Jujutsu Kaisen: Tickless

Timeframe: One day after Akira's incomplete domain attempt.Location: Tokyo Jujutsu High, Lower Containment Chamber.

The chamber wasn't a cell, not officially.

But it had no windows.

No clocks.

And only one door, reinforced with a cursed seal that pulsed with Gojo's energy signature. Just enough pressure to keep a curse in. Or a broken sorcerer.

Akira sat cross-legged on the center mat, head bowed, arms limp. His breathing came in even intervals—calm, mechanical. Too calm.

He hadn't said a word since they brought him in.

The walls were warded with sutras. The floor, engraved with anti-temporal latticework carved by Yaga himself. The spell was designed for another cursed item long forgotten. They repurposed it—for him.

"You sure this is enough?" Shoko asked, flicking ash from her cigarette as she watched from the one-way barrier.

Gojo didn't answer at first. His blindfold was off. Not because he needed to see—because he wanted to feel.

He was watching for flickers. For breaks. For that pull in space-time that signaled another fracture in reality.

"He's not trying to escape," Gojo finally said. "He's waiting."

Shoko looked at the vitals monitor. "Cursed energy output's erratic. Keeps syncing with residual domain readings underground. He's not stable."

"No shit," Gojo muttered.

Somewhere beneath Tokyo — A Slumbering Womb Begins to Beat.

A ripple of cursed time surged from an ancient, unseen point—where roots twisted around shattered bones and ink-black glass pulsed like a heart. The Anchor Womb—long dormant—responded to Akira's fractured soul.

It stirred.

And with it, Kenjaku opened his eyes.

Elsewhere — Kyoto Jujutsu High

Momo Nishimiya sat in silence at the campus rooftop. Her phone buzzed.

[URGENT]Subject 14 (Rensetsu, Akira) has entered containment. Psychological degradation critical. Echo event predicted.- Jujutsu HQ, Cryptic Surveillance Division

She tightened her grip on the device. She had watched him—observed his rewind anomalies, reported the anchor sign he unknowingly used in training. She hadn't known what it meant. Now, the higher-ups called her a "viable interface."

"You're going to Tokyo," Gakuganji had told her hours earlier."As what?" she asked."A tether."

Back in Containment

Akira trembled.

He didn't feel pain anymore. That had dulled.He felt weight. As if every version of himself that ever died now sat behind his ribs.

He looked up.

There, on the ceiling, a flicker. One of the echoes.

No—five.

One had burn marks. Another wept without tears. A third bled from the mouth, twitching like a dying insect. They didn't attack. They waited.

"You're not me," Akira whispered.

But they were.

Each death. Each rewind. A version left behind.

Gojo stood outside.

"He's going to lose it," Shoko said. "Another trigger like that domain, and—"

"No," Gojo cut her off. "He already lost it. We're just watching what's left spiral."

At the same moment, in a shrine cloaked in silence…

Kenjaku, still in Suguru Geto's body, performed the final chant.

The Anchor Womb's seal cracked audibly.

"Let time fold," he whispered. "Let the seconds rebel."

Akira stood up.

His eyes—cracked with gold.

One of the echoes reached for his throat from behind his reflection in the glass.

And smiled.

"Tick, tick, tick…"