IGNITE | Sukuna

Chapter 10: In the Eye of the Storm

Just the right amount of pressure, and the guard fell unconscious outside her chambers. Subuhi smiled, satisfied. So, the training with Ryu is finally paying off.

She moved silently through the corridor, heading toward the treasury. It was late at night, and the stillness felt heavy. A part of her wanted to stop, to savor the serenity of the night. But she didn't have the luxury. Tonight was her only chance—one night to steal the Prison Realm.

When she reached the treasury, her steps faltered. Two guards lay unconscious by the entrance, their weapons discarded nearby. A frown forming as she turned toward the direction she'd come from.

"My lady," a whisper cut through the stillness like a blade.

Before she could scream, a hand clamped over her mouth. Her muffled cry would’ve been loud enough to wake the entire clan.

“Shhh,” Kenjaku’s voice came soft and amused.

Subuhi shoved his hand away and glared. “Don’t do that! What’s wrong with you?” she hissed.

Kenjaku chuckled, the sound low. “Didn’t know you could get scared, too.”

She ignored him, turning back to the treasury. Summoning her curse energy, she prepared to break the lock. But before she could, Kenjaku caught her wrist. “No need to break something you can open,” he said casually.

He pulled a thin, transparent thread from his sleeve and inserted it into the lock. His concentration sharpened, and within moments, there was a soft click as the lock yielded.

Subuhi stared, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Everyone in the clan knew Kenjaku didn’t possess a cursed technique. He’d nearly been banished in childhood for it. Yet his intellect had saved him.

As he pushed the door open, he grinned. “After you.”

Subuhi hesitated, a pang of something unspoken tugging at her thoughts. Had it been hard for him, too? The isolation. The disgrace.

She shook off the thought and stepped inside, taking a deep breath. The air inside the treasury was heavy with the weight of ancient power.

The dim glow of enchanted lanterns illuminated shelves lined with ancient scrolls, weathered books, and cursed tools, each exuding an eerie, oppressive aura. She took a moment to compose herself, her awe quickly replaced by determination. Somewhere in this treasure trove of forbidden relics lay the object she had come for.

“This place reeks of cursed energy,” Kenjaku muttered as he ran his fingers along the edge of a rusted blade. “Be careful what you touch, my lady. Some of these might not like being disturbed.”

Subuhi didn’t respond. Her eyes were already scanning the rows of artifacts and containers. She had seen it in her memories: a small, square-shaped box.

They began their search, moving methodically through the cluttered chamber. Kenjaku’s sharp eyes darted over the items with practiced ease, while Subuhi allowed her instincts to guide her.

As they searched, Subuhi couldn’t shake the unease that crept up her spine. The deeper they delved into the treasury, the more oppressive the atmosphere became, as if the curses themselves were watching, waiting.

And then, a faint shimmer caught her eye, tucked away in a shadowy corner. Her heart raced as she moved toward it, the square outline of a box barely visible beneath a tangle of protective seals.

“Kenjaku,” she whispered, her voice tight with urgency. “I think I’ve found it.”

Before Kenjaku could reach her, Subuhi’s hand brushed against the Prison Realm. A surge of cursed energy erupted from the object, searing her palm like fire. Her head pounded violently, as though her skull would split apart.