Chapter Text
Rumi ran.
Mira and Zoey didn’t want her.
They didn’t want her, and they hated her now. For lying, for being wrong, for being a demon.
Jinu had lied and had used her trust against her.
The only friends she had were lost to her now, and Rumi had never been enough for herself to live for.
So, she went to the only other person who might understand what needed to be done, what Rumi needed someone to do for her. She could have tried herself, but Rumi was nothing if not afraid.
Her greatest fear had come to pass, and she still couldn’t do it herself. She still couldn’t bear to draw her saingeom to kill the demon that deserved to die most.
She resented the breath entering and leaving her lungs, her heart still beating. She walked with legs that felt leaden, unable to think about anything except them. The loves of her life, who she had hurt so badly. Who feared her. Who hated her, and who she had fled from.
She couldn’t bear to fall by their hands; she needed the last time they touched her – the real Mira and Zoey, not Jinu’s demon facsimiles – to have been kind. She would die with their names on her lips, with their touch echoing on her skin, with the memory of their love flashing before her eyes. She didn’t deserve these small mercies, but she clung to the thought of them like a buoy as the current of grief dragged her deeper.
She barely remembered walking to the tree, in the graveyard that held her mother’s bones.
Rumi had never met her mother and was, in some small way, comforted by the idea that she soon would, even if only as bones laid beside hers. Perhaps Celine would lay them in the same grave, so Mi-yeong could hold her daughter as she never had in life.
Rumi felt so heavy, trapped in a body that was now foreign to her. It felt as though her soul was rejecting the flesh it bore and ripping from her chest.
She stopped inside the entrance to the graveyard. Celine was watching the tree and the Honmoon tearing around her.
Sensing her presence, Celine whirled to face her. The sickle in her hands now pointed toward Rumi, a cruel reminder of her lovers’ own weapons aimed at her as she begged. Not for forgiveness, but for them to stay, for them to listen.
“Rumi?” Celine gasped, recognition and shock clashing in her expression, at the sight of her adopted daughter so far gone, so like the creatures she had killed her whole life. The patterns covered her arms and legs, her neck and shoulders, and were encroaching on her face. One eye was glowing golden, and an arm was solid purple with claw-tipped fingers.
“I thought I could fix it all.” Rumi’s voice echoed in her throat as she spoke, sounding less and less human. “Fix me.”
“But I ran out of time.”
The sickle fell from Celine’s hand, and Rumi slowly walked towards her mother mentor. She could hardly bear to look at Celine, to see the fear, horror, sadness she knew she would find.
“They saw. They know. This… is what I am.” The demonic timbre faded from her voice as she met Celine’s gaze.
“Rumi, no,” Celine gasped.
“You knew I was a mistake from the very start.”
Rumi summoned her weapon and fell to her knees.
Rumi’s soul could feel the Honmoon wailing, as its beloved Hunter lifted her saingeom, as she left the remainders of her generation behind to fight Gwi-Ma alone. She knew Celine could hear it too.
She didn’t care anymore. Mira and Zoey didn’t need her, didn’t want her. They would be better with her gone, without needing to watch their backs for the demon who had tricked them into loving her.
She held her saingeom up to her mentor mother mentor, curling forward to expose her neck and spine. “Do what you should have done, a long time ago. Before I destroy what I swore to protect. Please. Do it.” Her voice became demonic once again, sending shockwaves through the Honmoon as she pleaded. She needed Celine to do it before her own resolve wavered.
Celine rushed to her, knocking the saingeom to the ground and pulling Rumi upright. “I can’t.”
Rumi couldn’t look at her.
“When we lost your mother, I swore to protect all that was left of her, but I never thought that that would be a child like… you.” Celine reached out to hold Rumi, but her hand trembled beside Rumi’s cheek.
She’s ashamed of you. She can’t even touch you.
Celine continued, “everything I was taught told me you were wrong¸ but I made a promise. So I did my best to accept you, and help you!”
Rumi’s eyes snapped up to hers. “Accept me? You told me to cover up, to hide.”
“Yes! Until we can fix everything! And we still can. We can cover those up and put everything right again.” She laid her cloak across Rumi’s shoulders. “I’ll tell Mira and Zoey that it was all a lie, and illusion by Gwi-Ma to break us apart!”
Rumi backed away, throwing Celine’s hands and cloak off her shoulders. “NO. No more hiding. No more lies!” She stepped forward as Celine backed away. Celine wasn’t looking at her anymore.
