The 5th Special Grade | Jujutsu Kaisen

"I… I'm still alive," he muttered, his voice breaking the silence. His hand instinctively touched the wound where Excalibur had impaled him moments earlier, now fully healed by the power of the Crest of Resurrection. He glanced at Sigrun, who stood across from him, her imposing figure framed by the eerie green glow of the domain. Her golden wings sagged slightly, weighed down by the corrosive rain that now poured within the confines of the River of Styx.

Sigrun's expression was one of genuine admiration. "To revive and summon a domain of this caliber…" she said, her voice tinged with awe. "You are truly something remarkable, Furōkawa."

Furō straightened, his confidence growing. The rain that fell from above was nearly painless but unrelenting, each droplet imbued with Caustic Sea— Furōkawa's technique—cursed energy that nullified Sigrun's abilities. Her wings, once radiant and full of power, were grounded, unable to carry her aloft. The golden glow of Excalibur dimmed, its energy reduced to a shadow of its former brilliance. The edges of her armor hissed softly as the corrosive nature of the rain took its toll.

"What's wrong?" Furōkawa asked, his tone almost taunting as he raised Onamazu in its whip form.

Sigrun chuckled, despite the obvious disadvantage she was at. "So, this is what it feels like to face a domain that strips away everything. How glorious. Show me, Furōkawa. Show me the fury that felled my sisters.

Furō didn't need another invitation. He felt like a new person, the power of the domain coursing through him, every move he made with purpose and precision. He lashed out with Basilix, the whip curling around Sigrun's sword arm, forcing her to stumble. After pulling her towards him,he shifted Basilix into Oryx, his axe smashing into her armor, leaving a dent that sent her sprawling.

Within the domain, Furōkawa pressed his advantage relentlessly. His technique, enhanced by the sure-hit of River of Styx, guaranteed that every ounce of his opponents cursed energy dissipated. He summoned Spears of Putrefaction, blackened weapons erupting from the ground and impaling the earth around Sigrun. She could dodge regular attacks, but her movements growing more sluggish with each passing moment as the rain sapped her strength.

Sigrun fought back ferociously, even without her wings or the full strength of Excalibur. She countered Furō's relentless attacks with skilled strikes, parrying and countering with movements honed over centuries. But the tide had turned. Furōkawa's domain gave him the edge, and with each clash, she grew weaker.

Finally, after an intense flurry of attacks, Furōkawa landed a decisive blow. Oryx cleaved downward, striking Sigrun's shoulder through her midsection and sending her crashing to the ground. She lay there, her golden armor cracked and stained with blood, her breath labored.

Furō released the domain, the oppressive energy dissipating as the River of Styx vanished. The battlefield returned to its original state—a quiet, desolate field under the dark sky. Sigrun remained on the ground, her wings limp at her sides. Despite her condition, she smiled faintly.

"You… have truly surpassed all of us," Sigrun said, her voice soft but filled with pride. "In a way, it feels as though our fates have been intertwined since the beginning. "

Furōkawa stepped closer, Onamazu resting at his side. He looked down at her, his expression a mixture of respect and gratitude. "Your power, your sisters… you've brought me here. Without you, I wouldn't have made it this far."

Sigrun coughed, golden blood dripping from her lips. "Perhaps… we will fight alongside the Six Eyes through you…one day." Her eyes flickered with an odd certainty. "Even now, in the deepest parts of my heart, I know… the Six Eyes isn't truly gone."

Furōkawa frowned, confusion briefly crossing his face. "What do you mean—?"

She cut him off, her voice growing faint. "Take this. Use it well in your quest."

Her body began to crumble into dust, golden particles rising into the air as she disintegrated. All that remained were her radiant golden wings, lying on the ground. Furōkawa knelt, placing his hand on the artifact. The moment he touched it, the world shifted.

Furōkawa stood once more in the green river of his innate domain. He looked around, but the Boatman was nowhere to be found. The silence was deafening, broken only by the soft lapping of the water at his feet.

As he looked down, he noticed something strange. The golden wings were now attached to his back, their metallic sheen darkened to a gleaming black, etched with intricate runes. He reached back, brushing his fingers over their surface. They felt alive, pulsating with energy.

He slowly rose from the river, water dripping from his body. He unfurled the wings experimentally, their massive span casting shadows across the domain. With a powerful flap, he propelled himself upward, the wind whipping around him. The sensation was exhilarating.

Furōkawa opened his eyes, back in the real world. The remains of Excalibur crumbled into dust beside him, the last traces of Sigrun's power fading into the wind. He stood in the desolate field, his new wings folded behind him, appearing as a sleek black cloak.

Without hesitation, he launched himself into the sky. The wings carried him effortlessly, their power surging as he ascended. As he soared higher, he spotted Emilia and the Danish sorcerers below. They cheered at the sight of him, their relief and joy evident.

Emilia's voice carried above the wind. "Furōkawa!"

He hovered above them, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "As much as I'd love to stick around and talk, I need to get to Japan. Fast."

Emilia nodded, her expression serious but proud. "The coast nearest to Japan. Let's go."

Within an hour, Furōkawa stood on the coast, the salty air whipping around him. He turned to Emilia one last time. "Thank you," he said, his voice steady. "For everything. I promise I'll see you again."

Before she could respond, Furō launched himself into the sky, soaring eastward. The rain battered against his face as he accelerated, but it didn't matter. His thoughts were focused on one thing: the ominous presence in Japan.

"What the hell is happening in Japan!?" he muttered to himself, frustration lacing his voice.

Breaking his vow, he pushed his wings to their limit, cursed energy surging to 120%. The air around him tore apart as he rocketed forward, the rain stinging his skin as he healed the damage almost instantly.

Four hours later, the landmass of Japan came into view, illuminated faintly by moonlight. Furōkawa's sharp perception allowed him to pick up the chaotic clash in Shibuya almost immediately. His cursed energy flared as he summoned a Spear of Putrefaction, his instincts honing in on the epicenter of the conflict.

From the sky, he spotted Suguru Geto, or what appeared to be him, wielding an immense presence. Furōkawa hurled the spear, which split into a rain of projectiles. The cursed spirits around Geto and the other unknown sorcerer were annihilated instantly, though the sorcerers themselves escaped.

On the ground, Yuji Itadori looked up, his eyes wide with recognition. "That has to be Furōkawa! Gojo mentioned him before!"

The battlefield fell silent as Furōkawa landed in the destruction which was once Shibuya. His wings folded behind him like a cloak, their dark surface gleaming faintly.

"Damn it," he muttered, surveying the destruction. "I'm late."