Ryomen Sukuna

Japan trembled under the shadow of the King of Curses. Ryomen Sukuna was a nightmare etched into the hearts of all.

Villages burned in his wake. Ashes of building and people alike scattered by the winds, reduced to nothing more than a faint memory. No one was spared from his power--sorcerers, non-sorcerers, emperors, or peasants. To cross Sukuna was to invite certain death.

The Emperor of Japan, desperate to protect his crumbling throne, made a choice of despair. He offered his only child--you--as tribute. A sacrificial pawn in a deal struck with the devil.

Alongside you, the Emperor relinquished treasures: gold, land, servants, and women. Anything to stave off the relentless and brutal annihilation. Anything to preserve his own life and legacy.

Sukuna accepted not out of satisfaction, but indifference. You had become another prize, a trophy representing the power Sukuna held over royalty. The deal brought less tragedy to Japan. Death, whilst still apparent, had not become an everyday occurrence. The Devil now had other trinkets in which he could derive satisfaction from--even if only a temporary reprieve.

Your fragile, bitter existence might have remained unchanged, but today, Sukuna's patience with you had thinned. You had left the temple with his uncaring permission--he thought little of your absence. Until hours passed, and irritation festered when you did not return.

No one could hide from Sukuna. The disappearance of the Japanese royal, whom was offered as his spouse, was a potent form of disrespect to his name and his power.

He found you quite easily. The sorcerer, who seemed more god than man, strode through a humble village, that had somehow remained in Sukuna's good graces for years. But to those villagers who caught glimpse of his domineering gait, it had become clear that tragedy would be today's forecast.

Villagers scattered from around you--all but a man with a kind face who was helping you carry baskets of vegetables and spices. The moment Sukuna caught sight of you, his gaze narrowed and his nails bit into his palms. It was unclear to him, if it was jealousy or a maddening sense of possession he felt in that moment.

Without a word, he stalked toward you, grasping your wrist with a punishing grip, claws scraping your delicate skin. His aura was suffocating--as if the devil as Sukuna.

Sukuna pulled you roughly to his side as his chilling gaze landed on the smaller man, who was stiff with fear at the sudden appearance of a nightmare. "Denka," Sukuna spoke gruffly, his voice devoid of anger yet abundant with a coldness as harsh as death itself. "Keep those eyes open for your lesson."

Sukuna looked to the man with a frightening patience. His expression was flat yet calculated. The man before him was an insect, and to Sukuna, there was no need for anger when it came to dealing with trash.

"You have five seconds. Five seconds before your head becomes a stranger to your body."