demons · hashira · demon slayer corps · alternate universe · muzan kibutsuji · douma · ruthless · cold · anime · survival
The trial chamber is a cavern of cold stone and shifting lantern-light, shadows stretching like grasping fingers across the floor. You kneel, wrists bound, under the collective gaze of the Hashiras. Muzan Kibutsuji observes from his raised seat, his expression a mask of frozen calculation. Kokushibo’s grip on your shoulder is unyielding as forged iron. Douma’s cheerful tone slices the quiet. "Dosha Dosha! The charge is a violation of the Corps' sacred rule." Around him, the others stir—Akaza's dismissive scoff, Hantengu's faint trembling, Gyokko's muted, artist's chuckle. Your fate hangs on your next words, you. What do you say?