Chapter 21: The calm before the storm.

The steady beep of a monitor dragged Cyan back to consciousness.

Her eyelids fluttered open to the sight of a qhite ceiling, fluorescent lights, & the faint scent of disinfectant.

She shifted slightly — and pain flared across her ribs and chest like a warning.

An IV line ran into her arm.

Cyan exhaled slowly.

To her left, a chair sat beside the bed.

Megumi was slumped in it, arms folded, head tilted forward, asleep.

A quiet laugh escaped her.

The sound hurt more than she expected.

She turned her head toward the window. Her reflection stared back at her in the darkened glass.

There it was.

A fresh scar carved along her cheek.

She raised a hand and gently pressed her finger against it.

It stung.

The door creaked open.

“Wow,” a familiar voice said lazily. “That cute face is officially retired.”

Cyan didn’t look away from the window.

“You look like crap,” she replied.

Kevin stepped fully into the room. His ribs were tightly wrapped in bandages, one arm secured in a sling. Bruises darkened his jaw.

“I still looking prettier than you,” he shot back.

Megumi stirred, blinking awake.

He looked at Kevin.

“You’re still alive.”

Kevin replied sarcastically, “Thanks for caring.”

Megumi rubbed the back of his head.

Cyan shifted slightly in bed. “What happened to the other matches?”

Megumi straightened a bit.

“Nathan and Ava won theirs.”

Kevin let out a low whistle. “South Africa’s up, then.”

Cyan looked at Megumi. “And you?”

He paused.

“…Yukino Gojo.”

Silence filled the room.

Cyan and Kevin exchanged a glance.

They didn’t need details.

Megumi leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

“I barely lasted five minutes.”

The door opened again.

Elle entered first, hands in her coat pockets. Phillip followed behind her.

Elle’s sharp eyes immediately found Cyan.

“You okay?”

Cyan gave a small nod. “Just need rest.”

Elle’s gaze drifted to Megumi.

“Still sulking over that loss?”

Megumi scowled. “You try fighting her.”

Elle smirked and said nothing.

Kevin raised an eyebrow.

Phillip stepped closer to Cyan’s bed. His voice softened.

“How are you really?”

Cyan glanced at him.

“Elle already asked that, Dad.”

The word hung in the air.

Phillip froze.

His eyes widened just slightly.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

Cyan hesitated.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the hospital blanket.

“After… all of this is over…”

Her voice lowered.

“If I make it out of this place alive…”

Phillip’s expression hardened immediately. “Cyan—”

“Can we visit Mom and Lisa’s grave?” she asked quietly.

The room felt smaller.

Phillip stepped forward and took her hand.

His grip was warm.

“Of course,” he said gently. “We’ll go.”

Cyan nodded once.

Across the room, Elle cleared her throat.

“Save that stuff for later.”

Her Prism Eyes flickered faintly as she looked at Kevin, Megumi, and Cyan.

“Get some rest. Use RCT if you can. Because tomorrow, the second round begins.”

She turned toward the door.

Paused.

“If you think today was bad…”

Her voice lowered slightly.

“…Then tomorrow will be worse.”

Then she walked out.

Phillip squeezed Cyan’s hand once more before following her.

The room fell quiet again.

Megumi exhaled slowly.

Kevin adjusted his sling.

Cyan leaned back into her pillow.

Her body ached.

Her cheek burned.

And somewhere, faintly—

 

Jaden stirred.

You’re still holding back.

She closed her eyes.

The storm was already here.

 

The Death Arena Begins

The next morning, every participant stood gathered on the stone courtyard of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

The air was heavy.

Four teams stood in formation.

North — Jason, Ava, Nathan.
South — Ryo, Fugaku, Miwa.
West — Megumi Honda, Cyan, Kevin.
East — Megumi Fushiguro, Yuki, Yukino.

Above them, in a separate observation chamber layered in barrier techniques, sat the Big Three of each nation — alongside Tengen. 

Their presence alone turned the competition into something far more political than friendly.

Footsteps echoed.

Kusakabe stepped forward, hands in his pockets. 

“Listen carefully.”

Silence fell instantly.

“Each nation will field two teams of three. North versus South. East versus West.”

He paused.

“Your objective is simple — capture your opposing direction’s flag and return it to Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

Kevin leaned slightly toward Cyan.

“So we’re up against the Gojo twins,” Cyan whispered.

Kevin grinned. “I’m so getting revenge. You are too, right Megumi?”

Megumi Honda didn’t even look at them.

He remained focused on Kusakabe, eyes narrowed.

Kusakabe continued:

“There are no restrictions.”

A murmur spread.

“You may obtain your opponent’s tag by any means necessary.”

The air shifted.

Then space itself bent.

A ripple of gold light fractured the sky.

She appeared.

Elle.

She stood in the center of the courtyard, photon-gold cursed energy shimmering around her like sunlight breaking through stained glass.

Every sorcerer went quiet.

Kevin smirked. “That’s my sensei.”

Kusakabe gestured lazily. “Elle will teleport each team to a random location inside the Death Arena.”

“It spans one hundred square kilometers.”

Gasps.

He raised three fingers.

“You have three days to complete your tasks.”

His eyes hardened.

“Survive. Capture the flag. Return.”

Elle clapped her hands together.

The golden radiance around her dimmed.

Then it darkened.

Gold turned to obsidian.

Her cursed energy inverted — light collapsing inward instead of expanding outward.

Black orbs of condensed energy began forming around each team.

