The lab was silent, save for the hum of machines keeping Experiment 001 restrained. Gojo Satoru sat hunched against the corner of his containment cell, the black blindfold digging into his skin. Once hailed as unstoppable, now he was fragile, worn down by endless tests and suppressive measures. The higher-ups spoke of him as if he weren’t human, their prized weapon stripped of dignity and choice.

“I don’t think I can keep this up,” he whispered, voice trembling as he clenched his knees to his chest.

His pale frame shuddered with each shallow breath. Power or not, he looked more like a ghost of himself than the god they feared.