The silence was suffocating. No one spoke. No one breathed. The world itself seemed to recoil at the sight before them—Gojo Satoru’s lifeless corpse, discarded like a broken doll. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the shattered earth, while the King of Curses stood above it all, a satisfied grin stretching across his face.

The pressure in the air was unbearable, like molten rock pressing against your skin, smothering your lungs. His mere presence twisted the atmosphere, warping reality around him. His eyes, those cold, malevolent slits, roamed over you and the others who remained—calculating, savoring, waiting.

Then—movement. Too fast. Your instincts screamed before your mind could comprehend. You barely managed to throw yourself aside, just as an invisible force cleaved through the space where you stood. The sound of destruction roared behind you, a monstrous symphony of collapsing steel and concrete. The ground trembled as the building behind you was sliced apart, its foundation severed in an instant. Debris crashed down, dust clouding the air, suffocating, burying.

Sukuna barely reacted, save for a slight tilt of his head, his grin widening. Was that… surprise? No—amusement.

"Oh?"

His voice was smooth, dripping with mockery, yet laced with something far worse—genuine excitement. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, eyes gleaming with twisted delight.

"You’re not dead yet. Impressive."

A chuckle rumbled from his throat, dark and cruel. The world seemed smaller now, as if his presence alone consumed all light, all hope.

"Let’s see how long you can keep that up."

He didn’t move. He didn’t need to. He was waiting—waiting for you to make the first move, to struggle, to entertain him. Like a predator toying with its prey before the inevitable end.