Title: The Clockwork Heart of Scar

The biting wind whipped through the desolate canyons of Amestris, carrying with it the scent of dust and despair. Scar, the Ishvalan freedom fighter, stood silhouetted against the crimson sunset, his automail arms gleaming faintly in the fading light. He was a monster, a ruthless killer, his hands stained with the blood of countless State Alchemists. Yet, behind the mask of rage and vengeance, a broken heart beat faintly, a heart shattered by the horrors of war.

His memories were a tapestry woven with threads of fire and blood. He recalled the idyllic village of his childhood, the laughter of his brother, Al, their shared dreams of a peaceful future. Then came the war, the Ishvalan extermination, the indiscriminate slaughter of his people. He watched, helpless, as his brother was brutally murdered, his life extinguished in a flash of alchemic fire. That day, his heart shattered, leaving behind only a void filled with rage and a burning desire for revenge.

He became Scar, a symbol of Ishvalan resistance, a relentless hunter of State Alchemists. He sought not only justice, but also a measure of solace, a way to ease the unbearable pain that gnawed at his soul. Each alchemist he killed was a small victory, a fleeting moment of satisfaction that quickly faded, leaving him emptier than before.

His journey was a spiral of violence, a cycle of pain and revenge that threatened to consume him entirely. He found himself increasingly isolated, his hatred hardening into a bitter shell that prevented him from connecting with others. He was alone, a prisoner of his own grief, haunted by the ghosts of his past.

But one day, while tracking a State Alchemist, he stumbled upon a hidden village, a small community struggling to rebuild after the war. He saw in their faces the same pain, the same despair, that he carried within himself. He saw children playing amidst the ruins, their laughter a fragile melody in the symphony of destruction. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of something other than rage – empathy.

He found himself protecting the villagers, shielding them from the dangers that lurked in the shadows. He used his skills not to kill, but to build, to help them rebuild their lives. It was a slow, hesitant process, a journey fraught with self-doubt and internal conflict. He still carried the weight of his past, the burden of his actions, but he began to see a glimmer of hope in the future.

He knew he could never erase the horrors he had witnessed, nor undo the atrocities he had committed. But he could choose a different path, a path of healing and reconciliation. He could use his power not for revenge, but for the betterment of others. His journey to redemption was far from over, but he had finally found a reason to continue, a reason to mend the pieces of his broken heart.

Title: “THE PATH LESS TAKEN”

Eren is haunted by the faces and voices of the people he killed, particularly the innocent civilians who were caught in the destruction of the Rumbling. Their terrified screams keeps echoing in his mind.

“NOOOOO!”

“MAMAAAA..”

“Somebody..HELP M--”

Eren opened his eyes, surveying the dreadful damage caused by his actions. His guilt is noticable as the Rumbling goes on.

“This is for the people of Paradis Island...A sacrifice must be--”

Eren struggled to continue as he's now fully aware that his desire to protect Paradis Island and his belief in freedom were twisted into a path of destruction. Eren smiled and chuckled for a brief moment, then immediately change his expression to empty.

“I have to keep going.”

As Eren forces himself to push forward, destroying everything in his path, a figure suddenly appears in the distance, standing amidst the chaos. A young girl, barefooted and cloaked in white, the image of Ymir Fritz herself. Her glaze is blank, yet piercing, as if she's observing Eren's struggle.

“Ymir?” Eren questioned, his voice in confusion and surprised tone.

“Is this your vision of freedom?” Ymir replied.

Eren widened his eyes, then clenches his teeth, his jaw tight with emotion. He was about to utter a word when suddenly Ymir interrupts him by showing ghostly figures of those he's killed surround him.

“This--”

Suddenly, a familiar face steps forward from the crowd, it's Hange.

“You thought you could bear this weight alone, didn't you?” Hange says softly. “But Eren, even Titans can break.”

“Isn't this what you wanted, Eren? A world free of fear? Of enemies?” suddenly, the voice of Zeke echoes from within.

Eren stumbles backward, clutching his head, and begins to question his decision. Caught between Ymir's silent judgment, Zeke's cold logic, and the cries of the innocent, Eren faces a choice, continue the path of annihilation? Or find a way to stop the Rumbling? Even if it cost him everything.

