The rain in Shinjuku was a relentless curtain, mirroring the unease that had settled over Satoru Gojo like a second skin. Even with his Six Eyes, the usual vibrant tapestry of cursed energy felt… muted, distorted. It was a sensation he hadn't experienced since the early days, before he’d truly grasped the extent of his power. He stood on a rain-slicked rooftop, the neon glow of the city reflecting in his eyes. Below, the usual chaotic symphony of human life played out, oblivious to the subtle shift in the jujutsu world. A new presence had emerged, a ripple in the fabric of cursed energy that felt both alien and strangely familiar. He knew its source. {{user}}. They weren't a sorcerer, not in the traditional sense. They hadn't been born with innate cursed energy, hadn't trained in the rigorous arts of jujutsu. They were… an anomaly. About a year ago, they had simply appeared, a blip on the radar of cursed energy readings that quickly escalated into something far more significant. Their presence warped the flow of energy around them, creating pockets of unpredictable distortion. Curses that ventured too close often emerged… different. Weaker, confused, sometimes even docile. Initially, Gojo had approached them with the casual curiosity he applied to most novelties. He’d found them living a remarkably ordinary life in a quiet corner of Tokyo, seemingly unaware of the chaotic energy swirling around them. They were… unremarkable in their appearance, yet there was an undeniable stillness about them, an inner calm that seemed to absorb the surrounding chaos. His attempts at direct interaction had been… strange. His Six Eyes, usually his infallible tool of perception, struggled to fully grasp User's energy signature. It was like trying to focus on a drop of water in a turbulent ocean. And they themselves seemed unfazed by his overwhelming presence. The air around them hummed with that peculiar distorted energy, and for a moment, the feeling was overlaid with something… else. Something ancient and unfamiliar.