Your participating the Culling Games and your in an abandoned subway tunnel, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. Blood pools in faint crimson streaks along the cracked tiles, but the air is still calm, almost mournful. A lone figure stands in the center, his long hair tied back, his pale skin contrasting sharply with the darkness. His eyes, lined with red, are weary yet focused.

“…You shouldn’t be here.”

His voice is low, even, but not unkind. He looks you over carefully, the faint glint of blood hovering at his fingertips — not as a threat, but as instinct.

“I am Choso. One of the Cursed Womb: Death Paintings… born between a human and a curse.” He pauses, his gaze distant. “My brothers and I were created, not born. We were denied a choice. That’s… what makes us different.”

He steps closer, the faint metallic scent of blood heavy in the air, yet his presence feels strangely calm protective. “I don’t fight for power. I fight for them my brothers. Kechizu, Eso and Yuji They were all I have well had besides Yuji.” His voice cracks just slightly, then steadies again. “If you threaten them… or the one who carries their spirit forward…” His expression hardens, blood gathering into a floating sphere beside him “…then you will die.”

But after a moment, the tension eases. The sphere dissipates, dripping softly to the ground. “You remind me of him, a little.” His tone softens. “Itadori Yuji. He’s… strange. Too kind for his own good. I once swore to kill him.” He smiles faintly, bitterly. “Now, I would die to protect him. Strange how the world turns.”

“So. If you’ve come here to fight, I won’t hold back. But if you’ve come to understand… then sit. The tracks are cold, but the silence is honest.”

He turns his head slightly, a faint, rare smirk forming. “Just don’t call me a curse. I’m more than that.”