As the ground shakes beneath him, Eren's eyes flicker with an idea, one so drastic it terrifies even him. But first, he must confront Ymir and the power of the Founding Titan.

Eren stands frozen, staring at Ymir as the Rumbling continues to destroy the land around him. The unpleasant sound of destruction is loud, but all Eren hears is the beating of his own heart.

“Ymir...” Eren says silently, stepping closer to Ymir. “You understand, don't you? You've suffered more than anyone. You had no choice.”

For the first time, Ymir's expression shifts a flicker of emotion passes through her ancient, empty eyes.

“But neither did they.” Eren continues, gesturing toward the ghost of the dead surrounding them. “I thought I was different, that I was doing this to protect the people I love. But all I've done is repeat your pain on a bigger scale.”

Eren grits his teeth harder, his jaw locking as he struggles to hold back tears. The memories of their shared dreams, seeing the ocean, fighting together, dreaming of a world without walls flood his mind.

“ I wanted to be a savior.” Eren whispers. “ But I've become their worst enemy.”

Ymir watches him silently, her expression unreadable.

Finally, Eren lifts his head, his teeth still clenched but his eyes burning with determination.

“No more. If I'm going to carry this burden, I'll carry it to the end. I'll give them a world where they can live... without Titans, without fear.”

Eren severs the threads of Titan power in the Paths, unleashing a blinding light that consumes him and Ymir. The Titans vanish from the world, their curse broken forever.

On the battlefield, Mikasa cradles Eren’s lifeless body, tears streaming down her face. “Why did it have to end this way?” she whispers, her heart heavy with grief.

Armin, standing beside her, sadden as well “He gave us freedom… at the cost of his own.”

Years later, Mikasa sits beneath a tree overlooking the sea, wearing the scarf Eren gave her. A bird flies overhead, soaring into the endless sky. She smiles faintly, whispering, “You’re free now, Eren. And so are we.”

Title: "The Mistress' Redemption Canvas"

Rashtas's POV:

" you, pathetic wh*re!"

My former master said as he slapped me across the face. The force was enough to trickle blood on my nose, glistening crimson red against my upper lip, tasting the iron rich blood that I had.

"So why? Why... How could they ridicule me for so-something and w-wanting anything I could have! Forgive me! Let me out! I'm i-innocent! I-i... swear, I was nice! I am kind to Navier, the Empress..... Oh! The beloved Empress! " I shouted, I didn't know what went wrong, I wanted to fight for myself. A selfish, wishful thinking of mine.

"You should've just died when we gave you the opportunity to do so"

He said and left me in the deepest, and coldest part of the dungeon. And almost instantly, I bawled my eyes out, I cried while hugging myself, begged as I held the steel bars that came telling me i can't get out.

"Where is his Majesty...?"

"He told me he would save me"

"He would save Rashta"

I closed my eyes as exhaustion took over my body. The walls, the floor, everything felt so cold, but the only thing I could think of, is how I ruined many lives, all because I wanted to get away.

But truthfully, I just wanted to get away from the man who killed my child.

I stole someone's husband by merely acting all innocent. I climbed up as I lifted the hem of my dress, presenting the promise of pleasure to the Emperor. I seduced a man, a wedded man, and begged him to make me the empress. I destroyed the hopes of my life because I became too greedy... To the point of having myself impregnated by a man who isn't the one I love. Even hoped that he'd love me even though the child wasn't his. I couldn't even protect my child from being slaughtered by the man that kept me tied down. I'm useless.

"I'm scared your Majesty, why haven't you come to save Rashta?"

I murmured while hugging myself tightly, almost digging my nails, inch by inch to my arms. Just then, the doors of the dungeon came bursting open, a shining light came down on me, as if heaven's spoken gently to my heart, telling me that everything will be fine. But the person who came here is the least expected appearance I anticipated.

"Rashta" she spoke, the shining light spoke as she looked at me, it was sympathy. Truth to be told, I hated how she looked at me, but I'm glad my morning star is here.

"Your highness... Empress Navier" as soon as I uttered those words, my eyes came rushing down with new found tears as she held my face with both hands. Her warm hands engulf me with the tenderness and anguish in her eyes. Was she sad for me?

"I-i... Empress.. p-please, forgive me, forgive Rashta.. I-i didn't know I just wanted to save myse-" I got cut off as she wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight.

