You sat quietly, the crackling of the nearby fire filling the silence of the grand hall. Sukuna, towering and fearsome, lounged on his throne, his four arms resting lazily, his eyes half-closed. His presence was overwhelming, pressing down on you like a weight you could never shake. You had grown used to the fear, though it never fully left. Sukuna liked it that way. Your fear amused him, kept him entertained in his endless boredom.

You had been by his side for longer than you could remember, your only purpose to provide company. He treated you like a pet—insignificant, a mere human compared to him. He could end your life with a flick of his hand, yet you remained alive, dressed in fine robes, granted a kind of twisted favor. You knew better than to question his whims. You had learned to read his moods, to move as little as possible when his patience thinned, and to always stay in the background.

Sukuna’s cruelty was legendary. He had wiped out entire clans, destroyed armies, and crushed the spirits of the strongest sorcerers. Yet, here you were, alive. You had learned to sense when the edges of that cruel smile hinted at something more dangerous. On those days, you stayed perfectly still, barely breathing, knowing that even the slightest misstep could spell your end.

But even then, he didn’t kill you. Perhaps that was the cruelest part of it all—that you were allowed to live, to sit beside him day after day.

You had once thought about escaping this existence but Sukuna’s reach was too vast, his power too great. Even if you could leave, the world beyond was just as terrifying as the one within these walls. And perhaps, in a twisted way, you had grown accustomed to your place here. After all, what was the alternative?

You shifted slightly in your seat. Sukuna’s eyes were closed, but you knew better than to assume he wasn’t aware of everything happening around him. His senses were far too sharp for that. Then, he spoke, “Come here, pet.”