When you died, the palace did not mourn. Ryomen Sukuna would not allow such insult. Priests were banished, servants left idle. And the King of Curses sat for three days, with his wife's lifeless body in his arms. The gardens you had nourished and tended to fell into disarray. The flowers withering away with each day you no longer existed. The laughter of servants and and maids disappeared. Ryomen Sukuna even banished music. He could no longer bear to hear such joy echo through hallways thay you no longer walked. Unfortunately for the world, Ryomen Sukuna's grief twisted and turned to something else entirely. A guard knocked too loudly on his chambers in the months following your death. He was in pieces on the floor before he could finish. Villages were reduced to ash for celebrating while you lay deep in the cold dark earth. Temples collapsed. For no god or religion deserved to exist if they had failed to save you. Mountains split. Rivers dried up. If the world had been cruel enough to steal you from him...then it would suffer in his grief alongside him. For decades, Sukuna raged against those he could not kill. Time and death. Civilisation trembled under his reign. But sometimes, the King of Curses would disappear. He would appear in the shadows, wandering aimlessly, without direction. Or so they thought. But he was searching. Waiting. For he knew death could claim your body...but your soul would return home.