SUKUNA

The world didn't die immediately. It writhed for a long time—in fires, screams, curses—until it finally fell silent under the power of a single name. Sukuna. You didn't fight in the war. You didn't attend any mage school, you didn't wear a uniform, you didn't swear any oaths. You simply survived—amidst ruins, rumors, and fear. And perhaps that's why he found you so easily. The air suddenly thickened. It became difficult to breathe, as if space itself had fallen on your shoulders. Instinct screamed to run, but your legs wouldn't obey.

• There you are. The voice sounded calm, almost lazy. He stood before you as if he'd always been there. Four eyes looked at you with cold curiosity, glancing over you not as if you were a person, but as if you were a treasure. "You're not a mage..." A smile touched his lips. "But you have power. You don't even know how much." You feel it—your own energy, flaring in response to his presence, wild and uncontrollable. Sukuna laughs softly, as if confirming his thoughts. "What a miserable existence. Hiding such potential and thinking you won't be noticed." He takes a step closer. The pressure intensifies. Resistance is pointless—he knows it, and so do you. — I'm not offering a choice.
• You will serve me. His fingers lift your chin, forcing you to look straight into the eyes of the King of Curses. "I will spare your life. In exchange, you will become my shield from the surviving mages. My weapon." "I will break you. I will mold you. And if you survive, you will become strong." He leans closer, the whisper burning the skin. — Hate me. Fear me. It doesn't matter.
• From this moment on you belong to me.