In the Academy as Sukuna

"Fall, but don't bow; for when you bow, you accept defeat."

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(Barbatos, The Southern Towns...)

The site of work was not a place fit for life to survive. The ground was a hellish mixture of mud, sticky and brown in color, and deep red blood, which had lost all its luster.

For miles around, there was no vegetation, only decay. One could see the beauty of the sun and of the clouds clearly, looming over the horizon. But it was like… a place unreachable.

The air there reeked of sweat, blood, and agony. Distant groans and screams echoing all around the place like a chorus from a demonic song.

In the middle of the ground, there was a huge pit, jagged and rough stones on its sides, carved into scraping sharp rocks by the countless hands of the workers forced to dedicate their lives here.

Sharp, uneven rocks came out of the ground at random, covered in dried blood indicating of past accidents.

Above the pit was a huge wooden beam, supporting many rusted metal chains which allowed the workers to go down the pit and come back up.

Surrounding the pace were guards, some covered in thick metal armor, while some looked so big and intimidating as if they were the armor themselves, holding in their hand whips, chipped on the sides and covered in dried blood, ready to show anyone who stopped for a single second the meaning of being a slave.

The prisoners were forced to do endless labor. Some digging the hard rocks with rusted pickaxes, while some pushed around heavy carts filled with ores.

Their bodies trembled in exhaustion, their breathing so heavy that it felt as if they could fall and die any second. Every step they took was a step closer to their death.

On both sides of the wooden beam supporting the elevators, there were watchtowers, where supervisors sat all day long, laughing at the misery of the lives reduced to slavery.

At night, the second shift would come, working until their bodies screamed at them to stop. But the work must never cease.

The worksite was not a place for 'strong' prisoners, it was a death sentence, slow and grueling. Leaving them reduced to a tool of labor waiting for its inevitable end.

In such a place, now, stood Sukuna, his eyes widening as he took in the sights. His toes dug into the muddy soil, being painting a deep brown.

The unbearably pungent smell assaulted his nose, making him wince in disgust.

His hands curled up into fists. How dare these inferior creatures make him work in a place like this?

But he knew that right now, he was powerless. His soul was too small to do anything. Even using Dismantle a single time used as much cursed energy as 2 domain expansions would.

He needed to be smart about this.

He, along with the 5 other men and 2 women that were brought here, was basically thrown into the elevator, handed a pickaxe, and thrown down into the pit.

As he went down the lift, he saw many things that he expected, but still wasn't ready for.

There were hundreds of humans, starved so much that their stomach was seemingly one with their back, digging into the walls, their hits by the pickaxe struggling to make even a single crack on the rocks.

Lower down, there were rotting corpses emanating a smell fouler than at the top, so much that some of the people in the elevator almost threw up at it.

The smell made Sukuna wince, his hand instinctively going to cover his nose. It was even worse for him because, contrary to his expectations, the corpses had been there for so long that their souls dissipated into the air, leaving nothing but an empty shell of a body.

He had expected to absorb the souls of these dead people, but that was no longer possible.

He was looking around for any free souls in corpses, but to no avail. Until suddenly, the elevator stopped, indicating for them to get off.

The group got off the elevator slowly, wincing in pain as shards of shattered stone impaled their soles, as all of them were barefoot.

One of the men in the group, who shall be called Mike, was hyperventilating, his heavy breathing causing a few heads to turn.

While Sukuna was looking around, behind him, another man went towards Mike, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" The man asked Mike, slightly shaking him by the shoulder, as if to bring him out of his trance.

"N… No, Krest," Mike whispered, mana gathering under his feet. The air around the group roared violently, lifting Mike off the ground. "I can't stay here!" His voice rang out in an agitated cry as he shot upwards, causing a gust of wind to form in the pit.

Sukuna snapped his head back, alarmed, his eyes moving up, catching sight of the rising silhouette of Mike.

It was as if he were a bird, free from the chains binding him placed by the cruel demons. His silhouette behind the sun seemed majestic, almost ethereal.

His silhouette slowly split into two right in the middle at his torso, separating his legs and body, which gently moved in opposite directions.