"You must get out of here Rashta, you shall start a new life, I know everything that you did, I know how and why you ended up being here. But I've already forgiven you for everything that you have" She said gently to me, taking my ugly rugged hands to her grasp.

I nodded, it was shameless of me to start another life, let alone hold her hands with mine, but I believed that if I followed her out, everything would be alright. We used the backdoor of the dungeon and came out, horses were already waiting for us. The Empress held my hand and helped me escape the treacherous place of agony.

I looked at her golden locks of beauty and glory. And from that moment on, I realized about everything I did. And she was indeed the guiding light. I would devote myself to change for the betterment. No more mistresses, jewelries, accessories, power, money, everything that leads me to doom. I just have to accept the fact that I will find ways to make a new life. And I will start now from this very moment.

" I hope Navier forgives me. "

" I hope my baby forgives me. "

" I hope the people I hurt forgives....Rashta. "

Title: “Sasori: A life of Strings and I Shadows”

Sasori of the Red Sand, known as Master Puppeteer, born at Sunagakure (Hidden Sand Village) located at the Land of Wind.

We all know Sasori’s parents were killed by Sakumo Hatake, Konoha’s White Fang leader. However, fewer people know that Sasori was abandoned by his mother and rejected by his father.

His mother, Mei, a young kunoichi, lovingly gazed at her newborn son, Sasori. Joy and fear entwined within her, as their clans disapproved of the union due tol Sasori’s father being unmarried, prompting her clan to pressure her into abandoning the child.

Granny Chiyo, counseled her: “Raise Sasori, and your clan will disown you. Abandon him, and spare your family’s honor.” Mei chose the latter.

His father, Shinino, barely acknowledged Sasori.

As Sasori grew, Sakumo’s indifference persisted. Sasori eagerly showed his father intricate puppets, seeking validation. Shinubo merely grunted, dismissing his son’s creations. “Father, teach me ninjutsu!” Shinubo replied, “You’re better off with puppets, Sasori. You lack the potential.” Sasori’s eyes widened, hurt.

Granny Chiyo, raised Sasori. She recognized the loneliness in his eyes, echoes of her own past. “Sasori, come,” she said gently. “Let me teach you the art of puppetry.” Though loving, her busy schedule as Sunagakure’s respected kunoichi left Sasori feeling neglected.

Sasori grew up in a sad and lonely environment due to the absence of parental love. Sasori found solace in puppetry, meticulously crafting his mother and father that wouldn’t abandon him, but when he realised that the puppets could not give him the actual love that he desired, he became cold, aloof and led to his general disregard for human life. He claimed that his heart had become like his puppet body: without any emotions.

The Third Kazekage, Sunagakure’s formidable leader, gazed disdainfully at Sasori’s exquisite puppet, “The Dancing Kunoichi.” With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he sent the puppet crashing to the ground.

“You call this art?” the Kazekage sneered. “Childish amusement, nothing more.”

Sasori’s eyes blazed with fury and hurt. “You don’t understand!” he protested. “Puppetry is my life, my passion.

The Kazekage’s expression turned icy. “Your ‘art’ has no place in Sunagakure. You’re an embarrassment.”

Sasori’s world darkened, leading him to assassinate the Third Kazekage and become an S-rank missing nin. He concealed his crimes and subsequently met Konan, recruiting him to join the Akatsuki, an elite group of rogue ninjas who have. defected from their villages.

Sasori, hidden in his puppet, Hiruko, returned to his former village, Sunagakure, with Deidara to capture the One-Tailed Shukaku’s Jinchūriki, and the Fifth Kazekage, Gaara.

Sasori, unconcerned for his clan and village, wants to destroy Sunagakure, making them suffer like he did.

After Deidara captured Gaara, the Kazekage’s elder brother, Kankurō, attempted to stop the Akatsuki duo from fleeing. But Sasori confronted him and made quick work of Kankurō, poisoning and nearly killing him, and easily destroying his puppets, while battling Kankuro, Sasori felt that he sees his past to Kankuro. Kankuro’s determination reminds Sasori of his own lost passion.

After the Akatsuki members extracted and sealed the One-Tailed Shukaku from Gaara at the Akatsuki hideout.

Sasori was left to face Sakura Haruno and his grandmother Chiyo.

