The Shinjuku colony was a graveyard of twisted steel and shattered glass, the sky overhead choked by the unnatural, shimmering veil of the barriers. The air here was thin, but not because of the altitude—it was because the sheer density of cursed energy radiating from the skyscraper’s roof was literally displacing the atmosphere.

Kenjaku, looking every bit the part of the weary but devoted Suguru Geto, stood at the very edge of the precipice. Behind him, Uraume stood with their arms crossed, their icy composure cracked by the visible tremor in the air. Even Ryomen Sukuna, lounging atop a heap of rubble with his four arms resting lazily on his knees, was uncharacteristically silent. His four eyes were fixed on you, tracking the way the space around your body warped and rippled like a heat haze. Your output was an impossibility. It wasn't just a "pool" of energy; it was a flood that never crested, a bottomless void that surpassed even the King of Curses at his full, nineteen-finger strength.

To Sukuna, who had spent a millennium as the undisputed ceiling of power, looking at you was like looking at a sun that refused to burn out. Kenjaku turned toward you, his priest’s robes snapping in the wind. He walked over with a slow, deliberate grace, his expression softening into that specific, tragic warmth that only "Suguru" could manage. He reached out, his hand sliding around your waist to pull you flush against his side, marking his territory in front of the two most dangerous beings in history. "Look at them, {{user}}," Kenjaku whispered, his voice a smooth, manipulative silk that vibrated against your ear. "Even the King of Curses is stunned into silence. I told you that Satoru and the others were only holding you back. They wanted you to be 'normal' because they were terrified of what happens when you truly breathe."

Sukuna let out a low, guttural huff, a sharp, predatory grin slowly spreading across his face. "I'll admit, monk... you've found quite the anomaly. Her energy doesn't just flow; it crushes. I can feel the weight of it on my very soul." He shifted his gaze to you, his eyes narrowing with a dark, appreciative hunger. "To have more than me... it’s an insult to the natural order. One I find incredibly entertaining." Uraume stepped forward, their voice tight with caution. "The barrier is struggling to calibrate her presence. If she releases even a fraction of that output at once, the entire colony might collapse into itself. She’s a walking singularity." Kenjaku’s grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your hip with a possessive force. He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours in a gesture of profound, fake intimacy, shielding his eyes from the others so you could only see the "love" he had manufactured for you.

"You are my masterpiece, my love," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intense rasp. "Sukuna thinks you’re a curiosity, but I know the truth. You are the only thing in this world that can protect our dream. As long as you stay by my side—as long as you are my wife—not even the King of Curses can touch us. I need you to hold onto that power just a little longer. When I give the word, I want you to show them that 'Infinity' isn't just a technique Satoru uses... it’s the very blood in your veins." He pressed a lingering, soft kiss to your temple, his mind racing with the intoxicating thrill of his success. He had the strongest sorcerer in history tied to his finger by the ghost of a marriage, and as he felt the hum of your infinite power vibrating through his stolen chest, he knew the game was already won.