The throne of bones loomed at the core of Yuji's soul, which was nothing less than a perfect prison.
The throne was not built. Not constructed. But grown. A monument to violence and order, made entirely from contorted remains.
Spines curled like ivory arms to frame the base, while ribcages stretched outward to form steps. Skulls were fused together into a crest, each one facing outward with empty sockets.
And upon that throne sat Sukuna, the King of Curses.
He rested with one elbow balanced on his knee, a single finger curled against his jaw. His expression was unreadable. Not cruel, not bemused, not even annoyed. Just... watching. Like a king observing the arrival of a foreign dignitary.
Mahito's steps were slow, steady. He didn't bow. He didn't smirk. He didn't speak.
He simply walked forward until he stood at the base of the throne, just close enough for their cursed energy to brush.
The pressure between them was thick with potential. Not hostility. Not submission. Just the kind of tension that arises when two predators recognize that they are not alone.
"You walk like this place belongs to you," Sukuna said finally.
Mahito looked around.
"It does while you stand in my domain~"
Sukuna raised one brow. "Interesting. You say that even as you face me?"
Mahito nodded once. "Why would I not? Were you expecting me to be afraid?"
The King of Curses studied him with something bordering on interest. His eyes, like dying stars, searched Mahito's face for something real. He found it.
"You've changed quite a lot since I last saw you. I guess even a maggot like you can shine in the dark."
"Maggot? Tough words for someone stuck in a cage. Bit indeed, I've grown," Mahito replied, his voice low.
Before Mahito could continue, Sukuna's face twisted with annoyance, and his fingers raised. In an instant, Mahito split his soul, bending it around an invisible slash that he had quite easily predicted.
His soul then returned to shape, unfazed.
That small action made Sukuna raise an eyebrow, his annoyance turning to interest once more.
"It seems you aren't just talk... But don't get smug, dodging a probing strike is hardly impressive."
"Of course, a choreographed slash is easy to avoid... But at this point, I am confident to face you." Mahito said. "I thank that clarity that came from shedding lies."
He folded his arms, his expression confident, resolute.
Sukuna's mouth twitched into something close to a grin.
"You're not afraid. Even now."
Mahito took one more step forward.
"I understand the truth of your state. You are bound within a body you do not control. You are just a fragment of a once great Sorcerer... Or Curse, rather."
Sukuna made no move, but the bones around his throne pulsed, their resonance vibrating through the marrow of that strange inner world.
"You understand nothing."
Mahito didn't blink.
"I understand that power means nothing without identity. You taught me that, actually. Not in words, but by what you are."
Sukuna tilted his head. "Explain." The hint of an amused smile rose on his lips once more.
Mahito breathed in slowly. The air tasted of rust and ash.
"You were feared because of your strength. Worshipped because of your technique. But what made you 'King' was your conviction. You did not ask the world to bend. You never doubted that it would."
He gestured to the walls around them. Veins and bone pulsed in rhythmic unity.
"That's what a domain is. Not a technique. Not a battlefield. It's a reflection. A mirror that shows what the soul believes to be true."
"Your technique shapes the rules," Mahito continued, "but your belief gives them weight."
Sukuna did not interrupt. He simply listened. That in itself was strange.
"I watched," Mahito said. "I learned. And as Sorcerers or Curses, vestiges of Curse Energy, our will, our very souls shape the world."
A quiet pause.
"And what of you?" Sukuna asked. "Do you think your soul is enough?"
Mahito smiled faintly. "Yes."
"Even now?"
"Especially now."
Sukuna's hand opened slowly, resting on the arm of his throne.
"I see it now. Your conviction..."
"Was that small display worth your attention?" Mahito asked.
"If you had been born in the Heian Era," Sukuna said, "you would have either ruled beside me or died trying. The latter most likely. But you would not have gone unnoticed."
Mahito chuckled.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Take it however you want. Weaklings do not speak like this. And cowards do not create thrones of their own."
Mahito's hands remained at his sides, calm.
"I didn't bring you here to challenge you. Not today."
"No," Sukuna said. "But you wanted something."
"Not a thing," Mahito said. "Just a moment. A chance to look you in the eye. To understand you. And to be understood."
Sukuna leaned forward slightly. "And what do you understand?"
"That you were never really a curse," Mahito said. "Not in the way others are. You're a sorcerer who became something else. Not just because the world rejected you. But because you rejected it back."
"And you?"
"I was born a curse, but I've never felt like one."
Mahito's voice lowered.
"I don't care for Kenjaku's goals. I don't care for humanity's survival. I'm not here for a grand purpose."
He exhaled.
"I'm here because I want to be."
Sukuna nodded.
"That is the only reason worth anything."
Silence stretched again. Not uncomfortable. Just absolute.
Then Mahito spoke again.
"I won't stop you. When your time comes."
"You won't help either."
"No. But I'll watch."
"That," Sukuna said, standing now, his form towering over Mahito, "is bound to be fun~" A deranged smile spread across his lips.
Mahito stepped back. The throne behind Sukuna began to crumble, the bones collapsing into themselves like a fading dream. The light of the domain dimmed slightly, the oppressive pressure beginning to ease.
And Sukuna was gone from Mahito's vision.
The domain pulsed once.
And then Cursed Genesis collapsed inward, folding like a cocoon returning to stillness. The bone hallways, the breathing walls, the cathedral of anatomy, all shrank and dissolved.
Mahito stood alone in the clearing.