were now a vivid green, their pupils glowing a sinister red. The veins that snaked along his arms and up to his face were pulsating with an unnatural rhythm, each pulse sending a sickly green glow coursing through his body. His teeth had grown longer and jagged, tearing through his gums, while his jaw had stretched and warped into something more beast than man.

"What the fuck!?" Kakine muttered, his voice barely a whisper as he took in the horrifying transformation.

Kurosaki grinned, revealing rows of sharp, serrated teeth, his lips curling back in a way that made the skin around his mouth crack and bleed. "You like?" he rasped, his voice a guttural growl that grated on the ears like nails on a chalkboard. "I am in the process of achieving a true awakening… to become the perfect god of cursed energy," he continued, his tone filled with a sickening reverence, as though he was speaking of a divine ascension rather than the monstrous transformation that was ravaging his body.

Satoru was silent, his usual light-hearted demeanor nowhere to be found as he stared at Kurosaki with a cold, calculating gaze. The sight before him was unlike anything he had ever encountered. He had faced powerful sorcerers, cursed spirits, and beings that defied the laws of nature, but this… this was something else entirely. Kurosaki's cursed energy was no longer just a power—it was a living, mutating force that was consuming him from the inside out. Years of reckless exposure to the foreign energy he had sought to master had twisted his cursed energy into something unnatural, something that was now manifesting in his very flesh.

"Trust me, Kurosaki," Satoru finally spoke, his voice even, yet carrying an undercurrent of disgust. "You're the furthest thing from perfect."

He didn't say anything about the god part. Something about the way Kurosaki had spoken, the way he had claimed that title so confidently, made Satoru hesitate. It wasn't fear—it was something more instinctual, a deep-seated recognition that whatever Kurosaki was becoming was something beyond the realm of mere mortals or cursed spirits. And that thought alone repulsed him.

Kurosaki's twisted grin only deepened as he continued to taunt Satoru, his voice laced with dark amusement. "You're just afraid to admit it, Gojo," he sneered, taking a deliberate step forward, the ground beneath him warping and twisting as if the very earth was recoiling from the monstrous energy emanating from his body. "Afraid to admit that you are no longer the strongest, that someone else has surpassed you, someone who isn't one of your precious students. But that's okay. I'm a generous man."

The green energy surrounding Kurosaki flared even brighter, casting a blinding light that stretched the shadows in the chamber into long, grotesque shapes, as if the walls themselves were trying to escape the horror they enclosed. "I understand the repulsion that comes with admitting something so simple for a man as arrogant as yourself." His voice was almost mocking, dripping with a satisfaction that made Satoru's skin crawl.

The air grew heavier with every word Kurosaki spoke, thickening with a suffocating stench of rot and decay. It was as if the very essence of life was being sucked out of the chamber, replaced by a malevolent force that fed on everything pure and natural. Satoru could feel it—his stamina slowly being drained, his strength ebbing away bit by bit. It wasn't just his physical energy; it was something deeper, more fundamental, being sapped from within him. And what unnerved him the most was the realization that he couldn't stop it. His Reverse Cursed Technique, normally a failsafe against any damage or draining effects, was rendered useless against this foreign energy. Whatever Kurosaki had become, whatever he was channeling, it was beyond the realm of cursed energy, something far more insidious and corrupting.

A cold determination settled in Satoru's chest, hardening his resolve. Kurosaki, or whatever he had become, had to die. There was no room for doubt, no margin for error. This abomination had crossed a line that no one should cross, and Satoru knew it was up to him to put an end to it.

"Kid!" Satoru roared, his voice echoing through the cavernous chamber with an urgency that cut through the oppressive atmosphere. Kakine, who had been assessing the situation with narrowed eyes, turned to him. There was no need for words; the understanding passed between them in an instant. They both knew what needed to be done.

Without hesitation, Kakine nodded and sprinted toward the altar where Index was chained, her frail form still bound by the pulsating green energy. Every step he took felt like moving through thick sludge, the air around him heavy and oppressive, but he pushed forward, driven by a singular purpose. Satoru, meanwhile, locked his gaze on Kurosaki, his body coiling with readiness, every muscle tensed for the coming battle.

