Forgotten Souls (JJK)

(A/N: Fuck u Bumta, I hate you. I demand power stones and reviews you bums)

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Blood and cinders filled the air, carrying the bitterness of a dying painting. The once proud halls of Jujutsu High now lay in ruin, remnants of battle scattered across the sight. 

Shattered stone, broken weapons, and tattered uniforms littered the battlefield like discarded relics of a lost war.

Yuta's breath caught as he stepped forward, his boots pressing into the wreckage ground. His heartbeat pounded in a fierce rhythm, not from exhaustion but from suffocation.

His friends lay scattered across the battlefield. 

Panda, barely conscious, his massive frame twitching as cracks ran through his form like a vase on the verge of shattering. 

Maki, her body lay limp, drenched in crimson blood oozing out from countless big and small wounds, her Cursed Tool snapped beside her. 

Inumaki slumped against the rubble unconscious, his throat was severely torn from overuse of his Cursed Technique. His uniform was stained with dark blood coming from his coughing.

Yuta's fingers curled into trembling fists.

This wasn't just a loss but a total annihilation.

He fell to his knees, his legs gave out before the sight of his precious friends lying across the field.

He scrambled over Maki's body with his shaky legs. His fingers twitched before reaching out, trembling as they hovered just above Maki's wounds. 

He didn't dare touch her. What if she was already—

No.

His chest shuddered.

This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

He was supposed to be here. Fighting beside them. Protecting them. 

"What do you think you are…?" He didn't belong to this Sorcerer society. He was just an ordinary person who got caught up in this weird situation. 

"…No." And yet, he truly couldn't deny it.

His vision blurred, but his hands refused to wipe away the tears.

It was his fault.

If he had been here just a little sooner or if he had fought harder, ran faster, and reached them before it was too late… maybe they wouldn't be like this.

Perhaps they would still be standing.

Perhaps they would still be alive.

The grief inside him spread like poison, sinking into his lungs, making it hard to breathe. His stomach churned with something heavy. His heart felt hollow and unbearable.

Then, his eyes turned.

Beyond the fallen, standing amidst the ruin like a monarch. 

He cladded in medieval knight armor pulsed with dying embers, looking utterly out of place in modern society. The flickering flame licked at the edges of his blackened steel only emphasized the mystery of the man. 

Each breath seemed to rekindle the molten veins that traced across his Warhammer like a slumbering volcano waiting to erupt. 

It rested casually over his shoulder in a mild manner, he seemed utterly bored as his gaze swept through Yuta.

Beside him was a woman, draped in unsettling grace, seemingly untouched by the carnage around her. If anything, she seemed to bask herself in the holy anthem sung by the fallen. 

Above her head was a grotesque halo of flesh that hovered like an offering only for her and her alone. She looked like a dark saintess dancing amid the world that was set ablaze just for her. 

Where the battlefield was soaked in the filth of flesh and blood, she remained pristine as if she did not belong to this wretched scene. 

She moved in accordance to the silent sorrow that only she could hear, a melody of a tale brought by the dying world.

For a moment, Yuta forgot the horror and the suffocating weight pressing on his chest.

She is simply beautiful…

And that terrified him more than anything.

Yuta's breath grew uneven as he snapped out of his thoughts, his chest rising and falling in uneven, shallow gasps. His stomach twisted and turned, bile rising in his throat.

For a rookie Sorcerer like him, the sight before him was simply too much to handle. It was as though he had stumbled upon a dying world where nothing but despair rampant freely.

He wasn't accustomed to the deeper horrors of the Jujutsu world yet, but even he could tell that this wasn't just raw power. 

It didn't just simply crush its enemies but rendered every last bit of meaningless resistance in the face of a great cause.

Then, Makima's gaze fell upon him at last.

Those spiral eyes of hers bore into him, not with malice, not even with amusement, but with something more quiet and silent, unreadable yet inevitability.

