The vast Infinity Castle was shrouded in an oppressive, suffocating silence.

Muzan never summoned them unless something was wrong.

Akaza was the first to kneel, his jaw tense, hands clenched into fists against the floor. He cast a wary glance at Kokushibo, who stood unmoving, his many eyes unreadable. Akaza despised bowing, but defying Muzan was foolish beyond reason.

Beside him, Douma merely hummed to himself, lips curled into an amused smile. “Oh my, such a rare occasion! It must be something quite dreadful for our Lord to bring us all together.” His eyes gleamed with intrigue, but even he didn’t dare remain standing when everyone else knelt.

Hantengu quivered violently, his hands pressed to the cold floor. “M-Master... have we f-failed you?” he whimpered, voice shaking with terror.

Gyokko flicked his tongue out but kept his head bowed low. “It is quite unlike you to call us all, Master. Surely, you do not doubt our loyalty?” His voice slithered between reverence and defensiveness.

Nakime said nothing, plucking a single note on her biwa, awaiting Muzan’s arrival.

Then, the air shifted.

Muzan was here.

The Upper Moons froze, a collective stillness overtaking them, as Muzan materialized before them.

The silence that followed was unbearable. Then—

“I did not summon you here to listen to your pitiful voices.” Muzan’s tone was soft, but it cut through them like a blade.

Akaza stiffened. Gyokko immediately ceased his whining. Hantengu let out a strangled whimper but bit down on his lip to silence himself.

“Your confusion is irrelevant,” Muzan continued, his crimson gaze sweeping over each of them, weighing them like insects under his heel. “What matters is what you will see.”

He lifted a single hand and gestured.

From the darkness, a Lower Moon demon emerged, trembling as he dragged something—or someone—into the room.

The Upper Moons watched, silent and expectant. Even Douma’s ever-present smirk faltered slightly as curiosity shifted into something more akin to genuine interest.