The plan was clear, though it was a gamble. If the knowledge within Index was what had triggered this nightmare, then perhaps the knowledge within her could also end it. It was a slim hope, but it was the only one they had.

Satoru, meanwhile, squared off against Kurosaki, his mind racing through potential strategies. He couldn't rely on his usual tactics; this was no ordinary battle. Kurosaki's mutated cursed energy was something entirely new, something that defied the very rules of sorcery that Satoru had spent his life mastering. But Satoru was nothing if not adaptable. He knew he had to think outside the box, to find a way to counter this twisted power that Kurosaki wielded.

"You really think you can stop me?" Kurosaki's voice cut through the tense silence, his grin widening as he saw Satoru's expression harden. "You're soon going to be nothing but a relic, Gojo. A leftover from a world that no longer exists. I am the future—the perfect fusion of cursed energy and something far greater. You can't comprehend it, let alone defeat it."

Satoru said nothing in response, his focus narrowing to a razor's edge. He could feel his body straining under the oppressive weight of the energy in the room, but he refused to show any sign of weakness. Instead, he channeled his frustration, his fear, and his determination into a single point of resolve. Kurosaki might be more powerful than anything he had faced before, but Satoru wasn't about to back down.

Kakine reached Index's side, his usually stoic demeanor cracking under the weight of concern that pressed against his chest. His eyes scanned her frail form, his brow furrowing as he took in her deathly pale complexion and the unmoving stillness of her expression. The only sign of life was the faint rise and fall of her chest, but it was so shallow that for a fleeting moment, Kakine feared the worst.

"Kid," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile hold she had on life. There was something about seeing her like this that made the hard exterior he usually wore crack. He hated how helpless she looked, how similar she looked to… Ringo as she died slowly in his arms.

His hands moved instinctively, reaching for the restraints, determined to free her. But the moment his skin made contact with the strange mist, a searing pain shot through his palms. "Damn it!" he hissed, pulling back sharply as steam rose from his hands, the acrid smell of burning flesh filling the air. His skin was blistered and red, the energy of the chains reacting violently to his touch.

Kakine grimaced, clenching his fists as frustration welled up inside him. This wasn't cursed energy, at least not in any form he had ever encountered. It wasn't like the chaotic power that Satoru wielded with such ease, nor was it like the brutal, overwhelming force the ninja woman had unleashed earlier. This was something completely foreign, something that defied the logic of the cursed energy world he had only just begun to wrap his head around.

"Damn it," he muttered again under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he studied the restraints more closely. The green misty energy writhed and twisted like living vines, coiling tighter around Index's wrists and ankles with every pulse. It didn't just feel dangerous—it felt unnatural, like it didn't belong in this world. It was something ancient, something that didn't obey the same rules as the sorcery and curses he had just come to understand.

Kakine let out a slow, measured breath, trying to keep his growing frustration in check. 'Of course it couldn't just be simple cursed energy,' he thought bitterly. Just when he had finally started getting a grip on all this 'cursed energy' madness, something entirely new had to come crashing down on them. It was like the universe was deliberately throwing curveballs at him, daring him to adapt or break.

Fine then! Adapt he will! Break it he will!

If there's one thing Kakine was always good at, it was surviving the impossible!

Satoru stood his ground, his gaze steady as the green mist blades descended like a deadly rain. He could feel the weight of Kurosaki's twisted energy pressing against his Infinity, the familiar protective barrier he relied on so often to stop any attack from reaching him. But something about this energy—this foreign, eerie power—made him uneasy. His Infinity was holding, but just barely. The mist itself was no ordinary attack, and it seemed to slither through the air like a living thing, adapting to his cursed energy in ways he hadn't anticipated. It wasn't just brute force; it was like the mist was learning, evolving with each second.