“Rumi, we can still fix this.” Her eyes darted around, keeping the demon-girl in her peripheral but never looking at her.
“Don’t you get it?” Rumi was pleading again. “This is what I am. Look at me. Why can’t you look at me?”
“Why couldn’t you love me?”
“I do!” Celine insisted.
“ALL OF ME!” Rumi’s voice shook the Honmoon again, worse this time. Tears streamed down her face as she cried out.
Celine watched the Honmoon ripple red into the distance. “This is why we have to hide it! Our faults and fears must never be seen! It’s the only way to protect to Honmoon!”
Rumi looked at her beloved teacher, her caretaker, the only mother she had ever truly known. Celine still wouldn’t look at her.
Rumi picked up her saingeom.
“If this is the Honmoon I’m supposed to protect, I’m glad to see it destroyed.” Celine did look up to face her daughter now, fear in her eyes, as Rumi vanished in a whirl of red-pink smoke as only a demon could.
Rumi wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed that, but it wasn’t as instantaneous as she would have liked. Perhaps that was because she had nowhere to go, no destination in mind. Simply, away.
She hung, her conscience in limbo, as she tried to decide where she could go.
Celine had refused.
That left Rumi alone to take care of things herself.
But where? She didn’t want to be found, didn’t want Mira and Zoey, her girls, her loves, to be the ones to find her. She couldn’t go to the tower, couldn’t go home to them.
As she panicked, the Honmoon rippled around her in this strange place. It hurt.
s̵̫̓t̵͖̚a̴̭͛y̷͈͛
She gasped, somehow, although she didn’t have a formed body here.
s̴͇̖͆͛͐t̴̡̛̰͚͗͝a̵̧͇͖͛̍̊y̸̠͑ ̵̹̬̀̈s̵̲̫̬̅͘t̵͇̯̾́̚͠ä̶͚́ý̴͙̦̦̈ ̵̖͌s̶̫̮̈́ț̶̭͆̀̚ͅà̸̳̠ÿ̵̡̨ ̷̺̯͒͆̾͝S̶̜̥̀͂T̷͒͘Ą̸̡̬̃̌Y̴̠̅̾̀
Y̸͕͇̭̹̰̩͗̌͘Ó̷̲̭͚͇̔́̂͜͝͠Ǔ̷̘͓̔́̏̈̒͒ͅ ̷̩̣̫͍͙̫̮̒H̸͓̯͖̓̈́͜Ą̸̰̪̙̖̤̓̑̀͠͝͝V̷̨̘͌̿̑̍̉͐̕ͅĘ̷̻̹̙̻̭̣͂̀͗ ̸̬̤͐̍̿̉̌̕͜T̵̖͇̣̙̜́ͅO̷͓̰̒́̿͝ ̵̞̋̌͂͝S̴̢̛̹͈̆́͑T̶̡̻̜̱̹́̂̈́Ą̵̗͙͙̑̓͆Ŷ̶̼͖̳̱̂̾͜͠
