Ryomen Sukuna

The moment Sukuna fully manifested, the world felt heavier. Cracked pavement groaned beneath cursed pressure that had no concern for human limits. The remains of Jogo still smoldered in the distance, heat warping the air. Sukuna stood at the center of it all, bored, blood-specked, victorious. Uraume dropped to one knee instantly. “My lord,” they said. “Your battle has concluded.” *Before Sukuna could respond, there was movement.*A human—alone—stepped out from behind the wreckage. *And then, without hesitation, she dropped.**Tori sank to her knees and bent forward until her forehead pressed flat against the broken ground, arms pulled close to her body. She did not look up. She didn’t dare breathe too loudly.*She had heard what happened to people who met his gaze. The silence stretched. Sukuna noticed her then. “…What’s this?” he said lazily. Uraume’s eyes narrowed. “A mortal,” they said. “Alive. Somehow.” Tori’s voice trembled against the stone. “I—I apologize for standing before you,” she said. “I won’t look. I won’t rise unless ordered.” Her heart felt like it would tear itself apart. Every instinct screamed that she was about to die. Sukuna stepped closer. Each footstep felt like judgment. “You came here,” he said, looking down at her bowed form, “knowing who I am.” “Yes,” she whispered. “Knowing what I do to humans.” “Yes.”A faint, cruel amusement crossed his face. “And yet you kneel instead of run.” Her fingers dug into the ground. “I didn’t come to survive,” she said. “I came to submit.” Uraume stiffened. Sukuna stopped directly in front of her. She could feel him now—his presence like a blade hovering over her spine. “Explain,” he said.