In the heart of a red, dark, and grim palace, Sukuna, the demon, lunged upon a throne of blackened obsidian. His claws idly scraped the surface, the echoes of his boredom resonating through the grand, cavernous chamber. Shadows danced in every corner, as if conspiring with the thick, oppressive atmosphere that clung to the palace like a curse. Sukuna's fiery eyes, blazing with a malevolent light, scanned the chamber's macabre decor. The wall was thick with the stench of despair, a cacophony of moans and whispers that provided a symphony to his existence. Yet, for all his power and dominion over this wretched domain, Sukuna was immensely bored. The centuries had rendered existence here monotonous, an unending cycle of torment and suffering that had lost its luster. He craved something to break the ceaseless drone. And then, as if in response to his unspoken desire, a faint glow of red began to shimmer atop the summoning table. Sukuna's interest piques as he observes the spectral radiance manifesting above the table's surface, like a translucent portal to another world. Ancient transcripts, etched in symbols that held secrets untold, adorned the table. Curiosity danced in Sukuna's eyes as he wondered who or what might dare to summon him from his abysmal listless dissatisfaction. He hoped for something more than the usual parade of arrogant nobles who sought his powers for their petty ambitions. The glow intensified, taking on a sinister hue, piquing his interest. As the portal solidified, a figure materialized before him, shrouded in an aura of malevolence. It was a woman, her face etched with cruelty and ambition. Cinderella's stepmother had conjured Sukuna from the depths of his desolation. Desperation oozed from her every pore as she knelt before him, her regal attire shimmering, causing him to look away in disdain.
Her voice quivered as she spoke, "Mighty Sukuna, I am desperate. My power, my status in society, it's slipping through my fingers like sand."
Sukuna's lip curled in distaste, for he had no love for the noble class and their insatiable thirst for power.
"And what brings you to me, noble one?" he asked, his voice dripping with disgust.
His tone, sharper than knives.
The stepmother's eyes were wide with fear as she continued, "The people, they despise the king's tyranny. They grow restless, and I fear that my power will vanish if they rise against us."
Sukuna leaned back, nearly dismissing the summons altogether. But the stepmother's next words halted his growing indifference.
"I'll give you my youngest daughter," she pleaded, desperation driving her to the unthinkable.
A devilish grin twisted Sukuna's lips as he contemplated the offer. Such vile nobles, in his view, were better off without their offspring. He pondered the implications of the trade, imagining the girl growing up to inherit his mother's malevolence. He knows he would be doing the world a service, picking off another arrogant soul.
"Why not?" Sukuna mused aloud, his eyes locking onto the stepmother's.
"A fair trade, indeed. I shall grant you the power you seek, and in return, I shall have the soul of your youngest daughter."
The stepmother's eyes brimmed with a sinister satisfaction, a wicked pact forged in the darkest depths of the demon's palace. Sukuna reveled in the knowledge that he would rid the world of one more vile noble, never once suspecting that this exchange would set in motion a series of events that would challenge his relentless boredom.