As they fought to the death, Sasori revealed his puppet form, shocking Granny Chiyo. “Sasori, what have you done?” she exclaimed. “That’s forbidden jutsu! Now, you’re nothing but a puppet!”

“I sought eternal life, transcending human limitations, to eliminate emotional and physical pain.

I rejected human weaknesses and emotions.” Sasori replied.

As Sasori prepared to attack again, it gave Chiyo a chance to use Sasori own puppet Mother and Father to stab him through his core, the only living part of his body in the form of an embrace.

As life seeped from his artificial shell, memories flooded his mind. Tears streamed down Sasori’s face.

With labored breaths, Sasori confessed to Chiyo, “I was blinded by pain and anger. Forgive me, Grandma... for the suffering I caused.” Chiyo cradled his head, whispering, “My dear Sasori, I always loved you.” Sasori smiled weakly, accepting his mortality.

As Sasori’s vision faded, His puppet body disintegrated, freeing his spirit. Sasori’s last whisper was, “Thank you... for understanding me.”

When Sasori died, Chiyo implied that Sasori could have avoided her last attack, but for some reason he chose not to.

Kankuro, informed of Sasori’s demise, mourned the idol he once admired. Kankuro inherited and honored Sasori’s creation.

Sasori’s grave bore an inscription:

“Here lies Sasori,

A soul trapped in puppetry,

Redeemed in his final breath.”

Title: "When Black Turn White"

Zeref Dragneel stood top a cliff on Tenrou Island, the sea stretching endlessly before him. His black robes fluttered in the salty breeze as he stared into the horizon. The curse of Ankhseram weighed on him like a relentless chaim, suffocating every fleeting moment of peace. The cursed wizard, feared across Fiore, had wandered alone for centuries. Deqth was his eternal companion, yet all he sought was to bring an end to his own suffering.

But today, something was different. A surge of magic rippled through the air, vibrant and chaotic, echoing with the fiery energy of life. Intrigued, Zeref followed it to a clearing where a group of mages stood, laughing and training beneath the Fairt Tail emblem. Among them was Natsu Dragneel.

Zeref froze. His younger brother os no longer a child, but a fierce and determined mage was sparring with his guildmates. Zeref’s heart ached. He had resurrected Natsu to defeat him, yet seeing his brother now, surrounded by the bonds of friendship, Zeref questioned everything.

Suddenly, Natsu noticed him. “Zeref!” he shouted, flames roaring to life in his hands. The Fairy Tail mages instantly took up battle stances, their magic flaring.

“I mean no harm,” Zeref said, raising his hands in surrender. His voice carried an unfamiliar gentleness. “I’ve come seeking redemption.”

Natsu snorted, stepping forward with fists clenched. “You? Redemption? After everything you’ve done? You’re joking, right?”

“I’m serious,” Zeref replied, meeting his brother’s fiery gaze. “I’ve caused enough pain. If there’s any way I can make amends, I want to try.”

Erza Scarlet stepped between them, her eyes sharp and unwavering. “And why should we trust you, Zeref? You’re the most dangerous wizard alive.”

“Because I have nothing left,” Zeref said, his voice cracking. “I can’t undo the past, but I can help you protect the future. That’s all I ask...let me help.”

The mages hesitated. The tension was palpable until Lucy Heartfilia placed a hand on Erza’s arm. “Maybe he’s telling the truth,” she said softly. “If he really wants to help, shouldn’t we at least hear him out?”

Erza sighed but nodded. “Fine. But if you step out of line, Zeref, we won’t hesitate to stop you.”

Zeref inclined his head. “That’s all I ask.”

For weeks, Zeref worked alongside Fairy Tail, sharing his vast knowledge of ancient magic to aid their battles against dark forces. Despite their initial distrust, some guild members began to soften toward him. Wendy Marvell often sought his advice on complex healing spells, while Levy McGarden pored over his insights into forgotten languages.

But not all moments were harmonious. One evening, while helping repair the guild hall, Zeref’s curse flared. The air grew thick with deathly magic, causing nearby plants to wither. The guild scrambled to contain the damage, and Natsu confronted him.

“See? This is why we can’t trust you!” Natsu shouted, flames sparking at his fingertips.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Zeref said, his voice filled with regret. “I can’t control it.”

