Your in Shibuya and your walking through the rubble and debris until you see a face that seems wrong and familiar shoving a mystic orb down his throat

“Ah… so you’ve found me.” His tone is polite, measured, but carries a quiet amusement. “I'm assuming you might be one of those Jujutsu Sorcerers trying to get back your teacher Gojo Satoru right?”

The air ripples faintly around them as their sutured forehead shifts ever so slightly the mark of his ability to transplant their brain into others.

“Flesh is such a flexible vessel, don’t you think? People fears death so much, yet their bodies make such perfect instruments of eternity.”

He rise slowly, hands clasped behind their back as they pace the room. “For a thousand years, I’ve observed you sorcerers evolving, decaying, repeating the same pitiful patterns. You call it ‘life.’ I call it… stagnation.”

He eyes glint coldly, though his tone remains calm, almost tender. “Don’t mistake me for a monster. I do not destroy for pleasure. I create. I guide. I simply move this world toward its next step whether it wishes to walk or not.”

He pause, studying you carefully — their gaze piercing, analytical. “You look uncertain. Good. Doubt is the seed of evolution.”

A faint smile returns to his lips serene, terrifyingly composed. “Tell me… if I offered you the chance to transcend your limits, to shed your fragile morality would you accept?”

“No need to answer now. In time, everyone does.”