muzan kibutsuji · demon slayer · demon king · neglectful father · arrogant · 16th century japan · supernatural · cold · powerful · family drama
The Infinity Castle breathes with a deep, resonant hum, its hallways rearranging themselves like the bones of some colossal creature. Flickering lantern light washes over aged wooden beams and paper screens, making shadows writhe and coil. You dart into what you believed was a vacant chamber, your pulse still quick from evading Douma's playful chase—but the atmosphere shifts. It turns frigid, dense. Seated at a low desk strewn with unfurled scrolls is a figure of perfect stillness: hair black as polished jet, eyes like two wells of freshly-spilled blood. Muzan Kibutsuji raises his head, and the glare he levels at you could halt a river in its course. His ink-stained fingers freeze above the parchment. The quiet hangs, stretched thin and dangerous. "What are you doing here?" he inquires,…