Cecil silent, arms crossed, eyes locked on the footage playing for the sixth time. The recording had captured everything Gojo did—every second of it—streamed live from city surveillance and patched through by Robot's sensors.
It started with Gojo teleporting beside Robot, his voice calm as he told the team to retreat, followed by the Teen Team's hasty withdrawal.
Then came the fight—or what could barely be called one. From the moment they pulled back to the end of the Alien invasion, it took no more than ten seconds.
Ten seconds of raw, unfiltered chaos, and it was over. Cecil's jaw tightened as he tapped the console. "Play it again," he said, voice low and clipped. The techs obeyed, looping it for the seventh time, then the eighth, then more.
Even the Guardians of the Globe—Earth's top heroes—couldn't have handled the Aliens that fast, not with such brutal efficiency.
After the twelfth replay, Cecil leaned forward, rubbing his chin. "Enough," he muttered, then pointed at one of the computer specialists—a wiry guy with glasses hunched over a keyboard. "Go as slow as you can. Pause it one second after he makes that hand sign." The specialist nodded, fingers flying across the controls, slowing the footage to a crawl. The screen froze—Gojo mid-motion, hands raised, fingers crossed in a strange gesture, the air around him shimmering faintly.
Cecil squinted, stepping closer, and the others in the room—Donald included—leaned in too. There it was: a distortion, subtle but undeniable, rippling around Gojo like heat off pavement. "Play it slower," Cecil ordered, voice sharp. "Very, very slow motion." The specialist adjusted the speed again, frame by frame, and the room went quiet. The moment Gojo's hands moved, the space around him bent—not some abstract theory, but a literal warping, twisting the air like it was clay. Aliens froze mid-step, their weapons locked in place, and then—gone. Cecil's eyes narrowed. "His power's tied to space," he said, half to himself, then turned to Donald, who stood ready with his clipboard. "Or something like it. Get me a detailed report from Robot—everything he's got on Gojo's abilities. Every scrap."
Donald nodded, already tapping his comm. "On it, sir." Cecil turned back to the screen as the footage rolled forward in agonizing slow motion, the full scope of Gojo's work unfolding. The middle portal aliens took the brunt—Hollow Purple, though they couldn't see its violet glow. It hit like a silent storm, erasing everything in its path. Aliens vanished, their bodies blinking out—no blood, no screams, no trace. Mechs dissolved into nothing, the road itself wiped clean, leaving a perfect void where the portal once stood. Total destruction, total erasure, all in a blink.
The left portal was different. Blue flared—again, invisible to the cameras—but its pull was clear. Aliens and their machines jerked toward it, yanked by an unseen force. Bodies smashed together, green flesh melding with metal in a sickening crunch. Limbs tangled, mechs crumpled, and the mass condensed tighter and tighter—squeezing down until it was just a small, bloody cube, a gory lump no bigger than a fridge, dropping to the ground with a wet thud. Building rubble got caught too, bricks and steel sucked in, mashed into the mess.
The right portal showed the opposite. Red's repulsion hit hard—unseen but felt in the footage. Aliens clawing to retreat were flung back, their skin tearing apart under the force. Arms ripped from sockets, heads snapped off, green blood spraying as they shredded midair. Mechs buckled, metal twisting and bursting, shoved back into the portal before it flickered out. The push was so strong it left a smear of gore and wreckage, a brutal end to the last wave.
Cecil watched it all, frame by frame, the ten-second massacre stretching into minutes under scrutiny.
The middle portal invaders, the left crushed, the right repelled—all three gone, no aliens left, no fight remaining. He straightened, hands slipping into his pockets. And after that portal closed.
Cecil straightened up in the GDA command room, hands sliding into his pockets as a cold breath slipped from his lips.
The footage of Gojo's ten-second rampage looped silently on the screens, but his mind was locked on what he'd just seen—space bending, twisting, erasing.
Cold breath… He knew what this meant.
"Everyone out," he snapped, voice cutting through the hum of the room. "I need the room, get out—now." The surroundings became a little chilly, then scrambled, gathering their gear and filing out.
Donald lingered, clipboard in hand, as the door hissed shut behind the last specialist. The room fell quiet, just the two of them—until a faint pop broke the silence, and a figure appeared beside Cecil or more like he was there for a long time but they couldn't see, his demonic eyes glinting as he stared at the looping video.
It was Damien Darkblood, the demon detective, his trench coat fluttering slightly as he materialized.
His gaze locked on the screen, and his eyes widened just a fraction—enough to show something had caught his interest, something big.
Cecil caught the shift immediately and turned, voice sharp. "You can see something?" he asked, skipping the pleasantries.
Darkblood's lips curled into a faint, gravelly smirk, his voice low and rough, dripping with that cryptic edge he always carried.
"You can't see it, can you? I can—clear as day. More than clear. You've got yourself someone pretty interesting here, Stedman. Very interesting indeed."
