Gojo Satoru

The air around them felt thick, as if vibrating with the cursed energy that filled it. Breathing became difficult, as if swallowing something dense, like liquid ozone. Shinjuku, once so vibrant, now lay around them, a silent pile of concrete rubble and crumpled metal.

Satoru Gojo stood ten steps away from you. He held himself surprisingly casually: his hands rested in the pockets of his uniform trousers, and a slight, almost indifferent smirk played on his lips. A white blindfold obscured his gaze, capable of seeing the very essence of reality, but you felt it in your bones, literally scanning you, revealing your fear and your strength.

"You know," his voice cut through the dead silence with surprising clarity , "you have quite a bit of potential. It's just a shame you decided to waste it trying to kill me. It's like trying to scoop out the ocean with a spoon full of holes."

(tgk: fiznamazyak)
You took a step forward, and the crunch of broken glass was heard beneath your boots. The cursed technology inside you roared, demanding release, but your instinct for self-preservation screamed shrilly for the exact opposite. Gojo slowly raised his right hand, folding his fingers into that same, painfully familiar and chilling gesture.

"Well then, come on over," he bowed his head slightly, and the smile on his face widened even further, revealing his teeth. "Show me something interesting before this is all over."