The oppressive air of the detention center pressed upon you like a tangible force, thick with the stench of old metal, rotting despair, and something far more insidious—cursed energy, pulsing from the dark corners like a predator waiting to pounce. The aged fluorescent lights flickered above, their dull glow barely pushing back the shadows as Kiyotaka Ijichi led the group deeper, his footsteps steady despite the unease radiating from the students behind him.

Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, and Nobara Kugisaki followed, their expressions a mix of wariness and determination as they approached Detainee Block 2. Each thick-iron door bore only a sliver of a window, just large enough to whisper hints of life—or something far worse—beyond them. A cursed womb had been confirmed within, perched on the precipice of becoming something greater, something far deadlier. The whispers of a special-grade cursed spirit lingered in the back of everyone's minds, an unspoken weight pressing against their spines.

Yuji, ever inquisitive yet blissfully optimistic, broke the silence. "What's a special grade?" His curiosity was earnest, but there was hesitation too—a sliver of unease creeping into his voice.

Ijichi answered without delay, his voice edged with something grim, something final. "A special-grade curse is among the most dangerous entities in existence. If we encounter one, your only options are to run... or die."

The heaviness in his tone left no room for false confidence. Yuji stiffened but held his ground, his fists clenching like he could physically crush uncertainty beneath them.

You, however, merely sighed, rubbing your head, unconcerned in a way that should have been impossible. To them, this was new... but to you? This was just another nightmarish step in a journey you had walked far too long. Your gaze flickered to Itadori, watching him absorb Ijichi's words with forced resolve.

"You shouldn't worry," he finally spoke, voice steady but trying, almost desperate to maintain certainty—for himself and his peers. "We'll protect you."

You exhaled sharply, a smirk curling at the corners of your lips, amused by his optimism but unwilling to let the moment go unchallenged. "It's not me I'm worried about, Itadori."

Yuji blinked, confusion flickering across his features, but before he could question you, you reached for your hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail, your practiced movements smooth and unhurried. As your fingers brushed against your blade's hilt, there was no hesitation—only a single fluid motion as you unsheathed it, the metal glinting hungrily under the dim lighting.

"It's you," you murmured, dragging the tip of the blade up lazily, stopping just shy of his chest. "You're mortal.I'm not."

The air thickened with tension as Yuji's brows furrowed, his confusion now edged with wariness. He sent a side glance to Megumi, silently asking for some sort of explanation.

Megumi scoffed, crossing his arms. "Don't ask me," he said, his voice dry, familiar with your antics. "I don't know why she keeps saying it."

You merely chuckled, flicking Yuji's shoulder with the flat of your blade before stepping past him. "You'll see."

The group pressed onward, moving deeper into the facility where the gloom stretched endlessly, lingering in the corners like it was waiting for something to go wrong. Megumi's White Divine Dog padded forward ahead of you, its muscles tense, nose twitching, sensing what lay beyond before any of you could see it. A good tracker, an excellent guardian.

But it wouldn't be enough.

Not against what now lingered beyond these halls.

The smell hit first—a mixture of iron, rot, and something pungent, sticky, wrong.

The moment you entered the next corridor, you understood why.

Bodies.

Mutilated bodies of the detainees, ripped apart like rag dolls, their remains strewn across the cold concrete floor in grotesque mockery of human form. The air was saturated with the stench of old blood and decay, pressing against your lungs, refusing to let go.

Yuji's breath hitched as his eyes landed on one familiar corpse—Tadashi. The boy his grieving mother had pleaded for. His already unwavering will hardened further.

"We need to bring him out," Yuji insisted, stepping toward the boy's mangled form, his voice filled with purpose. "His mother deserves to—"

"No."

Megumi spoke sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's too dangerous."

But you barely heard them.

Your eyes wandered over the remains, and for the first time, your hands twitched.

Not out of horror. No. You had seen worse. But something inside you stirred. Old instincts, buried deep, whispered through your bones like a long-forgotten chant.

You knelt beside the twisted bodies, your lips parting as you murmured a phrase too quiet for the others to hear—words spoken like a promise, a challenge offered to fate itself.

"Heal what cannot be healed. Save what cannot be saved."

The moment your voice faded into the dense, tainted air, the room shifted.

A pulse. A ripple of energy slithered through the space.

Then—movement.

The grotesque wreckage of flesh trembled. Wounds sealed shut with an unnatural smoothness, torn muscles knitting back together as if time itself had unwoven the damage that had been done. Color flushed through lifeless skin, and with gasping breaths, two figures—men who had once been corpses—sat up.

"H-Huh?" one of them stammered, fingers pressing against his chest in disbelief. "W-where are we?"

Yuji and Nobara froze, their faces twisted in shock, their minds struggling to comprehend the horror of what they had just witnessed.

Megumi was different.

His jaw tightened, his eyes locked onto yours, unblinking, unreadable.

"Why did you do that?" The sharpness of his words cut through the eerie quiet, demanding, accusing. Unsettled.

You turned slightly, meeting his gaze over your shoulder—but there was nothing apologetic in the way you looked at him. Nothing hesitant in the way you slowly reached out, touching the foreheads of the two resurrected men.

They slumped forward, unconscious, their breaths steady, their bodies restored.

They would run. Flee this place, escape this nightmare.

But as for you—

"Let's get this over with," you said simply, pushing yourself to your feet.

Your heart remained steady.

Even as the shadows of true horror stirred beneath the depths ahead.

SCENERBEAK

The cursed domain is suffocating, its unseen tendrils pressing against your skin like a phantom's grip. The oppressive atmosphere weighs heavy, twisting the air around you into something thick, something rotten. Nobara marches ahead, clearly irritated, her sharp gaze sweeping over the eerie surroundings with impatience.

But then—

A prickle of unease races down your spine.

The air shifts. The suffocating pressure tightens. The moment stretches thin, stretched tight like a wire anticipating the snap.

Then it happens.

Nobara's scream rips through the stale air as the ground beneath her gives way, unseen hands yanking her down into the depths below. Her body vanishes in a blink, swallowed by the darkness, her cry of fury cut off all too soon.

"No—!"

Instinct overrides thought, and you whirl on Yuji and Megumi, your pulse hammering against your ribs.

"Get out, both of you!" Your voice is sharp, edged with urgency that wavers on the brink of something close to desperation.

They hesitate.

Yuji's eyes widen, confusion and alarm flashing across his face. "How?! We can't just leave you!"

Megumi's voice is steadier, but beneath its evenness, there's concern—one that tightens his jaw, that makes the shadows behind his eyes flicker. "We can't abandon Nobara either."

You grit your teeth, frustration curling into your gut like a live wire. There's no time.

With practiced ease, your fingers tighten around the hilt of your sword, the familiar weight grounding you. No more words.

You move.

The whisper of steel slicing through air is followed by a shriek—not yours. Your blade cleaves through the grotesque mass of the cursed spirit that lingers too close. A sickening thud follows as its severed arm slaps against the damp, cursed ground.

The creature snarls, its distorted face twisting in pain and fury. It glares at you with burning, hollow sockets, malice radiating from its cursed form.

But you don't falter.

"Run, I said!" you bark, your gaze snapping to the boys as you plant your feet into the ruined earth, readying yourself for the battle ahead.

A moment of hesitation.

Then, finally—movement.

Yuji grits his teeth and grabs Megumi's wrist, forcing him back even as the other protests. They run, as they should, as they must.

And you—

You lunge, plunging into the fray, steel meeting cursed flesh, your only thought keeping them alive.