'This isn't normal,' Satoru thought, his eyes narrowing behind his bandana. Not even Mahoraga's adaptive techniques had felt quite like this—this was something else entirely, something unnatural. While the attack was stalled, the mist began to swirl, reforming into thin tendrils that crept toward him. They moved with an eerie, deliberate slowness, like they had all the time in the world, and Satoru realized he couldn't afford to let them get any closer.

In one swift motion, he summoned Red, his cursed energy coiling around him like a force of nature. The air around him crackled as the repelling blast exploded outward, scattering the mist and sending it flying in all directions. For a moment, he felt a flicker of triumph—until Kurosaki merely swatted away the Red energy like it was a bothersome insect. The power behind Satoru's attack dissipated into the air, leaving nothing but a mocking smirk on Kurosaki's twisted face.

"It's useless," Kurosaki rasped, his voice echoing through the chamber like a dark whisper. His appearance was even more monstrous up close, with green veins throbbing grotesquely across his body, his red pupils glowing with an unsettling intensity. He stood there, unphased, as if Satoru's attack hadn't even registered. "You can't defeat me."

Satoru's grin widened, though it was more out of defiance than confidence. "You sure love runnin' your mouth, don't cha?" he quipped, his tone light, but his eyes were focused and calculating. He wasn't about to let this freak get into his head. "Is that why cults get started? 'Cause people like you love hearing themselves talk? Or is it 'cause they know that's the only way they can get people to listen to 'em? You spout enough BS, and eventually, someone's bound to believe it."

Kurosaki's eyes narrowed, the jagged lines of his face twisting into something that resembled amusement—or perhaps disgust. "Careful," he said, his voice low, carrying a strange mix of warning and glee. "Your insecurity is showing."

Satoru's jaw tightened, but he didn't let it show. He wasn't insecure—at least not in the way Kurosaki was implying. But there was something about this whole situation that was starting to get under his skin. This wasn't a normal fight. Kurosaki wasn't just another cursed user or sorcerer out for power. This felt different. Kurosaki wasn't simply trying to defeat him; he was toying with him, like he already knew the outcome.

That thought irritated Satoru more than he cared to admit.

Kurosaki, noticing the brief flicker of emotion across Satoru's face, grinned wider, the jagged teeth lining his mouth making the expression even more grotesque. "You feel it, don't you? That creeping sensation at the back of your mind. That small voice telling you something's wrong. It's fear, Gojo. Fear that you're not the strongest anymore. Fear that there's something greater, something you can't control."

Satoru's grin turned sharper, but it didn't reach his eyes. "If you're trying to psychoanalyze me, you're gonna have to try harder," he shot back, keeping his voice light, though he couldn't completely shake the growing unease.

The green mist began to thicken again, swirling around Kurosaki like a protective shroud. Satoru's Infinity still held, but the mist moved differently now—less like an attack and more like a presence. It seemed to seep into the space around them, making the very air heavier, denser, suffocating. Satoru could feel it pressing against him, like invisible hands trying to pull him under.

Kurosaki's energy was wrong. Not just powerful—wrong. It twisted in ways that Satoru's cursed energy couldn't fully comprehend, almost like it existed on a plane outside the normal rules of their world. And what unsettled him even more was the fact that his own abilities, ones he had always considered absolute, weren't responding the way they should. His Infinity could hold off physical attacks and cursed energy alike, but this… this mist didn't follow those rules.

Kurosaki took another step forward, his grin widening as he watched Satoru's subtle retreat. "You're scared," he whispered again, voice grating, almost gleeful. "You know you can't stop it. This energy… it's not something you can fight. Not with cursed energy. Not with your power."

Satoru's eyes flashed with irritation, but he didn't let Kurosaki's words sink in. He wasn't scared. He couldn't afford to be. He had to keep Kurosaki talking—keep him distracted long enough for Kakine to free Index. Whatever twisted ritual Kurosaki had started, Index was the key, and getting her out was the priority.

"Funny," Satoru said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're standing there monologuing like a third-rate villain, and you expect me to take you seriously? Hate to break it to you, but I've heard better speeches from those old oranges at Jujutsu Tech."

Kurosaki's grin faltered for a moment, the veins across his face pulsing faster as his anger spiked. Satoru had hit a nerve.