"You're quite late for a magnificent show." She spoke, her voice carrying a gentle lilt, as though she were merely greeting an acquaintance.

At her words, Veilhem shifted. His hollow, glowing eyes locked onto Yuta with an unknown meaning.

Something unspoken coiled in his chest, curling around his ribs, sinking deep into his bones. He felt his own Cursed Energy stir violently, reacting to the anguish consuming him.

Finally, Yuta exhaled as if already made up his mind, his Cursed Energy surging uncontrollably, a violent storm roaring in response to the devastation before him.

His blade materialized in his grasp. Yuta looked at his hands, trembling not from fear, but from the sheer rage that poured out from his soul. 

He took another step forward, his eyes turned sharp, devoid of any emotion. 

He wasn't thinking about winning.

He wasn't thinking about revenge.

There was nothing left in him but grief.

"...I'll kill you."

The words were said with silent conviction. It was a promise made in his heart.

Makima tilted her head, watching him with an almost amused curiosity.

Yuta shot up like a force of nature, fueled by loss and grief, unrelenting and raw.

But even in the face of such force, Veilhem did not falter.

He stood amidst the chaos, a monolith of ember-lit armor exuding a dreadful yet gentle heat. His Warhammer raised, a weight of judgment that would not waver.

The next moment, they clashed.

Yuta's katana met Veilhem's Warhammer in an explosion of Cursed Energy and Fire that ripped through the battlefield. 

The ground beneath them fractured outward like a spiderweb. Loose rubble shredded through the air like shrapnel.

It resulted in a loss as Veilhem easily pushed back Yuta's terrifying attack with ease.

But Yuta didn't stop there. If one was not enough then tens, hundreds, thousands should do the job.

His strikes were vicious, and relentless, each one carrying a piece of the grief that clawed at his heart. His movements became blurred but Veilhem moved to match him every time.

Steel met steel in their clashes, sending ripples of raging Fire and Cursed Energy upon each collision. 

Veilhem swung his Warhammer with the weight of a falling star, each movement was calculated down to the last. 

His footwork was slow and measured, pressing forward with the quiet resolve of a warrior worthy of the one who survived till the end of the world.

On the contrary, Yuta moved like a storm that had manifested itself in a human being.

He moved like a phantom, weaving effortlessly through the cracks in Veilhem's defenses. His body twisted and contorted in a way that could only be described as defying human limitations.

His Cursed Energy flared violently, surging through his limbs, his strikes flowing like an unrelenting force, one attack blending seamlessly into another, ceaseless as the rising tide.

Then, Veilhem made his move. With a sudden, unexpected motion, he released his Warhammer, letting it crash to the ground with a deafening bang. 

Before Yuta could react, Veilhem's gauntleted fist came down like a blacksmith's hammer, slamming against the weapon's handle as if driving a colossal nail into the earth itself.

The result was catastrophic. 

A shockwave erupted from the impact, a testament to the immense force behind that fist. 

The earth split, sending jagged rubble and shattered concrete flying in all directions. Dust filled the air like a thick fog, obscuring everything in its wake.

Yuta barely had time to adjust to what was happening before the ground beneath him gave way. The sudden tremor sent him reeling, he lost his footing in an instant. 

And that was all the opening Veilhem needed.

In a flash, the towering shadow appeared from the smoke and with it, a hulking mass of power and momentum. Veilhem charged forward like an unstoppable force, slamming his shoulder into Yuta's abdomen. 

The impact sent Yuta hurtling backward, his body crashing through the wall of a nearby building. A sharp gasp tore from his throat as he spat out a mouthful of saliva, pain radiating through his ribs.

But it was not done yet—Suddenly, Veilhem's fist was upon him.

Instinct screamed at Yuta, and at the last moment, he somehow managed to throw his body aside. 

The blow missed by a hair's breadth, the sheer force of it whistling past his ear, splitting the air like a cannonball.

But it also led to a subtle opening.

Yuta's fist shot up in an uppercut.

