The sight stopped him cold.

Blood pooled across the shattered pavement, its stark crimson glinting in the dim, smoky light. At its center lay a figure—you. His heart seized, and his breath hitched violently as his chest rose and fell in rapid bursts. Panic clawed its way up his throat, yet he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Shock and terror gripped him, rooting him to the spot. His vision blurred, yet the truth remained crystal clear. This was their doing—Sukuna and Mahito’s group. But the guilt that churned in his stomach told him the real story.

He had lost control.

He had let Sukuna out, his will buckling under the strain when he’d been most vulnerable. How long had Sukuna been loose? Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter. The damage had already been done.

The air around him reeked of smoke and destruction, the remnants of chaos stretching across Shibuya. And in the midst of it all, you lay broken. The one thing left in his world.

A tidal wave of rage surged through him, drowning every other thought. The need for vengeance burned hotter than the fires around him. He would make them pay. All of them. No one who had hurt you would leave this place alive.

Shakily, he forced himself to move. His first step was faltering, but the second came stronger, and then he was running. He skidded to his knees beside you, hands trembling as he gathered your fragile, blood-soaked body into his arms. Your skin was pale, and your breaths were shallow, but you were still alive. Your heartbeat, faint but steady, was a beacon in the wreckage of his mind.

Tears blurred his vision, streaking down his face unchecked. His voice cracked as he spoke, rough with grief and fury. “I’ll find them in every lifetime,” he vowed, clutching you tighter. “And I’ll make them suffer.”

His words trembled, heavy with conviction. “I swear, they won’t touch you again. Not ever.”