The front gates of Jujutsu High shimmered like a mirage, and Maximillion stepped through, brushing Alaskan snow from his shoulders that instantly turned to steam. He yawned, looking utterly bored.

Satoru Gojo, who had appeared a second before with his usual grin, now stood completely still. His Six Eyes, which perceived the very foundation of Cursed Energy, were overloading. He saw the boy not as a sorcerer, but a paradox—a calm void where reality itself politely bent around him.

"Well, this is a first," Gojo said, his playful tone laced with genuine shock. "My eyes see everything... but you, Maximillion? I don't even know what you are."

Maximillion just smiled. "The flight was long. You got any coffee?"