"Hollow Purple!"
Gojo's signature technique tore through the battlefield like a storm of destruction, consuming three apostles in its path but when the smoke cleared… they stood unfazed.
Yuta charged forward, combining his cursed energy with Rika, slashing down with a roar.
Slam!
His blade connected
But the apostle caught it with two fingers, expression blank.
"This is full power?" one of the apostles said flatly.
"Pathetic."
Sukuna snarled.
"Then try this Cleave: World Severance."
His next strike twisted reality itself, cracking through one of the apostles' ribs. For a second, it seemed like a breakthrough
But then the apostle grinned and healed instantly.
Mahito launched a monstrous wave of soul manipulation, distorting the battlefield only for the apostles to step through it like mist.
Mahoraga's wheel spun, adapting to the apostles' cursed signature, and the beast landed a punch strong enough to flatten a building. One apostle stumbled
Then looked at Mahoraga with cold amusement.
"You are nothing like your creator, beast."
All around the battlefield, dragons summoned by the apostles began to awaken again. The skies darkened, thunder cracking like war drums.
Gojo's chest heaved.
He turned to the others.
"They've barely even begun to fight."
Yuta's voice cracked.
"Are we… are we just toys to them?"
An apostle stepped forward, towering above them all.
"You have strength… yes. But compared to Itarim's will, you are insects clinging to illusions of power."
"We were sealed for eons… and now we stretch our arms in a world unguarded."
The apostles raised their hands and the ground began to split, as if the laws of nature were collapsing around them.
Gojo activated his Domain Expansion: Unlimited Void.
"Then we fight. Until we can't anymore."
All of them Gojo, Sukuna, Yuta, Mahito, Mahoraga rushed again, techniques blazing, curses flying.
And yet
The apostles only smiled.
They were just getting started.
---
Far beyond Earth, beyond time, beyond space, in a fractured void between realms Sung Jin-Woo moved like a shadowed god, carving through darkness.
Around him, a legion of apostles fell one by one their screams silenced before they could even echo. His obsidian blade cut through them like smoke, and with every strike, his mana pulsed violently, shaking the dimensional boundary.
"Tch… still too many," Jin-Woo muttered, his eyes glowing with sovereign black fire.
He raised his hand.
"Arise."
Behind him, countless shadow soldiers, millions strong, rose again and rushed into battle under his command.
Suddenly
A ripple in space.
Bellion's voice echoed into his mind, trembling with urgency.
> "My King Earth is under attack. The Apostles of Itarim… they've arrived. The humans are struggling."
Sung Jin-Woo froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing.
> "Is Gojo Satoru alive?"
"Yes, but barely holding out."
He turned his gaze toward the shimmering boundary of the crack behind him a faint image of Earth flickering beyond it.
He clenched his fists.
"I can't cross… not yet. My mana is too dense," he said bitterly.
"If I force my way through, the dimensional laws will collapse… and Earth with it."
He looked around. Apostles still poured into the void, a seemingly infinite army trying to trap him away from his world.
"So this was their plan…"
To keep him sealed in a war between dimensions while the real strike happened on Earth.
Sung Jin-Woo's expression darkened.
"You're trying to burn my home while I'm caged in your ashes?"
His shadow wriggled, reacting to his fury.
"Fine..."
He raised both hands his entire army rising behind him, including Beru, Igris, Tusk, and even Kamish reborn in shadow form.
"Then I'll end your legions... and force the dimension itself to break for me."
His voice was low unshakable.
"Wait for me, Earth. I will return… and when I do"
"I'll erase the Apostles from existence."
---
Boom!
Another shockwave thundered through the ruined city. Skyscrapers collapsed like dominoes, and the sky cracked with unnatural lightning as the Apostles of Itarim fought with chilling ease.
Gojo wiped the blood from his lip, panting.
"They're not even trying," he muttered, watching one Apostle casually dodge Sukuna's Cleave like a gentle breeze.
"Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine!" Sukuna roared, slashing the battlefield into pieces.
But the Apostle grinned.
"Fascinating. Is this the best curse in your world?"
Yuta, gritting his teeth, unleashed everything he had with Rika at his side, striking one Apostle square in the chest
Only for the creature to catch his blade with one hand.
"This is getting boring," another Apostle sighed, brushing off Mahito's soul manipulation like lint.
Mahoraga's wheel spun wildly, adapting faster and faster, but even with that divine advantage, the Apostles simply kept up effortlessly. They didn't fight seriously they toyed with them.
Itadori, exhausted and bruised, ducked behind cover with Megumi.
"We're not winning… We're not even close."
Gojo's voice rang out:
"Everyone, focus! Don't fall apart we haven't lost yet!"
But even he couldn't hide the desperation in his tone.
Suddenly
An Apostle let out a chilling laugh.
"You really thought this was a battle?"
He raised his hand to the sky.
In an instant, dozens of dragons descended again, black-scaled beasts brimming with corrupted mana.
Gojo turned to the team.
"Evacuate the civilians fall back if you must. I'll hold them."
"No, sensei!" Itadori shouted.
"We fight with you!"
Boom!
A wave of cursed energy exploded, and a monstrous Apostle slammed his palm into the earth, cratering the battlefield and hurling everyone backward.
"This world is but a candle," the Apostle said.
"And we are the storm that snuffs it out."
From above, another Apostle whispered:
"And not even your strongest… can relight it."
