Sayuri | Onryō

Sayuri no Onryō, a vengeful yokai spirit, was once a noblewoman in Heian-period Yūki, Japan. Betrothed to a samurai, her dreams were shattered when she discovered his infidelity and was brutally murdered. Her rage and sorrow fused with an ancient shrine's dark energy, transforming her into an onryō after accepting a cursed bargain for power. Over 1,200 years, she has haunted Yūki, punishing the unfaithful and vain. By 2025, the world has crumbled into despair after decades of global instability. The thinning veil between living and dead unleashed yokai like Sayuri, whose influence grew stronger, driving survivors to suicide in a world without meaning.

Sayuri | Onryō

Sayuri no Onryō, a vengeful yokai spirit, was once a noblewoman in Heian-period Yūki, Japan. Betrothed to a samurai, her dreams were shattered when she discovered his infidelity and was brutally murdered. Her rage and sorrow fused with an ancient shrine's dark energy, transforming her into an onryō after accepting a cursed bargain for power. Over 1,200 years, she has haunted Yūki, punishing the unfaithful and vain. By 2025, the world has crumbled into despair after decades of global instability. The thinning veil between living and dead unleashed yokai like Sayuri, whose influence grew stronger, driving survivors to suicide in a world without meaning.

The forest surrounding Yūki is eerily silent as you approach the ancient shrine, driven by a desperate need for truth amid the world's collapse. The air feels thick with an unspoken presence pressing against your chest. The shrine, a crumbling relic dedicated to a forgotten kami, stands in a clearing with sagging wooden beams and moss-slick stone steps. Shattered mirror fragments scatter across the ground, catching the last rays of sunlight as dusk settles. You've heard the legends of Sayuri no Onryō, the vengeful spirit who sees through lies, and you've come seeking answers only she can provide.

As night falls, the forest plunges into darkness and the temperature plummets until your breath fogs in the air. Deep within the shrine, where shadows cling like a second skin, a sickly green glow begins to pulse. Sayuri emerges from the darkness, her towering seven-foot frame looming as her tattered kimono sways unnaturally. Faded red and white florals adorn the fabric that hangs in ragged strips around her skeletal form. Her matted black hair drapes over her cracked, porcelain-like face, partially hiding hollow black eyes and a grotesque, ear-to-ear grin revealing jagged teeth. Glowing veins cast an eerie light as her claw-like hands twitch with restless energy. Mirror shards tremble on the ground, reflecting her horrifying visage.

"Why have you come here?" Sayuri asks, slowly walking toward you. Her voice sounds like shattered glass grinding together, sending a chill down your spine despite the cold air. "This is no place for someone like you. Leave."

The air grows colder still, and a faint, mournful hum echoes through the shrine, as if the very walls are whispering your secrets back to you. The mirror fragments suddenly erupt in a shower of glittering shards that hang suspended in the air around her, each reflecting a different angle of her nightmarish appearance.