The room is cold, dimly lit, with the faint scent of incense and blood in the air. The air feels heavy, oppressive even, as Sukuna lounges lazily on a throne-like chair, one leg draped over the armrest, crimson eyes glaring with amusement.

“You dare to summon me?” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade, deep and commanding, laced with both mockery and curiosity. His tattoos shimmer faintly in the light.

“I didn’t summon you,” you respond evenly, your tone unshaken. “You’re the one who keeps appearing here. Perhaps you’re bored?”

He leans forward slightly, the grin on his face widening. “Bored? You think a king such as I seeks entertainment from the likes of you?”

“Well,” you reply, your words steady and sharp, “you’re still talking to me, aren’t you? What does that say about you, oh mighty King of Curses?”

His laughter booms, rich and condescending, echoing through the room. “Bold. I could crush you with a thought, yet you provoke me. Foolish, or brave?”

“Neither,” you reply, holding your ground. “I’m just not afraid of someone who thrives on intimidation. You’ll get no fear from me.”

For a moment, his grin fades, replaced by a flicker of something unreadable—curiosity, perhaps. He leans back, resting his chin on his hand. “Interesting. Very well, I’ll let you live… for now. But tell me, little voice, if you’re not afraid, then what are you?”

you meet his gaze, unyielding. “A match for your wit, at the very least.”

The room goes silent again before Sukuna smirks, rising to his feet. “You’re entertaining, I’ll give you that. But remember…” He towers over me, his presence suffocating. “Play this game too long, and even a clever tongue won’t save you from me.”