The battlefield was a devastation. The city had long since crumbled into ruins, the earth itself scarred by the clash of powers. Gojo, Sukuna, Yuta, and the rest of the sorcerers fought valiantly, their energy running low—but the Apostles of Itarim barely seemed to notice.
Gojo's eyes glinted with frustration, his Limitless swirling around him like a barrier, each shockwave from the Apostles creating ripples in the air.
"You've got to be kidding me," Gojo muttered.
The Apostles were moving in slow motion, but every time he launched an attack, they simply dodged, dismissing his efforts with lazy ease.
The Apostle facing him, a towering figure with glowing eyes, flicked its wrist, sending a burst of cursed energy that sent Gojo flying backward into a shattered building.
"You don't seem to understand," the Apostle said, its voice echoing in the ruined streets.
"Your power means nothing. We are the gods of this world. Your struggle is futile."
"Futile, huh?" Gojo growled, rising to his feet, a crackling energy surrounding him.
The Apostles seemed entertained by his persistence. They had yet to break a sweat. Their overwhelming power was a far cry from anything Earth's sorcerers had faced. It was as if they were playing with their prey.
Sukuna was no better off.
He had unleashed his domain, his cleave, and dismantle, yet the Apostles just regenerated or shifted out of the way with inhuman speed. One even caught his blade mid-swing.
"Are we even doing anything to them?" Sukuna growled, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"These things are monsters."
Yuta, exhausted but determined, summoned Rika to her fullest. He struck with everything he had, but like a speck of dust against the tide, the Apostles barely flinched. They swatted Rika away like a mere nuisance.
Mahito, his body contorting, tried to manipulate their souls, but the Apostles just laughed at his futile attempts.
"You think you can touch us? Let me show you true power," one Apostle said, its aura flaring.
In an instant, Mahoraga's wheel spun, his divine beast form slamming into the Apostles with unmatched strength. For a moment, it seemed like they were winning, but the Apostle simply raised a hand, sending Mahoraga crashing to the ground with a single wave of energy.
"You're all the same," the Apostle continued, his eyes glowing with amusement.
"You mortals struggle and scream, but your power pales in comparison to the true gods. You cannot save your world."
Itadori, panting, ran beside Gojo, ready to throw himself back into the fray.
"We're not giving up," he shouted, determination burning in his eyes.
"We're not losing this fight!"
But just as they prepared to strike again, another Apostle appeared behind them, blocking their way. It grinned coldly.
"It's cute you think you can keep fighting, but your efforts are meaningless."
The Apostles' laughter echoed across the ruins. Their strength was limitless, and they reveled in the despair of their opponents.
"You're insects to us," the Apostle said, his smile growing wider.
"Your world will burn, and you will be nothing more than the ashes of a forgotten time."
The battlefield was a scene of devastation. The once-pristine city had turned into a graveyard, its skyline reduced to rubble. In the chaos, the Apostles of Itarim stood unyielding, their power overwhelming. The sorcerers Gojo, Sukuna, Yuta, and the others fought desperately, but their strength seemed insignificant against the sheer might of their enemies.
And then, Mahoraga the divine beast summoned by Sukuna, the key to their last hope, charged forward once more.
"Don't hold back!" Sukuna roared.
"Use everything you've got, Mahoraga!"
The wheel of Mahoraga spun, adapting to every attack, every change in the flow of battle. The beast had always been their trump card, capable of adjusting and growing stronger with each strike.
Mahoraga barreled toward the nearest Apostle its massive claws slashing through the air with terrifying force. A blast of energy exploded as Mahoraga collided with the Apostle's defense, shaking the ground beneath them.
But to everyone's shock, the Apostle simply smiled, raising a hand. With a flick of the wrist, a dark energy radiated from its body, and the very space around Mahoraga began to distort.
"You think you can stand against the will of Itarim?" The Apostle's voice was mocking.
"You are nothing but a tool."
In the blink of an eye, Mahoraga was frozen mid-air, its powerful strikes suspended by a barrier of black energy. The Apostle's eyes gleamed as the world around Mahoraga twisted, contorting the beast's body in unnatural ways.
"No! Mahoraga!" Sukuna shouted, eyes wide with disbelief.
He rushed forward to assist, but before he could even react, the Apostle extended its hand, and with a terrifying crack, Mahoraga's body shattered into a hundred pieces.
A sickening silence followed as the remains of Mahoraga fell to the ground.
"It's over," the Apostle whispered.
The beast the last vestige of their hope was now nothing more than dust. The battlefield trembled with the impact of Mahoraga's fall.
Sukuna stood frozen, his expression a twisted mixture of rage and disbelief.
"No… no! You'll regret this!" His voice echoed with fury.
But the Apostles of Itarim remained unfazed. They stared down at Sukuna, as if the death of their greatest weapon was nothing more than a casual inconvenience.
"You overestimate your worth," the Apostle said, its voice almost pitying.
"Your struggle was… amusing, but it is time for you to understand the truth. You cannot win."
Sukuna's face contorted with fury as he turned to his remaining allies.
"We can't give up… Not now. This isn't over."
But deep down, even he felt the sting of defeat. Mahoraga had been their last hope their ultimate weapon and now it was gone.
And in the distance, the other Apostles watched coldly, their power still untapped, their hunger for destruction far from quenched.
"You'll all fall the same way," one of them taunted, as the others stood silent, waiting for the final moment of destruction.