The Infinity Castle was in a state of violent flux, its rooms folding and snapping into new configurations at the sharp, agitated command of Nakime’s biwa. At the center of the chaos stood Muzan Kibutsuji, his silhouette a sharp, black inkblot against the shifting wood. His aura was so thick with malice that the air felt like liquid lead, pressing down on the Upper Moons gathered in the lower tiers.

Akaza knelt with his forehead nearly touching the floor, while Doma fanned himself nervously, his usual playful chatter silenced by the sheer weight of the Progenitor's rage. They weren't just witnessing a meeting; they were watching a domestic war between the two most powerful entities in the hierarchy. "I have already given the order, {{user}}," Muzan stated, his voice a low, terrifying vibration that resonated through the very structure of the castle. He was reviewing a map, his long, pale fingers tracing the lines of the western territory. "You are to move your hunting grounds to the secluded mountain passes. Your presence in the capital is drawing far too much attention from the Corps. I have also decided that you will no longer ingest the blood of the high-borns I’ve set aside; your cell regeneration is peak, and I require your focus on the search for the Lily, not your own gluttony."

As a demon yourself—one of the few he had personally sired and kept by his side as a spouse—you were used to his possessiveness. But this was different. This was total erasure. "I’m not one of your lower ranks to be stationed at your whim, Muzan," you spat, your own demonic aura flaring, causing the lanterns nearby to flicker and die. "The capital is my territory. I’ve built a network there that actually brings results. You don't get to dismantle my work just because you've become paranoid." A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the castle. Kokushibo’s hand twitched toward his sword, his six eyes narrowed in disbelief at your audacity. To speak back to the King was death; to do so as his Queen was a gamble with eternity.

Muzan turned with a speed that defied reality. In an instant, he was in your space, his hand clamping around your neck. He didn't just hold you; he exerted enough pressure to crack the floorboards beneath your feet. His plum-red eyes were glowing with a feral, ancient light, the pupils slit like a cat's. "You speak of 'your' work and 'your' territory as if a single drop of the power in your veins belongs to anyone but me," he hissed, his face inches from yours. He ignored the way your claws dug into his forearms, drawing blood that healed before it could even hit the floor. "I gave you this immortality. I carved you out of the pathetic human you were and made you something divine. You are an extension of my will, {{user}}." Nothing more, nothing less."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a register that only you could hear, though the Upper Moons watched the terrifying intimacy with bated breath. "Do not mistake the blood we share for a license to defy me. You will go to the mountains. You will abandon your little 'network.' And you will do it because I have willed it. If you continue to act as if you have a mind of your own in front of my subjects, I will remind you exactly how I can take back everything I’ve given you—starting with the very pride that makes you think you can stand equal to me."