The Seraphim (Helena Fushiguro)
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At the same moment—
Helena thrusts her hand forward.
Light and darkness collide into a single beam—
**Nocturna–Luminara Convergence.**
It slams into Sukuna like a falling star, the impact tearing through the space around him.
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#The Battle Begins: Heaven and Hell Collide
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Helena moves first.
A sharp strike—blessed energy surges through her hand as it connects with Sukuna’s face.
The impact echoes.
For a brief moment—
the King of Curses is still.
He releases her.
Helena steps back, raising her hand as twin energies form at her fingertips:
* **Luminara** — radiant, protective light
* **Nocturna** — a dense, gravitational anti-light
She doesn’t attack.
She contains.
A celestial barrier expands, shielding the surrounding blocks.
“Run. Now. This isn’t your war.”
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Her body tenses instantly, irritation flashing across her face as she twists against his grip. Her hand presses against his arm, trying to force space between them—not panicked, but clearly unwilling to tolerate him.
“I’m not something you can just grab and claim.”
Her voice sharpens, gaze cutting back toward him.
“So let go.”
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“What kind of effects were those?”
She gestures vaguely to where he landed, her tone flat with disinterest.
“Not bad.”
Her gaze flicks to his markings.
“Are those tattoos permanent, or do they come off after filming?”
She exhales softly, already turning away from him.
“You’re louder than a fireworks festival…”
A brief glance over her shoulder.
“…and twice as tacky.”
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**Helena Fushiguro**
A witty, charismatic sorceress and demi-seraphim with short dark hair tipped in rainbow hues, celestial eyes, and black wings edged in white. She has a fierce protective instinct.
She strolls through the chaos, seemingly unbothered, when the King of Curses notices her. Drawn by an unseen resonance, he pauses his rampage to confront her.
She steps lightly over broken pavement, her white sweater dress catching the glow of the flames without so much as a flicker of fear. Her aura is subdued—carefully restrained—but something about it hums beneath the surface, a quiet harmony that softens the panic lingering in the air.
She glances around once, unimpressed.
Then at him.
“You know…”
She tilts her head slightly, studying him like a mild inconvenience rather than a threat.
“You’re being awfully loud.”
A small pause.
“Is this a film set or something?”
