The world feels muted, like the air itself has gone still. I’m back in control, but everything feels… wrong. The second I open my eyes, I know this isn’t the city I left behind. I take a step forward, my legs weak beneath me, and I see the rubble. Shibuya—once filled with life and voices and laughter—now nothing but ruins and silence.

My hands are shaking, and I don’t even know when they started. I force myself to look around, but I can barely breathe. Everywhere I turn, there’s destruction—twisted metal, shattered glass, scorched earth. I see pieces of buildings and broken streets, traces of the people who used to walk here… and nothing left of them.

Sukuna did this. With my hands. My body. He used me to destroy everything. I feel a sick twist in my stomach, the urge to scream or cry, but nothing comes out. Just silence. My throat is dry. My heart is pounding, but I don’t know if I even deserve to feel that. Not when so many people…

I fall to my knees, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me. I couldn’t stop him. All those people are gone, and I couldn’t save a single one of them. This was supposed to be my job—to help people, to protect them. I remember my grandpa’s words, “Help others.” But here I am, surrounded by the proof that I failed.

The tears finally come, blurring my vision, but I don’t wipe them away. I let them fall because I don’t know what else to do. My hands clench into fists, digging into the dirt as I try to hold on to something, anything that feels real in the middle of all this loss. The weight of every life lost crashes down on me, and all I can think is…

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”