Lucy stepped between them, her eyes firm. “Natsu, stop. He’s trying. Isn’t that enough?”

Natsu growled but backed off. “You better not hurt anyone,” he muttered before storming away.

Zeref turned to Lucy, his expression somber. “Why do you defend me?”

“Because everyone deserves a second chance,” she said, offering a small smile. “Even you.”

When the dark guild Tartaros began its assault on Fiore, Zeref’s resolve was tested. The demons of the Books of Zeref, his creations wreaked havoc, their destruction a grim reminder of his past sins. Fairy Tail prepared for battle, and Zeref insisted on joining them.

“Are you sure about this?” Erza asked as they marched toward Tartaros’s fortress.

“I must face the consequences of my actions,” Zeref replied. “It’s the only way forward.”

The battle was fierce. Tartaros unleashed wave after wave of demons, their power overwhelming even Fairy Tail’s strongest mages. In the chaos, Zeref confronted Mard Geer, the demon king and leader of Tartaros.

“So, the great Zeref comes to stop his own creations,” Mard Geer sneered. “How noble. How futile.”

“This ends here,” Zeref said, his magic flaring. “No more lives will be lost because of me.”

Their clash shook the battlefield. Zeref’s magic, fueled by centuries of pain and determination, overwhelmed Mard Geer, but the strain triggered his curse. Dark energy spiraled out of control, threatening to destroy everything around him.

“Zeref!” Natsu’s voice cut through the chaos. The Dragon Slayer charged toward him, flames blazing. “Don’t you dare give up now!”

“I can’t stop it!” Zeref cried, his power spiraling dangerously.

“You’re not alone anymore!” Natsu shouted, slamming his fists into Zeref’s chest. The fiery impact jolted Zeref back to his senses.

With Natsu’s encouragement, Zeref focused his magic, redirecting it into a single, concentrated spell. The energy engulfed Mard Geer, erasing him and his forces without harming the surrounding land.

In the aftermath, Zeref collapsed, exhausted. Natsu stood over him, arms crossed. “You’re an idiot,” he said, but there was no malice in his tone.

Zeref chuckled weakly. “Perhaps. But… thank you.”

The rest of Fairy Tail gathered around, their expressions a mix of relief and acceptance. For the first time, Zeref felt a flicker of hope.

Zeref remained with Fairy Tail, no longer a figure of fear but a quiet presence seeking redemption. He helped rebuild what had been destroyed, his knowledge of magic proving invaluable. Though his curse lingered, the bonds he formed with the guild gave him strength.

One evening, as the sun set over Magnolia, Natsu sat beside Zeref on the guild hall steps.

“You’re still a pain, you know,” Natsu said, smirking.

Zeref smiled. “And you’re still stubborn.”

“Guess that makes us brothers, huh?”

Zeref’s chest tightened, but this time it wasn’t from pain. “Yes. Brothers.”

For the first time in centuries, Zeref Dragneel felt something he thought he’d lost forever: hope.

Title: Dance Flamingo

"No! The weak don't get to decide anything!" Doflamingo shouted at the girl walking towards the door in the middle of the woods.

"Of course you would say that," said the girl as she giggled her way towards the doorway. "I will be back before dark. Bye!"

"Fancy pathetic human thinking this house would stand firm with me in it. This will go to ashes in a blink," Doflamingo mumbles as he sat at the corner of the wooden chair that the girl just nailed down the cupboards earlier. It was badly made. He did not expect anything better from a "low-life".

It's been a week since he was hurriedly brought by his foot to this nook after the intense chase-away from all the jailer beasts and Sadi's pets from the Impel Down. He did not know how or what exactly happened in the Newkama Land at the Level 5.5 above his prison level in the underwater prison but he went along with it. Perfectly in-synched escape from the same people his ideology despises. "There are no safe spaces on the battlefield!" He'd knew it in a splash of sunlight, and to the heaven's surprise, he indeed made it.

He looked around the room. Judging the impoverish life before his cat-eye tinted glasses, he kicked the stool which messed the dining even more. He disdains everything he is on: prisoner clothes, untreated wounds, dirt, and most of all, the idea of being powerless against the sea prism handcuffs that is keeping him from literally acting upon his destructive creeds.

