You ever step into a place so massive your brain just refuses to accept it? Like, "Nope, that's impossible, go touch some grass" kind of massive?
That's exactly what happened when I opened my eyes.
I was standing in the biggest hall I had ever seen. No, scratch that. The biggest space that had ever existed.
Imagine a cathedral built for gods, except the gods decided, "Nah, too small," and cranked the size up until even the laws of physics had to sit down and take a breather. I barely could see the walls. I couldn't see the ceiling. There were pillars—monstrous, world-ending pillars—rising into infinity, so tall they disappeared into the cosmic void above. The floor was smooth marble, so polished I could see my own confused, mildly horrified reflection staring back at me. And the strangest part? There were stars. Actual, twinkling stars, drifting lazily in the air like someone had shattered the night sky and sprinkled the pieces around for decoration.
I took a step forward, bracing for an abyss, a gravity flip, or idk, anything else because of how utterly wrong this place felt. Instead, my footsteps echoed forever, stretching into the void like reality itself was having trouble keeping up.
"What the… this place…" I muttered, turning in circles, trying to process the impossible scale of the room.
"Welcome to your new gym!" Satoru announced cheerfully, floating midair like gravity was just a suggestion he wasn't interested in following.
I blinked at him. Then I looked around again. Then back at him.
"…This is a gym?"
"Yep!" He did a lazy backflip midair, hands behind his head. "It's got everything you need. Infinite space, perfect conditions… I even threw in a skybox so you wouldn't feel trapped."
I turned around and saw that the door was replaced by the strangest horizon, like there is a wall but that is so far away and so hard to see that you started to doubt its existence. I squinted. "Oh. Great. This place doesn't even have an exit anymore..."
"Exactly!"
I rubbed my temples. "This is not a gym. This is some crazy place from dreams when you are sick."
Satoru landed effortlessly in front of me, grinning like he'd just been waiting for me to catch up. "Call it what you want. Point is, this is where you're gonna learn how to fight."
I stared at him. Then at the infinite void around us. Then back at him.
"…So you dragged me into an endless dimension just to punch things?"
He clapped a hand on my shoulder.
"Indeed."
Satoru raised a hand and snapped his fingers.
With a whoosh, the air in front of me rippled like reality had just sneezed, and suddenly—there it was.
A mannequin. My size, my shape, but with the personality of a brick wall. It hovered there like it had always existed, arms limp at its sides, blank featureless face staring at me like it knew all my secrets and was unimpressed.
I squinted at it. "So... what, I'm supposed to fight my own action figure?"
Satoru grinned. "Nah, he'll just show you how to hit."
He cracked his knuckles, stretching like he was preparing for a marathon of chaos. Then, without warning, he threw a simple straight punch—clean, efficient, and with zero unnecessary movement.
"Copy that," he said, nodding toward me.
It looked pretty simple.
I sighed, rolling my shoulders. Fine. Should be pretty easy.
I stepped forward and mimicked his punch.
Satoru shook his head. "Terrible."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Again."
I punched.
"Still garbage."
"Bro—"
"Again."
I groaned and punched again. And again. And again. Each time, Satoru made some annoying little correction, as if my entire existence was an insult to hand-to-hand combat.
"Shoulders relaxed, don't throw your weight too far forward—unless you wanna get countered and look stupid."
"Keep your guard up unless you like getting punched in the face."
It went on like that for hours.
Jabs. Hooks. Footwork. Movement. Blocks.
I was soaked in sweat, my arms burning, my legs aching, but I kept going.
Finally, Satoru snapped his fingers again.
The floor rippled and a ring rose from the void like something out of a god-tier wrestling match. It was a fighting arena built.
I blinked up at it, still catching my breath. "Okay… now what?"
Satoru pointed at the ring. "Climb up."
I groaned but obeyed, stepping onto the platform.
But of course, it can't be that simple. Surely something crazy must happen, because regular training is not Satoru's style.
Something crashed from the sky with the force of a meteorite, landing dead center in the ring.
BOOM.
Realizing that nothing was threatening me yet, I lowered my hands and saw this. No. I recognized that menace immediately.
Fucking. Fushiguro. Toji.
Young. Wearing a short-sleeved black shirt and matching pants with sneakers. Predatory look, and standing in the most dramatic villain landing of all time.
I stared. Mouth open. Brain broken.
"No," I said.
"Yes," Satoru grinned.
"No," I repeated.
"Yup."
"Dude." I pointed. "You're telling me my first real sparring match is with one who almost killed you?"
"I was tired and technically, it's just sparring," Satoru said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "He's gonna tell you everything you're doing wrong."
I turned back to Toji, who was now stretching his neck like he was getting ready to ruin my life.
"Hey kid," he said, voice calm, but with the weight of absolute destruction behind it.
I gonna die.
Satoru clapped his hands. "Oh, and before we start—no cursed energy."
I definitely gonna die.