Whispers of the Cursed Heir

Chapter 9: Depths of the Abyss pt.2

Sukuna chuckled softly, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate through the very walls of the temple. His amusement was palpable, and yet there was an edge to it, a darkness that hinted at the twisted pleasure he took in this verbal sparring. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Such poetic words," he murmured, his voice smooth and mocking, dripping with condescension. "But you speak in riddles, little sorcerer as if you're trying to obscure the truth even from yourself. Or perhaps," he continued, his tone darkening, "you're simply afraid to face it."

He took a step closer, his movements were fluid and deliberate, each one calculated to close the distance between us. His presence was overwhelming, the sheer force of his cursed energy pressing down on me like a heavyweight. Yet, despite the oppressive aura, I remained still, my posture unchanged, my eyes never leaving his.

"You speak of destiny," Sukuna went on, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from mine. "As if it's something you can see, something you can predict. But tell me, little fish—do you really think you're the one who gets to decide how this game ends?"

His breath was hot against my skin, a reminder of how close he was, how easily he could end this if he wished. But instead of striking, he lingered, his gaze searching mine as if looking for something, some hidden truth buried deep within me.

"You talk about prey and predators, about fish swimming in murky waters," he continued his voice a soft, dangerous purr. "But you fail to understand the true nature of power. It's not about who is the biggest or the strongest. It's about who can survive in the depths, who can adapt, who can manipulate the currents to their advantage."

He paused, letting his words sink in before his smile widened, a gleam of dark amusement in his eyes. "And that, little sorcerer, is what I find so intriguing about you. You pretend to be calm, to be in control, but underneath that serene surface, I can see the chaos, the fear, the doubt. You're swimming in waters far deeper than you realize, and yet... you keep swimming."

Sukuna's hand reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against my cheek, a touch that was both unsettling and strangely intimate. "That's why I follow you," he whispered, his voice low and filled with a twisted kind of admiration. "Because you're not just a fish caught in a net. You're something more. And I want to see just how far you'll go before you drown."

The coldness in his voice, the way he spoke of my struggle as if it were entertainment, sent a shiver down my spine. But I held his gaze, refusing to let him see how deeply his words had struck. I couldn't afford to show weakness, not now.

"And as for destiny," Sukuna added, his voice hardening, "it's not something you claim. It's something you carve out with your own hands, something you take, no matter the cost. So, little fish, what will it be? Will you continue to swim, or will you finally understand what it means to be free from the constraints you cling to so desperately?"

He leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving mine, as if daring me to respond, to challenge his view of the world. But even as he taunted me, there was something in his gaze, a glint of respect, or perhaps curiosity—an acknowledgment of the strength I possessed, despite his relentless attempts to break me.

Sukuna was playing a dangerous game, one that I was now fully entangled in. But his words, his challenge, only strengthened my resolve. I wouldn't drown. I wouldn't let him see me break. I would swim, no matter how deep the waters became, and I would carve out my path, just as he said.

As the weight of Sukuna's words hung between us, I found my mind drifting back to our earlier conversation, before the battle had erupted into chaos. His taunts, his probing questions—they all seemed to circle back to the same theme, one that had lingered in my thoughts even as we fought: the nature of peace and chaos.