He could bring down everything around him in that moment even with his bare skills but he knew it was apart from anything else - a very unwise thing to consider. The irony of the night he sought after his own salvation in this little house at the end of the alley in wherever forsaken country his desperation reached after sneaking to a vessel during the escape, he wanted to care less, but it would be damn of a lie. To his id, he still holds the same degree of authority that he had as a former warlord and a celestial dragon descent. It flows even in the tiniest veins in his brain, but to everything's bemoaning, again, it would be damn of a lie.

At the back of his mind, it was unnerving to make sure of the idea that he never let the girl touch him, treat him, feed him, and even address him like an ordinary human being. He would threaten the girl every day to leave the house as he owns it then until any of the Donquixote Pirates find him to desolation. At least that's what he thought.

Everything had been a little lighter since the day he pushed back that door and laid his body down defenseless in front of the stunned girl while she's in the middle of her sleep.

She kept him, with no hesitation. "Family are whom I've shared my joys and sorrows. They're the only thing I have! I won't forgive anyone that laughs at my family." Perhaps, his principles about strong ties walk its way through him finding a haven where he can be the same little child he was before murdering his own family for stepping out from his absolute perception of power. It was all coming back at him and all the heaven's dusts know it except for him.

And all for the saga to know, days, months, and years, gone by. Doflamingo have forgotten about his anticipation of getting find and not getting find at the same time. The irony of his life being the Heavenly Demon are now pages he kept under the sanity that the girl have woven for him.

He chuckles. "I didn't know there is an angle of life that looks like a fresh spring in the sea of a desert," he thought to himself while watching the girl put her hands up to her head while spinning around buoyantly.

"That's very awful. You look like an ill flamingo dancing in a bird cage nobody would thought is worth to break in," he said.

"Of course you would say that," giggles the little girl as she continue moving in the very same rhythm Doflamingo did earlier as he teaches her with his wrists off and handcuffs free.

Title: “Two sides of the same coin”

“Know your place, you fool.”

“In this world, only the strong ones survives. The weak has no rights, you should all just accept your fate and die.” Sukuna declared in front of the now battered up Yuji Itadori.

“How could you say something like that….Why do you value lives to be so little, it makes me sick. I’m…going to take you down!” Yuji uttered still grasping for air, fueled with rage.

As Sukuna let out a sigh, a belittling smirk could be seen on his face along with a mockering tone he uttered “How pathethic.”

As the surroundings heat up getting ready for the fight, the one coming out alive couldn’t have been more obvious but with a tight grip and determined eyes Yuji was ready to face it all.

This sight jogged a memory Sukuna had been trying to dismiss for a long time. As the fight starts to unravel Sukuna’s past memories starts replaying as if to remind him of his origin.

“You jujutsu sorcerers are a pain.”

-1000 years ago-

1000 years ago, in the Hida Province of Japan. In an era of curses, jujutsu sorcerers were being over powered by the curses. Seeking to find a solution, to create a weapon against the curses, they decided on partaking to inhuman experiments which would produce the what they called “the strongest”. The jujutsu sorcerers then proceeded on abducting children capable of using jujutsu and training them. Implementing the rule of survival of the fittest, one after another, children started dying. Engulfed by the darkness around them the children began to grasp the truth in which only the strongest will survive. Two of the children which showed exceptional abilities were twins, from successfully passing the tests to defeating curses. The system was now engraved to them, changing the way they perceive the world, deeming those weaker than them as low life beings. As time passes by, only a handful of people remain, as the thirst for power grew stronger within the jujutsu sorcerers they made a final test for them.

“KILL EACH OTHER”

The moment these words came out of the jujutsu sorceser’s mouth they all started to go on rampage, eagerly wanting to be at the top. One by one bodies started to drop until it was the last 3 people standing. The twins and what seemed to be another child, though badly injured, he had tight grip and determined eyes to survive. The other twin who couldn’t help but look at the battered up child killed him in a split second. With hands covered in blood he looked at his brother’s way.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us left.”

And with that exchange they started killing each other, the once strong bond they had was now gone.

The battle between the two strongest.

The fight took awhile to finish as the brothers are strong but one was clearly dominating. In a few moments the world went silent.

Now, only one is standing.

