MHA; Gojo Vs Sukuna

**Chapter One: The Awakening**

The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the kind of light that seemed to radiate warmth and tranquility. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of lavender and polished wood. Gojo Satoru stirred, his white hair tousled against the silken pillowcase. His eyes fluttered open, revealing piercing blue irises that seemed to catch the light like shards of ice.

For a moment, he lay still, taking in his surroundings. The bed beneath him was impossibly soft, the sheets smooth and cool against his skin. He sat up slowly, his movements languid and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. The room was spacious, its walls adorned with intricate tapestries that seemed to shift subtly, their patterns alive with a faint, otherworldly glow. A bookshelf lined one wall, filled with leather-bound tomes that exuded an air of mystery.

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the soft strands. He glanced down at himself, noting the crisp white shirt he wore. It was adorned with delicate blue roses, their petals embroidered with threads that shimmered like mother-of-pearl. His pants were a creamy off-white, lightweight and tailored to perfection. He smirked, his lips curling into a lazy grin.

Before he could fully process his surroundings, a soft chime echoed through the room. Gojo's eyes narrowed as a translucent blue interface materialized before him, its light casting a cool glow across the space. Words began to form, elegant and precise.

**Welcome, Candidate.**

**You have been chosen to embody Gojo.**

**This is the world of the Hero Academy.**

**Your journey begins now.**

Gojo tilted his head, his smirk fading slightly. "Gojo, huh?" he muttered, his voice smooth but tinged with skepticism. "And what if I don't feel like playing along?"

The interface didn't respond to his question. Instead, it continued, unfazed by his casual tone.

**Your role is paramount. Your powers are unmatched.**

**Follow the guidance of the system.**

**Lead. Protect. Dominate.**

The words lingered for a moment before fading away. Gojo crossed his arms, his blue eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and defiance. "Unmatched powers, huh? Sounds like a load of nonsense to me."

He stood up, his movements fluid and unhurried, and walked over to the window. The view took his breath away. The city sprawled below him, a sprawling metropolis of towering skyscrapers and bustling streets. The sky was a deep indigo, dotted with stars that seemed to twinkle with an almost unnatural brilliance. The lights of the city stretched as far as the eye could see, their glow reflecting off the glass of nearby buildings.

"Is this Tokyo?" he murmured, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe. But something feels… off."

He leaned against the window, his reflection staring back at him. The building he was in was clearly high-rise, its height offering a panoramic view of the city. Yet, despite the familiarity of the skyline, something about it felt alien, as if it were a distorted version of the Tokyo he knew.

---

Meanwhile, in another part of the world, Sukuna awoke to a very different reality.

The room was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and refused to let go. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and decay, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed in the distance. Sukuna's eyes fluttered open, revealing dark brown irises that glinted with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

He sat up slowly, his movements stiff and deliberate. The bed beneath him creaked loudly, its wooden frame splintered and unstable. The mattress was thin and lumpy, its surface covered in stains that hinted at years of neglect. Sukuna's fingers brushed against the threadbare blanket, and he frowned. This wasn't his room. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't… anything he recognized.

The walls were a patchwork of crumbling plaster and exposed brick, spiderwebs clinging to the corners like grotesque decorations. The floor was littered with debris—shattered glass, fragments of wood, and the occasional scurrying insect. A cockroach skittered across the floor, disappearing into a dark crevice. Sukuna shuddered, pulling his legs up to his chest.

"Where am I?" he muttered, his voice low and gruff.

As if in response, a soft chime echoed in the room. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. Before him, a translucent red interface materialized, hovering in the air like a bloodstain. It was sleek and futuristic, glowing with an ominous light. Words began to scroll across the screen, each one appearing with a faint hum.

**Welcome, Candidate.**

**You have been chosen to embody Sukuna.**

**This is the world of the Hero Academy.**

**Your journey begins now.**

Sukuna stared at the words, his mind racing. Sukuna? Hero Academy? None of this made sense. He reached out a trembling hand, but his fingers passed through the interface as though it were made of smoke.

"What is this?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Who's doing this? Where am I?"

The interface didn't answer. Instead, it shifted, displaying a new set of words.

**Your role is vital. Your powers will awaken in time.**

**Follow the guidance of the system.**

**Survive. Adapt. Overcome.**

And then, as quickly as it had appeared, the interface vanished, leaving him alone in the dim, decaying room. Sukuna clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. But the cold, the smell, the ache in his bones—it all felt too real.

He stood, his legs unsteady, and took a step forward. The floorboards groaned beneath his weight, and he winced at the sound. His reflection caught his eye in a shard of broken mirror hanging on the wall. Brown hair, disheveled and unkempt. Brown eyes, wide with fear and confusion. He looked… ordinary. Nothing like the name they had given him. Sukuna. It sounded powerful, dangerous. He felt anything but.

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Two boys. Two worlds. And a system that held the keys to their futures.

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