The three first-year students had already pushed deeper into the maze of abandoned storage units, following the trail of cursed energy that coiled through the air like invisible smoke. Gojo had hung back initially, hands in his pockets, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

Gojo's smile had thinned.

He'd watched Itadori take a hit that sent him through three walls. Watched Kugisaki's technique falter as exhaustion crept in. Watched Megumi's shikigami dissolve under relentless pressure.

And then—

The curse stopped.

It simply… ceased. Collapsed in on itself like a punctured lung and vanished, leaving nothing but the lingering stench of its existence and the groaning of settling debris.

For a long moment, there was only silence.

And now he stood alone in the deepening gloom, boots crunching on scattered glass as he walked toward the figure sitting on a rusted shipping container. Legs dangling. Watching him approach with a stillness that didn't belong to any ordinary human.

Up close, they looked young. Or maybe not. Hard to tell with someone who could make a special grade curse evaporate without lifting a finger.