"You arrogant little—" Kurosaki's words were cut off as Satoru shot forward, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. He wasn't going to let Kurosaki finish whatever he had planned. In one smooth motion, Satoru summoned Blue, the compressed energy warping the space between them as he hurled the powerful attack straight at Kurosaki's chest.

But Kurosaki didn't dodge.

The Blue collided with his body, but instead of exploding on impact, the energy was absorbed—pulled into the swirling green mist that surrounded him. Satoru's eyes widened in surprise as his attack disappeared into nothingness, leaving Kurosaki standing completely unharmed.

Kurosaki chuckled darkly, his voice taking on an otherworldly tone. "You still don't understand, do you?" he asked, his voice filled with cruel amusement. "This isn't your fight anymore. You can't win."

For the first time in a long time, Satoru felt a chill run down his spine.

Kurosaki's transformation wasn't just physical—his very existence had shifted. The rules of their world no longer apply to him anymore.

"I warned you", the air chilled as Kurosaki's form hovered over Satoru, who glared at him in response, "you can't beat me!"

Kakine took a deep breath, his hands trembling as he gently placed them on either side of Index's face. Her skin was cold, almost unnaturally so, and her breathing was shallow, barely noticeable. For a brief moment, Kakine hesitated, his eyes narrowing with conflicted emotions. He hated this. Hated the very idea of using her like this. It felt wrong, invasive, like a violation of something sacred. But there was no other choice—not with Satoru barely holding his own against Kurosaki and no time left to figure out an alternative.

He glanced back toward the battle, where Satoru and Kurosaki were locked in a deadly dance of energy and violence. The green mist that clung to Kurosaki's body seemed to shift and move like a living thing, twisting and curling around Satoru's attacks as if mocking him. Even from a distance, Kakine could feel the oppressive weight of Kurosaki's twisted power—power that was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was suffocating, wrong, and it was getting stronger.

'This is it,' he thought, turning his attention back to Index. 'I don't have a choice.'

Dark Matter… It was Kakine's greatest gift, but also his greatest curse. It gave him the ability to create and manipulate matter that didn't exist, that couldn't exist in the natural world. It was a power that defied the laws of physics, the laws of reality itself. But with that power came a terrible responsibility—because with Dark Matter, he could do things that no one should be able to do. He could break the rules of the universe, bend them to his will.

And now, he was about to use that power in a way he had never dared before.

Closing his eyes, Kakine focused all of his energy into the task at hand. The Dark Matter flowed through him like a current, surging beneath his skin, eager to be unleashed. He could feel it responding to his will, shifting and molding to his precise calculations. This wasn't about brute strength or overwhelming force—this required precision, delicate manipulation on a level that Kakine had never attempted before. He couldn't afford to make a single mistake.

Slowly, carefully, he allowed the Dark Matter to seep into Index's mind—not in a physical way, but in a way that defied explanation. It was as if the Dark Matter itself was probing the edges of her consciousness, searching for something hidden deep within. Kakine's heart pounded in his chest as he navigated through the layers of her mind, each one more complex than the last.

It felt invasive. Wrong. But he had no other choice.

Kakine's breathing grew ragged, each breath coming out in uneven bursts as his consciousness plunged deeper into the vast ocean of Index's mind. The weight of it was immense, almost unbearable, as if he was being pulled down by the sheer gravity of the knowledge she contained. The mental space around him was an endless expanse of swirling darkness, a mixture of deep indigo and black, like the night sky had bled into a stormy sea.

Everywhere he looked, Kakine saw fragments of memories, disjointed and chaotic, flashing in and out of existence. Whispers filled the void, incomprehensible yet haunting, like echoes of voices long forgotten. It was overwhelming, a sensory overload that threatened to drown him in its complexity. Yet, he held on, his mind sharp and calculating, meticulously navigating through the storm of information. He had no room for mistakes here; one misstep could mean disaster—not just for him, but for her as well.

