Threads of Infinity chapter 10: The Weight of power
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a blood-red hue across the barren training ground. Tsukasa stood at the center, his white hair now longer, his face sharper with the angularity of adolescence. His blue eyes, once bright with the innocence of childhood, now held a cold, steely intensity that mirrored the aura surrounding him.
His fists clenched at his sides, and cursed energy swirled violently around him, crackling with raw power. The ground beneath his feet shattered under the weight of his presence, sending tremors through the air as he struggled to keep himself in control.
"Focus," Tsukasa muttered to himself, gritting his teeth as the energy surged uncontrollably. The anger inside him was a beast, relentless and hungry. It had been years since Satoru left, and the loneliness of those years had transformed into something darker—a driving force that gnawed at his insides.
He could still hear Satoru's words echoing in his mind, the distant memory of that conversation haunting him: "You'll understand one day."
But Tsukasa hadn't understood. Not then. And he still didn't.
His rage intensified, and in a flash, the air around him turned to a vacuum. The very space itself bent, as though unwilling to contain the raw power he was unleashing. Infinity. It had become a part of him, like a second skin. A barrier no one could breach. Yet, for all the power it gave him, it only made him feel more isolated.
"I don't need anyone. Not anymore."
A rumbling sound broke through his thoughts.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tsukasa spotted an elder from the Gojo Clan approaching, their face lined with disapproval. The older man's gaze was sharp, yet there was an underlying sadness that Tsukasa didn't care to acknowledge. The man's presence seemed to command the very air to stiffen, but Tsukasa barely spared him a glance.
"Tsukasa," the elder called, his voice heavy with authority. "You're wasting your potential. It's time you trained with discipline, not rage."
Tsukasa's lips curled into a sneer, his eyes narrowing. "Discipline? You left me to rot in this place. Now you want to tell me how to use my power?" His voice dripped with bitterness.
The elder didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, raising a hand as if to slap Tsukasa into submission. The movement was swift, practiced—a typical response to unruly behavior. But Tsukasa, with a growl of frustration, brought his hand up to catch the elder's wrist, stopping the slap mid-air.
The elder's eyes widened in surprise as Tsukasa's cursed energy swirled around him like a storm. Infinity flared to life, the elder's hand hovering just inches from Tsukasa's face, suspended by an invisible force. The pressure was immense, and the elder found himself unable to move, as if time itself had frozen.
Tsukasa's breath came out in a low, furious hiss, his glare unyielding. "Don't touch me."
For a moment, the elder said nothing. He simply stared at Tsukasa, as though trying to understand the boy before him. The rage, the power, the cold detachment—it was all there. But Tsukasa was no longer a child. He was a force of nature, a product of years of torment and training.
With a sudden motion, Tsukasa released the elder's wrist, pushing him back with a force that sent the older man stumbling. The elder regained his footing, rubbing his wrist in disbelief, but Tsukasa didn't wait for him to speak. He turned away, his eyes dark with the weight of years spent alone, training in the shadows.
The elder hesitated, but then spoke softly, "You're not alone, Tsukasa. You never were."
Tsukasa didn't respond. He didn't need to. He knew what he was capable of. He knew the power coursing through his veins, the control he had over Infinity, Blue, and whatever else he would unlock in time.
And as he stood there, alone in the fading light, the burning red sky above him seemed to mirror the fire that raged in his heart. He didn't need anyone. Not anymore.