Jujutsu Kaisen:Thousand Year Nemisis War

Who are you calling your grandson, old hag?

The sterile black fences of the rooftop pressed on Kenzo Takefurukuma, a suffocating reminder of the emptiness that clung to him. He jolted up, looking around with malice in his eyes.

Neon lights shined above him, buzzing like agitated bees. He blinked, trying to make out his surroundings.

He knew his name and his basic curse technique, but beyond that, he seemed to be at a loss. His memories were still there, but all jumbled up and tangled, making him confused.

He swiped a punch at the air in his annoyance, and a gaping hole appeared in a nearby skyscraper. It crashed, rumbling to the ground as if struck by an asteroid, generating screams, alarms, and breaking the barrier set up in the vicinity.

There was a clear gulping noise, obviously made in fear, and so Kenzo turned his head to find an old woman sitting a few feet away, wincing at his sheer power.

"Just so you know, I didn't do that on purpose," Kenzo remarked nonchalantly. "It's just that I haven't gotten used to this excuse of a vessel."

This did not seem to calm the old woman; in fact, she started trembling like captives in prison camps, awaiting their fate to be decided by the victor. What a familiar sight, Kenzo thought.

And so it was that Kenzo decided to patiently wait for some exposition to come from the old lady, as if he were watching a clown clumsily performing on the stage.

"G... Grandson?" was all that came out of the woman's mouth after what almost felt like a century of waiting. This slow response instantly drained all of Kenzo's goodwill and patience, swinging his mood from pleasantly curious to very annoyed.

"Who are you calling your grandson, old hag?" Kenzo's face was now glum like a thunderstorm. "I'll give you another chance. Tell me about the situation I'm in."

The woman seemed to ignore his impatient prompts and sank into a confused frenzy of verbal nonsense.

"Impossible, I... I merely summoned his body, not his soul. You cannot possibly have come back. Stop pranking your grandma!"

This line of reasoning was apparently very funny to Kenzo, and he burst out laughing for a straight 30 seconds.

"First impression of sorcerers of your era, ma'am," Kenzo chuckled between outbursts of hysterical laughter, "you have quite the ambition, but lack the pluck."

And after this conclusion, three gaping blood holes opened up in the old woman's body: one on her head, the second on her heart, and the third on her spine. He watched in amusement as the disfigured body collapsed on the ground.

Kenzo sighed, the kind of sigh you make after a good laugh. He turned his gaze away from the old woman's lifeless body, his expression now one of utter disinterest.

The sound of sirens, once distant, began to grow louder, the shrill wails echoing through the narrow corridors of the city streets below. He could sense the tension building, like a storm about to break, and he welcomed it.

"Just like old times," he muttered, rubbing his temples as if to shake loose the tangled web of memories still fogging his mind. The skyscrapers around him stood like silent witnesses to his power, their glass faces reflecting the neon lights that bathed the rooftop in an otherworldly glow.

He looked at the gaping hole he had inadvertently created in one of them and smirked. A memory-faint but persistent-tugged at the edge of his consciousness: battles, blood, and a different time when he had been feared and respected.

Suddenly, he felt a presence approaching. No, multiple presences. Curses-strong ones, and sorcerers too. His cursed energy was attracting enemies like the North Star in the night sky. He could almost taste the cursed energy in the air, thick with the promise of violence.