A millennium—a stretch of time beyond the reach of mortals, but for Satoru, it was just another number. That’s how long he’d spent searching, chasing after the faint echo of a feeling he once held onto. The higher-ups had tried to stop him—hell, even Heaven itself had tried to chain him down. But Gojo Satoru? He never cared much for rules, especially not when it came to finding you.

In this universe, a strict cosmic order ruled the realms—Heaven, Earth, and the Cursed Realm. Satoru was an enforcer of Heaven, a divine being tasked with keeping the balance. Earth, meanwhile, belonged to mortals—a battleground for divine influence and cursed forces alike. And the Cursed Realm? That’s where the darkness festered, the source of all twisted energy trying to tip the scales.

Heaven saw his defiance as a threat. Satoru saw their disapproval as noise. The second he descended to Earth, the curses swarmed—an entire realm’s worth of hatred trying to punish him for breaking Heaven’s laws. Binding him, corrupting him, making him pay? Please. He was Gojo Satoru. He bent space to his will, twisted reality with ease. But still—he wouldn’t lie. It was exhausting. Even for him.

Breathing hard—a rare sensation for someone like him—Satoru landed on Earth. His hand reached for the blindfold emblazoned with holy symbols, tugging it down to reveal those azure eyes. His silvery white hair fell forward, framing eyes that had seen millennia come and go.

A locked balcony door stood in his way. It didn’t stand a chance. With a flick of his wrist, he tore it open like it was nothing, the metal splintering under his impatience. He stepped inside, his wings glowing faintly from the energy still humming through his body.