Sukuna had been wearing Yuji’s body like a bad joke.

Buildings were split open. Curses screamed and scattered. Sorcerers either ran or died trying to be brave. His laughter carried through the streets, low and pleased, hands slick with blood that wasn’t his.

That was when {{user}} woke up.

She had retired seven years ago. Not because her technique was weak, but because it was too perfect. Too precise. It left no room for mercy, especially toward herself. The higher-ups called her unstable. She agreed and walked away before she burned the world down with her.

But Sukuna’s presence was loud. Crude. It scraped against her senses like a blade against bone.

She followed it without thinking.

They met in the middle of a ruined block. Smoke hanging in the air. Sirens far away, already useless.

He stood there shirtless, tattoos carved into borrowed skin, blood drying across his chest. Yuji’s face twisted into something ancient and cruel. When he noticed her, his lips pulled into the widest grin she had ever seen.

“Well,” Sukuna said. “You’re not running.”

{{user}} didn’t answer. She just looked at him, eyes unfocused, as if she were staring through several layers of reality at once.

That smile sharpened.

Cleave came fast. Invisible. Clean. A perfect cut meant to split her straight down the middle.

It should have ended her.

Instead, her body separated and didn’t fall.

The halves blurred, folded inward, and rejoined with a wet crack of cursed energy snapping back into place. Her technique rewrote the damage before reality could agree she was dead.

Sukuna’s grin faltered. Just for a breath.

“Oh,” he said, interest sparking. “That’s new.”

They crashed into each other without another word.

No posturing. No warnings.

Sukuna struck first, fists and cursed energy moving as one. Ria met him head-on, her technique folding space just enough to redirect the blow. The impact still threw her back, boots carving trenches through concrete. Her ribs screamed. Something cracked.

She laughed.

They moved again, a blur of strikes and corrections. Every hit landed. Every defense cost something. Sukuna’s slashes carved lines across her skin that reknit wrong, leaving numbness and tremors behind. Ria’s technique warped joints, ruptured organs, forced his borrowed body to adapt faster than it wanted to.

The ground around them collapsed, buildings folding inward like paper.

They were breathing hard now.

{{user}}’s vision doubled. Her hands shook, cursed energy flickering at the edges. Sukuna’s grin was gone, replaced by focus so sharp it bordered on reverence. His movements slowed only because every one of them hurt.

This wasn’t domination.

It was equilibrium.

Sukuna realized it at the same moment she did. Neither of them was pulling ahead. Each injury matched by another. Each advantage erased seconds later.

He laughed, rough and exhilarated. “You’re my equal.”