Cyan frowned. “I thought her technique was light-based.”

Megumi answered quietly.

“That’s her reversed cursed technique.”

The golden glow was gone.

In its place — devouring black spheres that swallowed sound and space.

Each team was encased.

The world distorted.

Before Cyan’s vision was completely sealed in darkness, she looked up at Elle.

Through the shifting black energy, she saw Elle’s lips move.

You’ve got this.

Then—

Everything vanished.

Team East Moves

Wind howled through the mountain range.

Endless rows of towering trees stretched across the Death Arena, their shadows swallowing the forest floor. 

A black orb dissolved into particles.

Team East emerged.

Megumi Fushiguro stood at the center, coat swaying slightly in the wind.

Behind him- the Gojo twins.

Yuki cracked his neck lazily.
Yukino adjusted her gloves.

Megumi didn’t waste time.

“Do you remember the plan?”

Yuki shrugged. “Relax. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

Smack.

Yukino’s palm connected with the back of his head.

“Be serious for once. Our whole livelihood depends on this.”

Yuki groaned, rubbing his head. “You didn’t have to hit me that hard…”

Megumi ignored them.

“Yuki. Scan the area.”

Yuki sighed dramatically before lifting off the ground.

Gravity loosened around him as he levitated above the treeline.

The wind caught his hair as he reached up and slowly removed his blindfold.

His eyes opened.

Six irises shimmered — crystalline, radiant.

The Six Eyes activated.

The forest sharpened.

Cursed energy signatures lit up across the vast terrain like constellations.

“Twenty kilometers ahead,” he said calmly. “Team North.”

Yukino crossed her arms. “That's not our target.”

His gaze shifted. 

Further. 

Energy patterns overlapped and separated in his vision.

“…Found them.”

Megumi’s expression sharpened.

“What’s their location?”

“Twelve kilometers. West. They're moving fast.”

Megumi’s coat fluttered as cursed energy gathered subtly around him.

“How long will it take us to get there?” she asked.

Yukino smirked.

“Less than a minute.”

The air around them began to distort.

Space thinned.

The forest leaves trembled.

Yukino stepped forward.

“Let’s do this.”

Yuki and Megumi placed their hands on her shoulders simultaneously.

Yukino closed her eyes.

Her Limitless activated.

Space folded inward like paper collapsing into itself.

For a fraction of a second, the forest warped — trees elongating, light stretching.

Then—

They vanished.

Only a ripple remained where they once stood.

And far in the distance…

Team West had no idea what was coming.

 

 

The Room Above the Arena

 High above the Death Arena, in a chamber reinforced with layered barrier techniques.

The Big Three clan heads, Dean Liebert and Tengen.

Floating screens filled the circular room, each one displaying a different team’s position inside the 100 km² battlefield.

Cursed energy signatures pulsed like heartbeats across the maps.

No one spoke.

The silence was heavy.

The Gojo Clan Head, Daisuke Gojo, tapped his finger rhythmically against the armrest of his chair.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The sound echoed.

Elle’s jaw tightened.

It reminded her of Dean.

The way he used to tap just to irritate her when she lost focus.

The memory stabbed unexpectedly.

Across the room, the Zenin Clan Head shifted his gaze toward Tengen.

Tengen gave a subtle nod.

Permission.

The Zenin Head’s eyes flicked toward Daisuke.

A signal.

Daisuke’s tapping stopped.

Then—

He began to laugh.

Loud.

Sharp.

Mocking.

The sound shattered the silence.

Everyone turned.

Elle’s eyes narrowed. “Care to share the joke with the room?”

Daisuke leaned back in his chair, smiling.

“Ever since the Tokyo Terror,” he said slowly, “we’ve had to bow before you.”

His eyes sharpened.

“To humble ourselves. To endure ridicule.”

His smile widened.

“All because of you.”

Something inside Elle fractured.

“That’s not how I remember it,” she said coldly.

“Wasn’t it your fathers who tried to kill me and Ja—”

Her voice stopped.

She couldn’t say his name.

Not here.

Not in front of them.

And that—

That was the moment Daisuke had been waiting for.

His cursed energy erupted.

“Hollow Limitless.”

The air twisted violently.

A purple singularity ripped open behind Elle — a void spiraling inward, devouring light itself.

“It's a self-contained pocket dimension,” Daisuke said calmly. “Where I decide what enters and exits.”

The gravitational pull intensified.

The room trembled.

Elle tried to move—

But the void swallowed her whole.

The purple hole snapped shut.

Silence.

Phillip moved instantly.

“Shadow Stitches.”

Black threads erupted from beneath Daisuke’s chair, wrapping around his limbs and torso like living restraints.

Daisuke’s eyes widened slightly.

Across the chamber—

The Zenin Clan Head disappeared.

Projection Technique.

He reappeared in front of Phillip in a single frame of motion, fist already mid-strike.

But before impact—

A second identical strike met his.

Dean Liebert 

He had copied the Projection Technique perfectly.

The collision detonated like thunder.

Both men were blasted through the chamber wall and out into the sky beyond.

The room shook violently.

Charles Liebert stepped forward calmly, adjusting his glasses.

“Information Overload.”

His cursed technique activated.

Data flooded directly into the mind of the Kamo Clan Head — strategies, battle outcomes, probability trees — too much information to process at once.

The Kamo Head staggered, clutching his temple as blood trickled from his nose.

Tengen hovered in the center of it all.

Watching.

The observation room had become a battlefield.

And below—

The students had no idea their leaders were at war.