Episode 1: Death & Rebirth

Part 1 – The End of the Strongest

The battlefield reeked of blood, smoke, and burning cursed energy. Rubble stretched as far as Gojo’s Six Eyes could see, shattered temples and broken streets painting the aftermath of his endless clash with Sukuna. His body ached, skin burned with deep lacerations, yet his grin never faltered.

“Damn,” Gojo muttered, tasting iron as blood slid down the corner of his lips. “You really are one tough bastard.”

Across from him, Sukuna towered, skin marked by tattoos glowing with malicious curse energy. He looked battered, but his aura still burned like an eternal flame. “You should feel honored, Satoru. Not many get to push me this far. But…” His smile stretched, fangs glinting. “…this is the end.”

Gojo’s laugh was airy, almost soft. His vision blurred, and his legs trembled. He knew. He had reached his limit. “Guess even the strongest has a deadline.”

His thoughts flashed — Yuuji, Megumi, his students, their bright faces. And somewhere deeper, buried under layers of jokes and arrogance, a shadowed memory: Suguru. The best friend he had failed, the man he couldn’t save. That wound still ached sharper than Sukuna’s blows.

“Would’ve been nice to tell you properly, huh, Suguru?” Gojo whispered, voice nearly lost in the chaos. “That I never stopped…”

Sukuna’s cursed energy roared. Gojo barely registered the slash tearing through him, his body splitting with an explosion of pain before everything turned white.

For the first time in years, silence followed. His body crumpled, his heartbeat fading.

So this is it, Gojo thought as darkness swallowed him whole. Guess my story ends here.

But instead of nothingness, warmth spread across his senses. A gentle pull, like sinking into water yet floating at the same time.

When he opened his eyes, Gojo found himself standing in a quiet field bathed in sunset light. Grass swayed lazily in the wind, and the air smelled clean, untouched by battle. His wounds were gone, his clothes unscathed.

“…Well, this isn’t hell. Too green for that.”

“Always with the jokes, even at the edge of eternity.”

Gojo stiffened. That voice — it was deep, commanding, but carried a familiarity he couldn’t mistake. Slowly, he turned, and his eyes widened behind his blindfold.

An older man stood before him, tall, dignified, hair tied back in white strands that gleamed under the fading light. His posture, his aura — unmistakably Gojo’s bloodline.

“…Grandpa?” Gojo muttered, blinking.

The man chuckled softly. “You’ve grown, Satoru. And you lived up to your title — the strongest of your generation.”

Gojo’s lips twisted into a smirk, though his chest tightened. “Didn’t feel like it at the end. Sukuna sure didn’t send me off gently.”

“Strength is not measured only in victory,” his grandfather replied, stepping closer. His eyes — the same piercing clarity of the Six Eyes — studied him with warmth. “Sometimes, it’s in the choices we make after loss.”

Gojo tilted his head, suspicion flickering. “After loss? I thought I was done. Isn’t this the part where I go… wherever sorcerers go when they’re kaput?”

The older man smiled faintly, shaking his head. “That depends on you. I’m here to offer you a path. A chance.”

Gojo’s smirk faltered. “…A chance? You mean like, reincarnation?”

“A rebirth,” his grandfather confirmed. “Not in this world, but another. A place where fate is… kinder. Where the regrets you carry might find healing.”

Gojo froze, his usual easy arrogance slipping. His regrets… Suguru’s face surged up again in his mind, sharp and clear, as if mocking him. The friend he lost, the life that slipped through his fingers.

He swallowed. “You’re saying I get to… redo things? Save him?”

“Not redo,” the man corrected gently. “But live. Another world, another self. You may find what you’ve lost, or you may find something new. But it is yours to choose.”

Gojo fell silent, staring at the endless horizon. His chest twisted painfully. He hated goodbyes. He hated endings. And yet here was a crack in the wall of finality, a door he hadn’t expected.

Of course, he couldn’t resist poking fun even at this solemn moment. He huffed a laugh. “So, what? I get to spin the gacha of the multiverse? You sure you’re not scamming me, old man?”

His grandfather’s lips quirked. “Always irreverent. No scam. Only choice.”

Gojo rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the grass under his feet. “…Fine. But make it fun. If I wake up as a worm or something, I’m suing.”

The man chuckled. “You’ll see soon enough.”

And just like that, light engulfed Gojo once more — warm, overwhelming, pulling him forward into the unknown.

✨ End of Part 1

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hiii! Guys. I am author Freya. This my first story i hope you guys enjoy it and please don't copy my work

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