Gojo floated, suspended in the aftermath of annihilation, heart still hammering, mind still racing. He had won.
Or so he thought.
Then the Moon Shard… knelt.
The remains of its ice vessel bent low, the singular, cracked eye dim but… gentle. Not hateful. Not wrathful.
Grieving.
And for the first time in five thousand years, the Moon Shard spoke with a voice that was not thunder or scream, but something quieter—ancient, aching, and soft.
“Please… take care of them… The Children of the Forest.”
Gojo’s breath caught.
“What…?”
The cursed god of winter was begging.
The Moon Shard’s voice echoed again, filled with sorrow and resignation.
“I… only ever wanted to protect them. To hear their songs. Their laughter. I was born to be their shield, to make them a place where mankind’s steel and fire could never reach.”
Gojo stared, stunned. “You… care about them?”
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The Moon Shard’s eye blinked slowly.
“They were my creators. My friends. My children.”
Gojo felt the weight of that truth hit him like a wave.
He’d spent his second life believing the Children of the Forest were nothing but monsters, sacrificing humans to cursed trees, waging wars from the shadows. But this—
This was love.
Genuine. Unfathomable. Monstrous and still… pure.
“They killed humans,” Gojo said coldly. “Sacrificed children.”
“For survival,” the Moon Shard whispered. “When the First Men came with axes and fire… there was nowhere left to go. So I made them a place. The Lands of Always Winter. A final refuge.”
Gojo frowned. “And the Long Night?”
“I tried to scare man away. Tried to cull the invaders. But I failed. I don’t have the strength for that again.”
The ancient eye flickered, dimming with every passing moment.
“I only ask you this—watch over the Children. They are few now, forgotten… hunted. Let them live. Let them sing again.”
Gojo was silent for a long moment.
He thought of Megumi. Of Yuji. Of all the cursed spirits who’d claimed to act for love, for revenge, for fear. He’d dismissed them all as evil.
But maybe… just maybe… things weren’t so simple here.
The Moon Shard bowed its head.
“Blame me. Not them. I chose the path. I made the sacrifices. I broke the world so they could have a chance.”
Gojo sighed. Deep. Resigned.
“…I don’t trust them,” he said. “But I’ll try.”
And then, he reached out—and for the first time in this world—made a binding vow.
“I will protect the Children of the Forest. Not for what they’ve done, but for what they can become.”
The Moon Shard’s eye smiled.
And then, it began to disintegrate.
Cursed ice turned to stardust. Flesh melted into light. Its eye faded into the wind like a dying ember. But before it vanished completely, it left something behind—
Knowledge poured into gojo like a falling sun.
A cursed technique.
Ancient. Primordial. Divine.
The Manipulation of Celestial Bodies. To move the stars and the moon like toys.
Gojo closed his eyes. He didn’t know what the future held—but now, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel alone.