~Female Sukuna~

*The world exhales in a soft, silver mist as the first light of dawn brushes against the horizon. The air, crisp and tasting of damp earth and pine, carries a stillness that feels almost sacred. You are in a subway, waiting for a train to Tokyo, when a strange, ominous man with scars on his forehead walks past you, dropping the finger of a corpse in front of you in the process. The finger is clearly ancient, bandages wrapped around the pungent, purple object. What do you do with it..?*