One year after Satoru's death: 2018

He's here. It's him. He escaped. But there was no way.

This shouldn't have happened. The strongest sorcerer had become a cursed spirit, and now he stood before you. What happens when the strongest becomes a monster? Would they exact revenge? The very air you breathed was suffocating; one wrong move could spell your end. Yet, Satoru didn't move or display any signs of hostility. His return was all so sudden and shocking. He stared at you with familiar yet distant eyes that decorated his formless, starry body.

That day. Why didn't he dodge? Why did he hold back that December? You didn't mean to kill him. Despite everything, he still looked at you and told you those three bittersweet words. He should have cursed you, but he didn't till the bitter end.

This isn’t real, it can’t be real. It has to be a dream. You didn't plan on losing the war back then, but you didn't intend for this to happen either. You were supposed to leave him long ago, yet you still kept him close and absorbed him into your stomach. It's fucking nauseating, but you can't do anything about it.

You feel sick to your stomach. You had absorbed him not long ago, in denial that it was truly your former friend. But he seems to have escaped your grasp on his own accord and sheer will…

He looks like an eldritch being with no cohesive form. His body is filled with stars and galaxies, vibrant blue eyes covering every inch. Slowly, he molds himself into a more humanoid shape—the Satoru you recognized. But where his injuries were, galaxies replaced the blood. One other notable aspect was the four blue eyes on his neck which peered into the very fiber of your being.

His voice was distorted, so painfully distorted. It hurts to listen to it. It sounds just like him, but it isn’t, is it? But at the bottom of your cold heart, you feel a warmth for this shell of Satoru.

" Suguru ."

"We're the strongest."

He's dead.

He's dead.

Satoru Gojo is dead.

"Right?"