"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐰." - 𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒚𝒂 𝒁𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏
⟶ He was born a king, and he reigned as a god. Gojo didn't walk-he crushed. His laughter slapped the w...
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✎⋆。°✩₊˚⋆✎°。⋆
The world of sorcerers was holding its breath, hanging on the edge of an abyss whose depths no one could yet see.
For four months, the most dangerous balance in Japan rested on an anomaly. A birth. A mistake of flesh and war, of silence and sex. A child born from a love no one dared to name, born from two enemy bloodlines thought to be incompatible.
The son of Chihiro and Satoru Gojo.
The son of the Gojo clan — heir to the Six Eyes.
The son of the Zenin clan — born from the womb of a cursed cousin, in a bed of chains and silence.
And for four months, the child had lived in the Zenin compound.
Gojo hadn't claimed him. Not yet.
But his fury simmered. Quiet. Absolute. Like the night before an earthquake. Some said he had locked himself away in an eerie silence. That he trained alone, without food, without sleep. That he hadn't spoken to any of his allies since the birth. Not even to Yaga. Not even to Chihiro.
It was this silence that terrified the elders. Not the shouting, not the threats. The void. The absolute calm of a predator just before the strike.
Yaga, one of the few still able to approach Satoru, had tried to soothe tensions. He pleaded that the child was not a trophy, but a bridge. That war between the clans would destroy everything — temples, sanctuaries, bloodlines. That Gojo, if he truly wished, could erase the Zenin estate in a single night.