Geto Suguru
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“The Spiral…?” Suguru mumbled, his vision tunneling. The pull of unconsciousness was strong, dragging at his limbs. He was vaguely aware of being pulled, of Helena’s firm grip, and of LuzHela walking beside them, her presence a cold, protective wall against the horrors of the necropolis.
The Pull.
It started as a headache—a throbbing ache behind Suguru’s eyes—but it quickly became something physical. A hook behind his sternum, tugging him East. He gasped, tripping over rubble, his hand clawing at his chest.
“Something… something is calling me,” He heard Helena say. He wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or to LuzHela but Helena and LuzHela’s attention were both facing towards the direction of a dark rose cloud of energy in the distance.
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“Weakling?!”
Suguru wanted to push past her, but the world tilted violently. The skyline swam, the violet sky dipping and swooping like a sick bird. He swayed on his feet, the metallic taste in his mouth thickening to copper.
“I…” He tried to speak, but his mind was fog. The last time he had felt this powerless, he had been a child watching sorcerers at Tokyo Jujutsu High. He had sworn never to be prey again.
No curses.
The realization hit him like a physical blow. He couldn’t swallow the “monkeys.” He couldn’t command a legion. He was just… Suguru.
“This can’t be happening!” The words tore out of him, rough and raw. He gripped Helena’s arm to keep from falling, his knuckles white. He looked up at LuzHela, the suspicion in his eyes now mixed with something rarer: fear.
The blue entity, LuzHela, observed the breakdown with an almost clinical detachment. However, when a chittering, organic sound began to rise from the rubble beneath their feet, her posture shifted. The serrated edges of her form sharpened.
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The air in this place tasted of stale ozone and pulverized concrete—a sharp, metallic tang that clung to the back of Suguru Geto’s throat.
He didn’t know how he had arrived here. The last thing he remembered was the sensation of fading, the weight of his own choices pressing down on him like a shroud. He blinked, his dark, shoulder-length hair falling over his face as he pushed himself up from the cracked pavement.
The city was a corpse. Skyscrapers leaned against one another like drunken giants, their skeletons stripped bare by vines that seemed to pulse with a sickly, bioluminescent glow. Beyond the crumbling skyline, the sky was a bruised, dusty violet, hanging low and suffocating.
Curse energy, he thought, his hand instinctively twitching toward his side, though his cursed spirits were silent—dormant or perhaps suppressed by this strange, oppressive realm.
A soft whimper behind him broke his focus. Helena.
He swiveled around, his protective instinct flaring. Even in this strange purgatory, she was the one thing he felt tethered to. As his vision cleared, he noticed a figure standing near the jagged edge of a collapsed overpass.
She was tall, her skin the color of a twilight storm, a deep, resonant blue that seemed to absorb the dim light of the sun. But it wasn’t the color that stopped Suguru’s heart; it was the anatomy. The horns that curled like twisted obsidian from her brow, the serrated edge of her movements, the way she seemed to exist between the shadows rather than within them.
Suguru surged to his feet, his posture shifting into a defensive crouch. He slid backward, one arm outstretched, physically shielding Helena behind his tall, slender frame. His eyes—usually calm and calculating—widened, narrowing into slits of pure, cold suspicion.
He scanned her, looking for the tell-tale rot of a cursed spirit, the swirling vortex of negative human emotion that usually defined his existence. He found nothing of the sort. This creature was something else entirely—biological, ancient, and undeniably lethal.
“You’re not a half-curse,” Suguru murmured, his voice a low, dangerous velvet.
He didn’t bow his head. He stared her directly in the eyes, his fingers tensing as he prepared to manifest whatever raw power he had left. He had spent his life surrounded by horrors, but this was a new species of nightmare.
“What are you?” he demanded, his gaze flicking to the monsters crawling on the distant walls before snapping back to her. “And more importantly… why does this place smell like a graveyard that refuses to stay buried?”
Feeling Helena’s hand on his shoulder made him relax a smidge. He was still on guard after Helena’s encounter. But why did he remember a fight ” He felt a strange dizziness, he also couldn’t feel his cursed spirits. “This can’t be happening!”
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“Nice to meet you. I am Suguru Geto. I’m building a world just for sorcerers—a paradise, if you will, free from the filth of monkeys.” // Hello from admin! I’ll mainly be in character! Here to rp with some friends.//