Albeit, Veilhem's other hand snapped out, grabbing him by the forearm.

Before Yuta could break free, a brutal knee drove straight into his ribs. Yuta fell to the ground, his frame curled up like a shrimp. He shot Veilhem a deathly glare.

But even then, Veilhem showed no hesitation as he followed up with another fist right at Yuta's face.

Had it not been for the fact that he was blessed with an immense Cursed Energy at birth that subconsciously protected him, Yuta would be dead meat by now.

Yuta snarled through gritted teeth, wrenching himself free, grabbing his blade, and slicing forward—

But Veilhem was already one step ahead. With a nimble flick of the back of his hand, he performed a perfect parry, and the katana slid down his gauntlet.

Veilhem grabbed Yuta's wrist and with a spin, his elbow slammed into Yuta's jaw, sending him staggering back, rattling his brain. 

He flailed his weapon widely and yet, another kick landed on Yuta's shin, making him fall over, rendering his effort useless.

He hit the dirt hard, tumbling before he plunged his sword into the ground. He jumped back to create some distance with that monster of a knight but surprisingly, Veilhem didn't pursue him.

His breath came in ragged gasps. His grip trembled.

Yuta watched as the knight picked up his Warhammer again and looked at him with a bored gaze as if asking 'That's it?'.

He walked slowly toward Yuta and brought down his hammer as a finality.

In desperation, Yuta gnashed his teeth and blocked it at the last possible second, feeling the heat of molten embers scorch the air above his head. 

His feet scraped against the shattered ground as he twisted, pivoting with fluid grace.

That was the moment he was inside Veilhem's guard.

He pushed Veilhem's hammer aside and struck.

A vicious palm strike slammed into Veilhem's chest, sending a pulse of Cursed Energy rippling through his armor. 

A second later, Yuta followed up with a spinning kick, his heel colliding with Veilhem's temple with a resounding crack.

The knight staggered back, albeit, just slightly.

Yuta didn't let up.

He pressed the attack, raining down his blows in a blur of raw ferocity. His fists, his elbows, his knees—he used all of it in a brutal flurry of close-quarters combat, a desperate attempt to break through the unshakable wall before him.

Veilhem remained still, absorbing all of them without flinching a bit. 

With precise movements, he deliberately pushed his body forward into those strikes, disrupting their momentum before Yuta could unleash his full strength.

It was just a small movement and yet it could dull the force behind those blows, nullifying their power. It just showed how much of a master Veilhem is in close combat.

Then—

A gauntleted fist shot forward.

Yuta barely had time to react before Veilhem's punch connected squarely with his gut.

The world lurched.

Pain surged up in his ribs as his vision blurred. His body lifted off the ground, the sheer force behind the strike sending him flying backward like a ragdoll. 

He crashed into the rubble with a sickening thud, skidding across the broken earth.

Dust filled his lungs. His ears rang.

But he still moved.

With shaking arms, he pushed himself up, coughing violently. His body screamed in protest, but he refused to stay down.

Veilhem stood over him now, Warhammer still resting against his shoulder, ember-lit eyes burning with unreadable intent.

Then—

Something in Yuta's mind snapped.

Behind him, Rika's form twisted, warping the space around them as if the world itself rejected her foul presence.

She let out a screeching scream.

"HOW DARE YOU?! HOW DARE YOU HURT YUTA?!"

The entire battlefield trembled as her energy surged, a raw, primal force that erupted outward like a tidal wave. 

The lingering shadows twisted and howled, stretching toward her as if drawn to something far darker than themselves.

She hugged Yuta's battered form and glared at Veilhem with seething rage.

The sheer force of their combined Cursed Energy sent violent cracks across the battlefield, carving deep scars into the earth.

"Oh. Your taste is questionable, kid." Veilhem murmured at the sight of the Curse that wrapped itself around Yuta, protecting him.

Rika's roar tore through the battlefield like a thunderclap, her colossal form a blur of fury as she lunged forward. 

