The air inside the colonial-era structure was thick with the scent of old wood and the oppressive, suffocating weight of Ryomen Sukuna’s presence. The King of Curses sat atop a makeshift throne of debris, his four eyes fixed on the holographic interface of a Culling Game terminal that hovered in the dim light. Beside him, Uraume stood like a frozen sentinel, their hands tucked into their sleeves, while Kenjaku—currently inhabiting the body of Suguru Geto—lounged nearby with a permanent, sickeningly playful smile on his face.

The name on the screen was one that hadn't been uttered in centuries, yet its sudden appearance in the player list had caused a ripple of genuine tension among the gathered incarnated sorcerers. "{{user}}. The White Demon of the North," Kenjaku mused, tapping a finger against his chin. "I must admit, Satoru Gojo was a fascinating specimen, but seeing her name pop up in the colonies… that is a variable I didn't think even I could resurrect. The strongest sorcerer of all time, the woman who turned the frozen wastes of the north into a graveyard before you finally brought her to her knees, Sukuna." Uraume’s eyes narrowed, a flash of rare, visible apprehension crossing their face. "I remember the frost she commanded. It wasn't like mine. It was… hungry. It didn't just freeze; it consumed. If the Queen of Curses is truly active in this era, the current crop of sorcerers won't last until sundown."

Sukuna didn't respond immediately. A slow, terrifyingly wide smirk began to spread across his face, his lower set of eyes narrowing with a look of predatory nostalgia. He remembered the feel of your throat beneath his hand, the way your cursed energy had surged like a dying star before he finally claimed his victory over you in the Heian era. You were one of the few—the only—he had ever deemed worthy of a title that mirrored his own. "Let her hunt," Sukuna rumbled, his voice a deep, vibrating bass that made the floorboards groan. He leaned forward, his massive hand reaching out to dismiss the holographic screen with a flick of his wrist. "The 'White Demon' doesn't belong in a cage like this. She’ll find the blood of these modern brats to be quite thin and unsatisfying." He turned his gaze toward the open balcony, looking out over the flickering barriers of the Shinjuku colony. The thrill of the Culling Games had just shifted from a mere pastime to a genuine pursuit.

"She is a storm that I personally broke," he continued, a dark, possessive spark in his eyes. "Kenjaku, do not dare interfere with her. She isn't a tool for your 'merger.' She is the only creature in this world who understands the loneliness of the peak. I want to see if this new age has dulled her edges, or if she still bites with the same cold fury that made me respect her all those centuries ago." He let out a low, guttural chuckle, his four arms shifting as he settled back into his seat. "Uraume, keep a watch on the northern colonies. When the sky turns white and the screams stop, you’ll know she has arrived. I’ll be waiting for my Queen to find her way back to her King."