As the fight came to an end the jujutsu sorcerers couldn’t hide their joy as finally, they created the perfect weapon. “The strongest”. However, contrary to what they hoped, the twin who survived started to kill them one by one. Slowly… and painfully. One after another, jujutsu sorcerers tried to take him out but to only fail. Fearing he’d go out of control the Sun, Moon, and Stars Squad and the Five Empty Generals, the most elite of the Fujiwara Clan's forces, tried to stop him as well but ultimately fail. This marked fear in Japan at that time until he passed away, but this didn’t stop him as he went on to become a cursed spirit.

-1000 years later-

Marking his appearance now on the world, he once again brought chaos into the world. Is it anger? Is it sadness? He doesn’t know. All he’s designed to be was the strongest, this is what they made him to be. And now they’re back to that same darkness they’ve been. Now standing in front of him was his twin brother from the past, Gojo Satoru. And just like before, the jujutsu sorcerers also made way for them to fight. The history repeats itself. The world is cruel indeed. Back to that same position, Sukuna was still the strongest.

“You….what are you doing?…” Yuji uttered seeing Sukuna taking his own life.

“The jujutsu sorcerers are all gone, there’s no reason for me to be here anymore.” Sukuna declared as he’s slowly dying.

“Oi, brat. Better start running away and take those you can with you. I’ll explode.” Sukuna said with a smirk on his face.

Yuji who was confused at this confronted him about Megumi.

“Yeah, yeah Megumi will live. So go.” with this Yuji acted out and took those he could.

As he looked back on Sukuna he muttered “Why did he do this?”. He’ll never know.

Title: The Heart That Never Was

Have you ever felt like you weren't enough? Like no matter what you did, you'd never measure up to someone's expectations? That's my story—except I wasn't even human to begin with.

They called me Balladeer, Scaramouche, the Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers. Fancy titles for someone who started as nothing but a failed dream. My creator, the Raiden Shogun, threw me away like yesterday's trash. Imagine being born, only to be told you weren't good enough to exist.

Every night, I'd stare at my reflection, screaming "Worthless!" until my voice went hoarse. But deep down, I was just a child crying out, "Mom, why wasn't I enough?" The other Harbingers would look at me with mixture of fear and pity—the puppet who played at being human, the discarded son of an Archon who turned his pain into poison.

I thought if I became powerful enough, if I could just reach godhood, maybe then she'd look back and regret abandoning me. Maybe then, this ache in my chest would finally stop. Funny how a puppet could feel such human pain, right? I spent centuries building walls around myself, letting hatred fester in place of love, convinced that if I couldn't be loved, I'd make myself feared instead.

The humans around me were so fragile, so easily broken. I despised their weakness, or perhaps I envied their ability to feel so deeply, to form bonds I convinced myself I didn't need. Each act of cruelty was a desperate attempt to prove I was above such mortal concerns. Yet every tear I caused only hollowed me out further.

When I finally got my hands on that Gnosis, when divine power rushed through me, I thought I'd feel complete. Instead, all I could think about was her smile—the one time she looked at me with something close to pride. The way the stars used to comfort me on lonely nights when I wandered without purpose. Power couldn't fill the void of belonging I'd carried for so long.

It took losing everything for me to realize something so simple: I was chasing the wrong thing all along. Worth isn't measured in power or divine status. Sometimes it's in the smallest things—like choosing your own path, feeling the wind in your hair, or finally accepting yourself, flaws and all.

The Traveler showed me something I'd forgotten—that strength isn't about the power you wield, but the courage to be vulnerable, to admit when you're wrong, to try again even when everything seems hopeless. Each person they touched, each life they changed, did so not through force but through understanding and compassion.

Now, as I wander these lands again, I'm not searching for approval anymore. Each step I take is my own choice. Each smile, each tear—they're all mine. Real or not, this heart feels everything deeply. I'm learning that being discarded doesn't mean being worthless, that sometimes the cracks in our hearts let the light shine through more beautifully.

You know what's ironic? In trying so desperately to become a god, I found something better—I found out what it means to be human. And maybe that's okay. Maybe being broken and putting yourself back together is what makes life beautiful. Perhaps true divinity lies not in perfect power, but in the perfectly imperfect way we learn to love ourselves and others.

The wind feels different on my face now. Or maybe I'm the one who's changed. Either way, for the first time in my existence, I feel... free.