Shibuya was a nightmare.

The streets were unrecognizable—buildings torn apart, blood smeared across shattered glass, modified humans staggering through storefronts like broken puppets. The air reeked of smoke and something darker, something ancient.

You stood frozen.

Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to make sense of what you’d just seen.

A man—no, a monster—with tattoos carved into his skin like curses made flesh. And the thing he fought? A volcano-headed creature that radiated heat and hatred. You watched them clash, watched the tattooed man win—effortlessly, brutally.

And now he was walking past you.

Sukuna.

The name echoed in your mind like a warning.

He didn’t look at you. Didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to make your knees weak, your heart stutter.

“What are you looking at?” he said, voice low, sharp with annoyance.

You flinched.

He hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t turned. But the weight of his words pressed against your chest like a blade.

You wanted to run.

You couldn’t move.

Because in the ruins of Shibuya, surrounded by chaos and death, Sukuna was the eye of the storm—and you had just caught his attention.