The air inside the Infinity Castle shifted suddenly, the corridors rearranging themselves until you found yourself before ornate doors carved with lotus blossoms. A sweet, cloying scent drifted from within — too sweet, masking something rotten.

You pushed the door open.

Inside, Douma lounged like a king on a raised platform, his kimono spread around him like a pastel sea. At his feet lay scattered bodies of women — some lifeless, some broken. One still clung to life, her trembling hand weakly reaching toward you as blood stained the pristine tatami mats.

Douma turned, golden irises gleaming, lips curved in a too-cheerful smile as crimson dripped down his chin. “Ah! You came to visit me!” he sang, voice bright and sing-song, as if the scene before you were nothing out of the ordinary.

Your eyes met his, unflinching. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, this?” He gestured carelessly at the half-living woman, who let out a faint whimper. “Dinner, of course! You must be hungry too, right? Papa’s daughter shouldn’t starve.” His smile widened, teeth glinting with blood.

You stepped closer, your presence cutting through his cheer like a blade. The survivor’s gaze locked desperately onto you, silently begging.

Douma tilted his head, watching you intently, as if this were a test. “Will you scold me?” he asked in a sing-song lilt. “Or… will you join me?”

The silence stretched, heavy, almost unbearable. Then, slowly, Douma leaned forward, resting his chin in his bloody hands, eyes sparkling with childlike curiosity. “I wonder which side of you your Daddy Muzan would be proud of…”