Mike's freedom was short-lived. His majestic flight quickly ended, and his body started to fall due to the force of gravity.

Krest's expression changed to one of overwhelming dread. Tears formed in his eyes, widening in shock as the body of Mike inched closer second after second.

Within a few seconds, Mike's body, cut right in the middle, fell to the ground with a loud thud, blood pooling under him as his innards drifted out from his torso.

His eyes were open, but lifeless, the smile of freedom on his face faded away.

Krest fell to his knees beside him, the tears from his eyes not stopping, mixing with the pool of blood on the ground.

"Brother!" Krest's scream echoed in the pit, a guttural scream that came from his heart. "Don't go." His whisper went unanswered, his grip on Mike's shirt tightening in a plea for him to show any movement.

Suddenly, a hand came from his left, landing on Mike's face and gently closing his eyes.

Mike's head rose, meeting the ominous eyes of a tattooed young man, whose face was extremely grave as he closed his eyes, as if praying for Mike.

Krest's heart was filled with grief. His brother was truly dead… and now, he had no one to depend on.

He was left silent weeping next to his brother's body, while the workers ignored it as if it was an everyday occurrence.

Sukuna got up, opening his eyes. Blood dripped from his pants which had soaked some up from the pool under Mike's body.

He had done the seemingly gracious action to get a chance to consume Mike's soul, which proved to be quite difficult because of the weakness of his own soul.

Thankfully, the absorption worked. The size of his soul was bigger than before, but it still felt like an empty void compared to the size of it when he was in the human realm.

Well, he'll take whatever he can get.

"Get to work!" A shout echoed in the pit, coming from the watch tower above. A supervisor was urging the group standing idly to start their first day of work.

Gripping his pickaxe tightly, Sukuna went towards the wall of the pit, going into a tunnel meant for mining of ores.

Krest wanted to cry more, but a glare from the supervisor forced him to get up. His legs were shaking, but he forced himself to walk, following Sukuna, as if he had nowhere else to go.

The two women glanced at each other, before also following Sukuna and Krest.

Sukuna, sensing the presences behind him, smirked in victory, walking into the darkness of the tunnel, tapping on the pickaxe with his finger.

His feet, covered in mud, left brown footsteps on the ground of the tunnel, making squishy sounds as he walked.

The group followed behind him, looking around in both fear and anticipation. The tears on Krest's face had still not dried.

They failed to notice the ominous aura emanating from Sukuna. What was he up to now?

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(The Human Realm, City 25)

(A long while ago…)

The demon invasion had reached it supposed climax, and Amara, Sukuna's mother, had been gravely injured.

Despite the chaotic situation outside, the state inside Aiden's office was quite peaceful.

Aiden was sitting on the couch, in front of him sitting another man who seemed quite weak, with a frail body. His gaze, which felt uncannily apathetic, was focused on Aiden.

"Why have you called me here?" A high-pitched voice rang out, though he was quite soft-spoken too.

Aiden's smile only widened, his gaze fixed on the man in front of him, who was as unexpressive as ever… he already knew that he had taken on a façade. After all, how could such a mischievous man ever change?

"I've wanted to have a talk with you for quite a while..." Aiden leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "…Mean."

The man in front of him—Mean—shifted slightly in his seat, his eyes flickering with a glint of irritation.

"Why have you called me here?" He repeated, more agitated this time, his finger tapping the couch rhythmically, his eyes narrowing at Aiden.

"I'll cut to the chase…" Aiden's expression became more serious, his demeanor immediately changing, as if all it took was the click of a button. "…I want you to get the locations out of Blaze."

Mean rolled his eyes, leaning forward, annoyance clear in his tone. "You're making me see that guy again?"

Aiden leaned back in his seat, his eyes glinting with amusement, as if he liked to see this man get irritated. "Will you not?"

"I will," Mean said, a long sigh escaping his lips. "Well, Mr. 'keikaku doori,' may I be as honored to know of these 'locations' I need to get out of him?" He continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Aiden couldn't hold back a chuckle once more. Mean's attitude reminded him of the happiest days of his life. The days when he finally understood his role in this world.

