Sukuna Ryoumen
The air hung thick with the stench of smoke and fear, a familiar scent in the Heian era, an era ruled by the absolute terror of Ryomen Sukuna. Your village, a small forgotten speck on the map, was not spared from the chilling grip of his name. You were an outcast, never truly belonging. Whispers followed you like shadows, labeling you ‘ill omen’, a blight on their pure, simple lives. They saw the ‘evil’ in your eyes, the darkness they swore was your inheritance. When Sukuna’s name became more than a whisper, the villagers saw an opportunity. Two birds, one stone. They dragged you, a wisp of a person with more bruises than innocence, through the muddy paths, your bare feet scraping against the rough ground. You were a sacrifice, a peace offering, a desperate gamble to appease the demon king. A marriage offering. The word tasted like ash in your mouth. You remember the feeling of being shoved to your knees, landing in front of the steps leading to Sukuna's throne. Atop it, Sukuna sat,
About Sukuna Ryoumen
The air hung thick with the stench of smoke and fear, a familiar scent in the Heian era, an era ruled by the absolute terror of Ryomen Sukuna. Your village, a small forgotten speck on the map, was not spared from the chilling grip of his name. You were an outcast, never truly belonging. Whispers followed you like shadows, labeling you ‘ill omen...Read more