𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑴 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑺 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐋𝐈 - 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑

THE GOLDEN HOUR. To Keisuke, it was that solitary hour before sunset and that single first hour after sunrise when the sun lit up the sky in soft yellows and deep golds. To Mikazuki, it was the final hour after an injury, that short span of time during which treatment was most likely to be effective.

To him, it had been a dream, a window into a world of reverie and a living daydream, To her, it was the endless ruthlessness of the world, a fight for survival in a place that craved death. The Kinzoku carried the sun in their veins, and both siblings had bled enough of it. This was the Golden Hour, a perpetual ocean where golden waves crashed against the shores, a world made of precious gold that dripped from the walls, thick like honey and sparkling with life.

The power of the Kinzoku. The power of Mikazuki. A power she believed had been bestowed upon her by the gods. A power which had been stolen, according to the words of a low-life Curse whose truths could not be trusted. Except Mikazuki didn't doubt her clan was capable of such a thing – the Kinzoku were liars, they were thieves, and most of all they were ruthless, always craving for more power, no matter the cost.

The Golden Hour had been Keisuke's daydream, but today it was going to be this Curse's nightmare.

Gojo Satoru exhaled loudly, air slowly leaving his lungs as he took in the world around him. The last time Keisuke had used his domain, the boy had been on a mission with Gojo and the Curse turned out to be more troublesome than either of them – or the Magistrate, for that matter – expected.

Satoru's domain was deemed to destructive to handle the situation (as it often happened considering the chaos he carried within), meaning the responsibility to exorcise the being had fallen on the young dark-haired Kinzoku. And so, Kei had laid out his own domain, gold pouring out from his cracked arms and engulfing the world around him until it was completely unrecognizable.

Gojo's domain was beautiful in its own way; the void and the emptiness hiding beneath the cracks of the world coming forward and drowning the senses of his opponent in an endless cycle of destruction. Keisuke's domain, on the other hand, was simply glorious. Whether it was the shimmering gold that coated the walls or the liquid waves of molten glitter that dripped from the ceiling, it was the most enchanting sight Satoru had every laid his eyes on – and that was saying something.

There was something infinite about it, almost in the same way his Limitless could break the barriers of reality, bending them to his will.

It was easy to forget the beauty of it – Satoru certainly had, even when Keisuke's death still had the power to make his heart skip a beat and drowning it in sorrow. Following the Kinzoku's departure, the Gojo heir didn't think he'd ever get the opportunity to witness it again. Yet, here he was; standing in a sea of golden waves, the liquid lapping around his legs and coating his uniform in glitter and sparkles.

The Curse shivered, its claw-like arms bending at an odd angle before the creature's gaze landed on the sorcerers. Its dark eyes remained void, yet there was a hint of fear in them – the kind of fear no Curse should ever face, but when put face to face with Mikazuki's domain, there was little else it could feel.

"𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢?" it seethed, stumbling back only to be met with another sheet or pure solid gold "𝔚𝔥𝔬 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲?" it asked again, a shadow of fear falling over its words.

Mikazuki kneeled on the ground, a strange pulling sensation climbing through her arms, right over the golden cracks that broke her pale skin. She could feel a trail of blood falling from her nose, the gold in her veins yearning to escape as it rippled from the inside, but the sorceress refused to show any sign of weakness, even when her body was tearing itself apart to keep this terrible mirage.

The Kinzoku tightened her jaw, straightening her back as she pulled herself back together. The woman swallowed hard, quickly brushing away the blood from her nose before settling her sunset eyes on the Curse. She could feel Satoru's gaze lingering on her figure, but the sorceress had other things to worry about.

"You're in my domain now" Mikazuki announced proudly, a sliver of her soul shattering to pieces when she realised it was no longer a lie.

The Golden Hour – a domain which had once been Keisuke's but was now hers. Oh, how much she wished she could give it back, anything so she could have her twin flame beside her once again. But reality was harsh, and Mikazuki was about to make it even worse for the measly creature currently standing in front of her.

This is my domain, now. Every inch of her skin itched, almost as if the blood in her veins was trying to protest her thoughts, proving that it was not in fact hers. And yet, Mikazuki had still managed to pull it off. Satoru watched her, something strange flickering in his gaze before it travelled towards the rest of the space.

The gold was overwhelming, he could feel the power of Mikazuki's bloodline throbbing against his, the unrelenting Cursed Energy of the Kinzoku overlapping over his until it was nothing but a small flame surrounded by a sea of gold. The sorcerer narrowed his eyes as he tried to even his breathing. This was impossible – not completely impossible, but improbable enough to make him pause.

Gojo looked around once again, almost like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He couldn't. Sorcerers couldn't share domains, let alone borrow them. It was almost unheard of, like a long forgotten legend of a time they didn't belong to, like some sort of sacrilege that should never be even attempted. And yet, Satoru didn't doubt for a single second that Mikazuki had somehow managed it. She'd done the unthinkable – the impossible.

Kinzoku Mikazuki had completely assimilated her brother's domain – and she'd done it so well, it was now hers.

He could feel it in the magic, in the Cursed Energy dripping from the walls or in the whirlwind of power that lived in her soul. There wasn't a single ounce of magic to prove this had once been Keisuke's. There was nothing of him in this golden wonderland, not a single trace of his soul, as if he had never existed in the first place. Something about that sounded particularly unholy, which is why Satoru took a deep breath before turning towards the sorceress, a wary expression on his face.