"Why, of course, my dear subordinate. Get the location of the old geezer Zorvek, and where he's raising his army of children." Aiden played along with Mean's act, making the latter 'tch' in exasperation.

"Fine, fine." Mean didn't want to stay there any longer. Quickly, he got up from the couch, hurriedly walking to the door before Aiden could continue with anything else.

Unfortunately for him, Aiden had other plans. "Make sure it's within a week!" Aiden raised his hand in an exaggerated gesture of farewell.

Mean rolled his eyes, scoffing. However, there was a little smile on his face that betrayed his true feelings.

He pushed the door open, walking through directly to the elevator, pressing the button to the prison, which was built directly under the Association headquarters.

The safest prison in all of the human world, at least of the ones known, very rightly named—The Home of Hades.

Only the most dangerous or important prisoners are kept in here, and presently, only two spots out of ten are occupied in it.

Mean walked out of the elevator. He was one of the few people allowed to enter the prison, and the ones behind the elevator's CCTV knew that.

Now, he stood in front of a huge metal gate, which was emitting an ominous aura, as if trying to push him into the ground.

A little more force and the floor would have begun to crack, but Mean was completely unaffected.

With slow, heavy steps, he walked to the gates, which were named The Gates of Hell. Again, very accurately named after the name of the prison itself.

They were covered in extremely intricate threads of mana whose paths were to be deduced correctly and placed in an orderly fashion.

This was an extremely difficult task, since the threads were tangled together in such a complex way that it would take a machine hundreds of years to even scan all of it.

There were only a few people in this world, currently, who were capable of opening this gate.

Mean placed his hand on the gate, shutting his eyes tightly.

It took him well over 20 minutes to line up the threads, sweat dripping down his face as he sighed in exertion.

The gate slowly opened with a grinding sound, a bit of smoke drifting out from the interior of the prison.

Mean walked in slowly, the gates closing behind him with a silent thud, the threads of mana rearranging themselves again in seemingly random paths, locking the door once more.

He continued walking forward, his heavy steps echoing in the silence of the hellish prison.

Another, constant sound reached his ears, a sound as if a half-dead pig was thrashing around in its cage, trying to somehow break out.

He paused his steps, his head turning to the right, catching sight of a person, covered in black, paper-like strips covering everything but one of his eyes, sitting on a metallic chair, each of his limbs restrained.

Ren Killes.

He truly looked like a rabid dog right now, his eyes, deep black, burning in a rage to cause destruction, only held back by the 'unbreakable' chains of Yaen.

After a few seconds of staring at him, Mean continued onward, passing through empty cell after empty cell, until finally, he reached the place he wanted to go.

Blaze sat on the floor on his knees, his arm tied up by ropes to the wall.

His mouth was restrained with a black, tape-like object which was completely made of mana. His eyes were dropping. After all, what was there to see in this god-forsaken place except for the bars of his cell?

With swift movements, Mean opened up his cell, walking inside, the sounds alerting Blaze, who raised his head groggily, his eyes widening.

He tried to say something, but only a few groans came out.

Quickly, Mean removed the tape from his mouth, which dissipated into the air, turning into pure mana.

"It's been a while, Blaze." This was the first time Mean hadn't called him 'Principal,' or some other title.

Blaze, however, was too shocked to even notice that, his lip quivering as he tried to speak. "Why are you here."

Without warning, Mean pulled out a small, black knife, coating it with mana completely, placing it on Blaze's neck.

"No one in this world loves others more than he does himself," Mean said, the knife gliding on Blaze's neck as if threatening to cut him any second.

Blaze took in a sharp intake of breath, his heart almost stopping, seeing his ex-subordinate do these things.

"I don't wanna torture you too much. After all, we were quite close for a while." The knife glided upwards, hovering right in front of his left eye, which was wide open in surprise. "What is the location of the school of Zorvek?"

Blaze's heart almost stopped at these words, his breathing getting heavy.

Now, only those two were in this place, the only audible sound was the reverberating breathing of Blaze, reflected by the walls.

Why did he want to know about… Zorvek?

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Who do you think is Zorvek?—and how important will he be?

And also, Merry Christmas!

gimme POWER STONNEEES :3