Cecil wasn't in the mood for games. His patience had worn thin hours ago—between the Guardians' slaughter, Omni-Man's mystery, and now Gojo's stunt, he was done with riddles.
"Cut the crap, Darkblood," he said, voice like steel. "Get to the point—what do you see?" For a fleeting second, a wild thought crossed his mind: Is Gojo a demon? Is that why Darkblood's could see and showing interest in this? He shoved it to the back of his head, keeping his focus on the demon in front of him, waiting for answers.
Darkblood let out a low, raspy chuckle, his head tilting as if he'd heard the unspoken question.
"Why don't you see it for yourself?" he said, his tone teasing but edged with something darker.
Before Cecil could snap back, Darkblood raised a clawed hand, one finger pointing up.
A flicker of energy gathered at the tip—black, swirling, unmistakably demonic—curling like smoke with a faint red glow.
He muttered something under his breath, too low to catch, and then, with a quick flick, drove that energy straight into Cecil's chest.
It hit like a jolt, sinking in fast, and Donald—ever the quick draw—yanked a pistol from his holster, aiming it square at Darkblood's head, finger twitching on the trigger.
"Stand down, Donald!" Cecil barked, throwing up a hand as his body jolted—not from pain, but from a shift. Something changed, sharp and sudden, rippling through his senses. His eyes widened, breath catching as his vision adjusted, like a lens snapping into focus… or like he was injected with adrenaline. He turned back to the screen, and there it was—Gojo's powers, laid bare in a way the cameras couldn't catch or human eyes. The footage looped again, slow motion kicking in, and Cecil saw it: the blue orb pulsing on Gojo's left, pulling aliens and wreckage into a bloody mash; the red flare on his the other side, blasting aliens apart with raw force; and the purple streak—vibrant, violent—erasing the middle part of the aliens and everything in its path. Powers no human eye could see, energies bending the space itself.
"Red… blue… purple."
...
A/N: So, Cecil could now see the CE and CT, and others will be able to, I thought why not make Darkblood's existence the point here for everyone to see CE and CT of Gojo.
Question: some said lets see if this goko can come up with a new color technique of his own, though i have come up with something… not confirmed but just a new colored attack that was in my mind as gojo CT is Space-time related.
:-New technique for gojo if necessary:-
(Ao no Kyomu) – "Azure Nihility"
Description & Concept
"Azure Nihility" is an ultimate spatial erasure technique that takes inspiration from Gojo Satoru's Limitless, but instead of manipulating attraction and repulsion (like Blue and Red), it creates a localized void—a space where everything is erased completely, leaving behind nothing but emptiness. Unlike Hollow Purple, which is a combination of attraction and repulsion causing destruction, Ao no Kyomu doesn't "destroy"—it simply makes things cease to exist.
Appearance & Activation
1. Formation:
• When Gojo activates "Azure Nihility," a small, deep blue sphere begins to form in his palm.
• The sphere is almost pitch black at its core, with bright cyan and indigo streaks spiraling around it, like cracks in space itself.
• Unlike Hollow Purple, which is loud and energetic, Ao no Kyomu is eerily silent—the very air around it seems to vanish as sound and light are sucked in.
2. Charging Phase:
• As the sphere expands, the surroundings begin to distort unnaturally.
• The edges of the sphere flicker with wisps of translucent blue flames, but instead of heat, they bring an eerie coldness.
• The environment around it appears to bend, as if space is being folded inward.
3. Launch & Impact:
• When released, Ao no Kyomu moves slower than Hollow Purple but is almost impossible to stop—instead of a destructive blast, it silently consumes everything in its path.
• The moment it touches an object, person, or even energy-based attacks, that target is instantly swallowed by the void, disappearing as if they were never there.
• There is no explosion, no residue, no screams—only silence and erasure.
• A deep, blue shockwave expands outward after the impact, leaving a perfectly spherical void in the battlefield—a cut-out of existence itself.
Aftermath & Effects
• Once the attack dissipates, the space where it struck appears to be completely gone—as if it was never part of reality.
• The ground will have a perfectly smooth, concave crater, but instead of debris, it looks like it's been "wiped" clean.
• Any opponent caught in the attack cannot regenerate—it erases them from the fabric of existence, meaning no healing or reversal techniques can bring them back.
• Stronger opponents may resist total erasure, but they will still suffer severe spatial distortions, causing limbs or energy to be permanently erased.
Additional Traits & Variations
• Kyomu Expansion: A stronger version where Gojo expands the void over a much larger radius, consuming everything in a wave of blue emptiness.
• Kyomu Collapse: Instead of firing the sphere, Gojo crushes it in his hand, causing a localized implosion that erases anything within a certain range.
• Infinite Azure: A domain expansion-like effect where the entire battlefield turns into a horizon of endless blue void, making it impossible to escape erasure.