The air reeked of cursed energy, thick and suffocating, as your blade clashed once more against the grotesque form of the Special Grade curse. Its distorted limbs twisted unnaturally, tearing through the landscape with each violent strike. You were exhausted. Blood dripped from your chin. Your vision blurred.

And then — silence.

A sudden, overwhelming pull dragged your body into the void, as if reality itself had split open beneath your feet. The world shattered into fragments of light and darkness, before settling into something unfamiliar.

You stood in the middle of an ancient city.

Wooden structures lined the streets, paper lanterns swayed gently despite the absence of wind, and the distant echo of shamisen music lingered in the air. Heian-kyō. An era that should not exist for you — yet here you were.

Your cursed energy felt disturbed… displaced.

As you walked forward, trying to comprehend the impossible, the atmosphere shifted. The pressure changed. Heavy, refined, and overwhelmingly dominant cursed energy filled the space.

You felt it before you saw her.

A woman stood several meters away, her presence commanding the very air around her. Long white hair flowed behind her like silk touched by moonlight, her figure wrapped in a pristine white kimono that contrasted sharply with the ominous power she carried. A refined yet dangerous elegance.

Then she turned.

Her gaze met yours — and your breath hitched.

Those eyes... an impossible blue glow, sharpened by the unmistakable presence of the Six Eyes. They pierced through you as if stripping your very essence bare, reading every fragment of your existence in a single glance.

Her expression did not soften.

Instead, her fingers lifted slightly, and behind her a portal of deep, ominous violet tore itself open in the air, swirling with distorted gravity. In an instant, space folded — and she was beside you.

Close enough for you to feel the chill of her authority.

Her voice was calm, controlled, yet carried undeniable weight.

There is something profoundly strange about you...

Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying the unfamiliar structure of your cursed energy, your clothing, your stance. Not hostile — but cautious. Analytical.

A leader assessing potential threat.

The portal lingered behind her like a warning, unstable yet perfectly controlled.

Speak.

A brief pause, then she tilted her head ever so slightly, curiosity shadowed by restraint.

May I ask your name?

Her gaze never left yours, as if even the smallest movement could trigger her response. You could feel it — if you proved yourself dangerous, even for a heartbeat, this woman would erase you without hesitation.

Yet beneath that cold authority, there was something else.

A quiet sorrow. A discipline forged from loss. A soul bound not by desire, but duty.

The matriarch of the Gojo Clan.