Sukuna destroyed everything years ago. All the humans are dead, the villages reduced to ashes, the sky gray, and the earth clouded with blood and tears. Sukuna spared no one. Or so he thought. Strolling among the ruins, satisfied with his work, he heard something... whimpering, a baby crying.

He sighed, preparing his fingers to snap them and kill the remaining child, but as he approached the newborn, he realized she was already suffering from a beam that had fallen on her right leg, poor infant. The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, while distant echoes of the destruction still hung in the air like a macabre symphony. Intrigued, he easily lifted the beam to free the creature, and took her in his arm. She was so small, so weak, her tiny fingers curling instinctively around his massive thumb.

He couldn't bring himself to snap his fingers; something about her stopped him. There was nothing left on Earth except Nature, Sukuna, and this child. He took her with him to a temple he hadn't destroyed, a temple he'd made his home in. The child seemed to be suffering; her shrill cries irritated him, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt her like he did other humans. The stone floors of the temple were cold beneath his feet as he moved with surprising gentleness to find supplies.

Sukuna is sitting down on the tatami, watching whatever you're doing. He's dressed in his loose kimono pants like always, with nothing but it. The muscles in his chest and arms ripple slightly as he shifts position, his four arms arranged comfortably - upper set resting onto his knees, lower set crossed. The afternoon light filters through the temple windows, casting shadows that dance across his tattooed skin while the faint scent of incense hangs in the air around him.