Just a little more. Kakine's brow furrowed in concentration, his teeth clenched as he pressed forward. He was searching for something specific, something buried deep within this sea of knowledge. He knew it was there—an answer, a way to sever the connection between Index and whatever twisted ritual Kurosaki had used to gain his power. It was hidden, locked away, but Kakine was determined to find it.

Then, like a beacon cutting through the fog, he saw them—books.

Thousands upon thousands of books floated in the vast, dark sea. Their covers glowed faintly, each one bound in intricate designs, some old and weathered, others pristine and untouched. They drifted aimlessly, as if they existed in a void separate from time itself. Kakine's heart pounded as he reached out, fingers brushing against the nearest one, its leathery surface cool to the touch.

This is it. He could feel it. The knowledge inside this book, whatever it contained, would hold the key to breaking the ritual.

But as his hand closed around the book, his entire existence shook.

It wasn't just a tremor—it was a violent, wrenching force, as if the very fabric of reality had been torn apart around him. The sea of knowledge surged, and Kakine's mind was flooded with a deafening sound, like a thousand voices screaming in unison. The darkness around him shifted, becoming a living, breathing entity that lashed out with tendrils of energy, trying to force him out.

'What is this?'

"Intruder Alert! Unauthorized presence detected!"

The voice boomed through the space, chilling in its cold, mechanical tone. It echoed across the vast sea, vibrating through Kakine's very being. The ground beneath him, if it could even be called that, trembled as a new presence made itself known.

From the darkness, something began to form. A figure—no, a guardian—emerged, glowing with an ethereal white light. The figure was unmistakably female, tall and statuesque, with long, flowing hair that seemed to be made of pure light. Her eyes were empty, glowing orbs of energy, and her skin was translucent, as if she were a spirit bound to this place. Her body was adorned in a flowing white dress that blended seamlessly with the sea of knowledge, and every movement she made caused the surrounding books to stir as if they were connected to her.

The woman's presence was overwhelming, her power radiating outwards in waves. Kakine could feel it pressing down on him, a suffocating force that made it hard to think, hard to move. The sea of knowledge around him swirled violently, reacting to her presence like a storm had been unleashed.

"Threat assessment: Alpha. Commence elimination sequence."

Her voice, calm and harmonized, held no emotion. It was as though a hundred voices spoke at once, each one perfectly in sync, creating a terrifying, unnatural resonance.

Before Kakine could react, the woman raised her hand, and a shockwave of energy blasted out from her. It was so fast, so sudden, that he barely had time to register the attack before it hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest.

Pain tore through him, both physically and mentally, as if his mind was being shredded from the inside out. He let out a cry, his entire body convulsing as he was violently ejected from Index's subconsciousness. The force of the expulsion was so intense that it felt like he was being ripped apart, his senses overwhelmed by a white-hot agony that blotted out everything else.

In an instant, Kakine was thrown back into reality, his body crashing into the cold, hard floor of the chamber. He gasped, the air knocked out of his lungs as he tumbled across the stone, his head spinning, vision blurry. His limbs felt heavy, his muscles aching from the sheer force of the backlash. For a moment, he struggled to breathe, his mind reeling from the mental assault he had just endured.

What the hell was that?

As Kakine lay there, struggling to pull himself together, he became aware of the sudden shift in the room's atmosphere. A white, radiant glow filled the chamber, emanating from Index's now-floating body. The energy pouring from her was unlike anything he had ever felt before—pure, powerful, and dangerous.

The air was thick with tension, and Kakine could hear the distant, strained breaths of Satoru and Kurosaki. Even they, the two most powerful forces in the room, were shaken by what was happening.

Index, her eyes still closed, was levitating above the altar. Her small frame seemed to be enveloped in a second body—an ethereal, glowing form that hovered just behind her, its eyes open and watching the room with a cold, detached gaze.

Kurosaki, who had been so confident mere moments ago, was now frozen in place, his mutated form trembling with fear.

"What have you done?" Kurosaki's voice was no longer filled with arrogance—it was filled with horror, his face twisted in disbelief as he watched the glowing figure that was now controlling Index.

And for the first time since the battle had begun, Satoru Gojo was silent.