Her massive claws arced through the air, aimed to carve through Veilhem with unrestrained malice.

But before the strike could land, chains erupted from the shadows behind the abyssal knight. 

Thick chain bindings wrapped around Rika's limbs, tightening and restraining her unnatural strength.

For a moment, the battlefield held still. Then—

A bestial snarl ripped from Rika's throat as she flexed her monstrous strength. The chains groaned, then snapped like brittle twigs. 

Her gaze snapped toward Makima, who had shot up the chains at her, but the latter remained impassive. She let out a deeper growl, seething with untamed rage.

Without hesitation, Rika opened her maw. Cursed Energy swirled violently, condensing into a massive sphere of destruction. The air crackled, bending under the pressure of its sheer power.

Realizing the danger of the attack, Veilhem in an instant moved. He threw himself toward Makima, pulling her in by the waist. He shielded her petite frame under the ominous glow of the incoming blast.

[Sanctuary of Gods]

A radiant golden flame flared beneath them, intricate runes etching themselves into the ground in spiraling patterns. 

The sacred incantation took hold to negate the attack in exchange for Veilhem's remaining MP. 

In other words, for the next 3 seconds, everything that Veilhem touched became effectively intangible.

The Cursed Energy blast tore through the battlefield like a cannon shot. But as it reached them, it simply passed through, wreaking havoc on everything behind them.

Everything that blast came through got deleted like it was never there to begin with.

As the golden light faded, Veilhem exhaled, shoulders lowering slightly.

"That was close." He muttered.

Makima didn't respond. Instead, she raised a hand in a gesture so casual that it barely seemed like an attack at all.

A single, delicate finger pointed from behind Veilhem's cape.

She locked on Rika's grotesque form.

And then—

"Bang."

The sound wasn't an explosion. It wasn't the roar of Cursed Energy or some bullshitary techniques. It was a simple sound that didn't belong on a battlefield, almost like a whisper.

And yet, the air cracked.

An invisible force slammed into Rika with the weight of an executioner's verdict. 

Her monstrous form flew back violently, the sheer impact rattling through her body before she even understood what had happened.

The ground behind her ruptured. A deep crater formed where the force had passed through, yet no visible attack had ever been seen.

For a moment, silence.

Then, a slow, ragged exhale from Rika, her massive claws digging into the earth to stabilize herself. Rika didn't get one shot from that but it rendered her useless for a while.

Veilhem turned his head slightly, glancing at Makima over his shoulder.

"That's hmm… pretty anticlimactic? Plus, do you really need to do this?" He mused as he looked at his cape which now had a hole in it.

Makima, still smiling, tilted her head.

"I'll give you another cape, don't be so stingy." She averted her eyes, looking utterly innocent even though she just punctured a hole in his cape. 

Subtly ignoring this topic, Veilhem let Makima off the hook and glanced at Yuta, who was lying flat on his back.

His sword? Gone. 

His dignity? Nonexistent. 

His will to fight? Currently in the process of submitting its resignation letter.

Smoke curled from his body as he stared up at the darkened sky, blinking slowly.

"Ow."

Veilhem loomed, looking down at him like a disappointed father watching his kid fail to get an A+ for basic math. The ember glow of his armor flickered softly as he tilted his head.

"You're surprisingly durable even after that severe beating." he mused. 

"For a guy who just landed on the ground face first, that is." The first words that came out from this strange knight were a mockery.

Yuta groaned. "Screw you."

"Quite a fierce fellow we got here."

"Shut up."

Veilhem said, crouching down like he had all the time in the world, "I'm still going to talk. What can you do? Beat me?"

Yuta lifted an arm in an attempt to sit up—

Veilhem just casually sat on his back and shoved him back down.

"Yeah, no."

Yuta wheezed. "I can still fight."

Veilhem raised an unimpressed brow. "Oh? You mean like how you just got your ass handed to you? Because listen, I respect the commitment, but maybe not the best strategy."

Yuta let out a noise that was somewhere between a groan and the sound of his soul leaving his body.

Veilhem sighed, resting his chin on his fist. "Listen, kid, I get it."

"The whole 'I'm full of vengeance, my friends are dead, now I must become an unstoppable murder machine' thing." Veilhem waved his hand dismissively.

"Been there. Done that. Got the emotional scars too."

Yuta's hands fisted the dirt.

"But let me tell you something." He leaned in slightly. "Revenge? It's kinda exhausting. And, not to be rude, but you suck at it."

Yuta just glared.

"Like, I was expecting something a little more… I don't know, more challenging? Maybe a cool one-liner before you attacked? But no, you just went full 'AAAAH' and charged at me like a pissed-off raccoon."

"I fucking hate you." Yuta deadpanned.

Veilhem grinned. "See? That's the spirit. Just channel that into something more productive, like not dying horribly next time."

Yuta groaned again, throwing an arm over his eyes in defeat.

And that's when Makima decided to make everything worse.

"Oh, Yuta-san." She teased, stepping forward with a smirk that was absolutely insufferable. "You're pouting like a child."

Veilhem snorted. "Yeah, kinda sad, honestly."

Yuta gritted his teeth and pushed himself up on his elbows. "You… killed them, didn't you?"

"Oh my." she sighed, stepping closer, her heels clicking against the rubble. "I never said that."

Makima knelt beside him, gently tilting his chin up with a single finger.

Her eyes gleamed.

"Your friends?" she whispered, voice dripping with amusement. "They're fine."

Silence followed her words as Yuta blinked.

His brain failed to process this obnoxious situation.

"...WHAT."

Makima giggled while Veilhem sighed, shaking his head as if he were looking at something absurd. "Y'know, you could've started with that before I had to hammer this kid into the ground."

"Oh, but then we wouldn't have had this lovely moment. Where else can you find such a wonderful boy taking revenge for his friend, shouting 'I'd kill you'?" Makima mused.

"You've got a point."

Yuta, still flat on the ground, looked between them, his entire existence crumbling.

"So... so you're telling me—" he inhaled sharply. "I just got beaten for NO REASON?!"

Veilhem grinned. "Oh, there's a reason."

"Yeah?" Yuta snapped. "And what is it?"

Veilhem patted his head like a misbehaving puppy.

"Partly because I heard about a new transfer student coming in this year and the Higher Ups wanted us to eliminate you behind Gojo's back."

Yuta's expression turned strange and a hint of panic appeared in his eyes. Even a dumbass could deduct that it was because of Rika.

"Don't worry, we don't really care about what those geezers want." Veilhem reassured the boy when Makima suddenly glanced at him with strange eyes.

"It's strange to call others geezers when you're probably as old as the earth itself, Veilhem-san."

"...Fuck you." Veilhem deadpanned at her words.

"You already did that…" She replied with the most casual expression like discussing the weather. 

"What?"

"What?"

"Anyways, we are doing this because it's funny. You should have seen your expression back then." He masterfully navigated this awkward situation by changing it back to teasing Yuta.

Yuta screamed internally and externally.

Meanwhile, Makima simply smiled, brushing off her dress as she stood. "Well, that was entertaining."

Veilhem chuckled. "Tough luck, kid. Now if you excuse us, we gotta get that first row seat to see this show."

After leaving those words, they left.

Yuta lay there, contemplating about his life and how much he hated them both.

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(A/N: Guys, I just realize Makima is too op for this verse. Imagine she uses 1000 civilians and have them called Gojo or Sukuna's name then twist her palm. Boom, direct attack on the soul.

Or reverse the blood flow in their body like with Darkness Devil. Can't even use RCT to counter since it will be considered a poison attack to the brain. 

Worst yet, they can't even kill her. Probably only Mahoraga can counter her bs but one shot him is so easy with a bang.)