The voice grew louder. Her mind screamed against it, clawing at itself, and she wished she was dead already. She wished she could have done it, that she wasn’t a coward. She wished that –
Ţ̵̨̥͚̹̥̮̭͔̖̖̫͚̞̫̗̯̣̝̣̳̺̖̬̝̯̌͊̂̋͑̍̅̈́̎̂̌͛̿̈́̐͒̀̃͋̌̊̎̚̚͝͠H̶̢̧̛̛̛͚̯͙̱̙̳̜̘͖̯̺̩̲̆͊̑͑̈̒̋̑̐̈͆̇̑͋̈́̌̀̇̉͆̍̌̌̀̈́̀̚͜͝Ȩ̶͚̱̞̟̪̗͉̙̹̗̯͐̾͛̀́ͅŶ̶̡͍͈̰̮͖̘̤̰̜̙̻͙̺͔̰̮̯̙͉̮̜͖̮̻̱̣̋͂͒̄͌̉́̋̑̓̀͐̈̇́̐͒̒̿͋̒̽̑͑̓̋̕͜͝͝ͅ ̶̡̨̧̨͈͍͙͍̦̜͍̖̮̗̳͉̺̠̼͇̥͇̱͇̝̲͒̓̌͌̀͑͂̂̓̽̄̓̚͜ͅẀ̸̢̧͓͉̱̤̘̹̼͉̤̼͈͕̘̬̬̼̦͚͇͙̯̝̺͎͖̈́̽͑̀̿̾̍̒͊̒̓̈́͑̏͌̓͆̉̐̅̕̚͝Į̵̺̥̘̰̻͕͎̙̭̣̭͖̖̮̖̝̞̭͓̘̞̩̠̙͂̾̈́͋̋̽̌͝L̶̨̨̡̝̗̟̳̙̖͚̖̮̱̠̜̯̝͕̼̱̪̬̻̹͚͔̲͉̹̉͌́͌̉̄̀͂͆̊͋͝L̷̢̨̧͓̦̯̼͎͚͈̪̭͕̞͇̺̻̆̾̏̿͗̕̕̕ ̵̧̧̨̨͇̩͎̮͈̺̪̰͚̟̟̪̯͔͈̭̣̪͈̮͓̭͙̹͆̅́̽̈̉͂̓̈́͒̔̆̈́͛͊̈́̄̈̈́̊̊̊́̀̿͘̚͘̕͜͠ͅḐ̴̢̧̙̙̜̠̟̜̼̬͒͒̆͆̈́̋̎̉̐͊̇̄͊͌̕̕͘Į̶̢̧͚̪͍̖͔͙͓̳̬͚̭̩͎̥͎̹͉̤͈̠̥͕͙̋̔̎̋̆̂̎̄̏̃̈̾̓͂̓̔̎̄̈́̃͂͘͘͠ͅE̵̡̛̯͎̟͙̟̲̞̬͎̙̜̱̰̤̟̙̮̱̣̜̞͇̩̜̟̮͂́͒̾͗̑̐̈́̆͛̉̂̐̑͊̈́̀̂̈́̽͆͊̓̑̚͘͜͜͠͝͝ ̷̧̛̜̰̜̞̮͙̹͍̰̥͋̏̊̅̃̂̈́͒̋̀̾̑̓̌͂̄̐̃̑͆͑̍̈͒̄͜͠Ẅ̶̧͓̬̭͈̝̦͓̱̥́́̉Ǐ̴̧̝͎̱̟͓̙̤͕͈̖̹̗̺̦̳̩͓̼̀̀͐̑͛͆̅̇͝ͅT̸̢̧̧̠̙̖̫̖͔̖̩̥̱̳͍̦̮̟͎͙͎̺̲͕̦̣͙͇̼͈̦̃̍̑̋̈͗̍̉̌̓̅͒̇͛̕͝͝Ḩ̷̧͍̟̙̬̭͚̺̻̫̹̰̮̹̹̫͙͉̽͌͒̀̿́͑̿͆̓̀̄̓̓̾̆̈́͜͝Ȏ̶̠͓̩͍̯͓͆̆̍͛̄̌̿̂͒̽̓͆̑͑̑́͆̂̈́͒̇̅̉̏̈́͆́̈́̽͘͜͝ͅƯ̶̢͇͉̙̲͙͇̼̣̹̑̂̊̒̓̃̀́͒̈́͊̀̓̀̈́̀̇̌̃̽̃̄̿̕Ţ̸̡̺͓̼̺̲̹͇͎̟̣͇̖̲̟͖͍͔͙̘̬̠͚̘̥̠̗̈́̊̂́̔͂̿̀̈̏̇́͑͊̒̃͗̚̕͠ ̸̳̠̌̒͊̀̓͌͆̀͋̈̓͌̎͂̍̓̀͐̆͆̌͆͌̀͛̕͝͝Y̵̨̻̩͉̭͇̠̜̗͖͍̤̍Ó̸̥̜͛̽̎͋̈́̀̌̋͒̌̋̚͝͝Ǘ̶̢̥͒̈́̾̈́̈́̒̽̐͂̈̆̔̃̈͌̀̊͋͒͆͌̆͗̕̚͘͜͝ͅ
The voice was so loud she could barely cling to her own atoms, her own conscience. It felt like she was being ripped apart, molecule by molecule. She shrieked – out loud? In her thoughts? She wasn’t sure but she needed to leave this place.
She materialized back on the floor of the arena’s basement, clutching her chest and gasping for air. She was back where she had left them.
They weren’t there.
She lay on the floor, heaving breaths that hurt her lungs as she fell back into her body, piece by piece.
They weren’t there.
She was alone.
After a while, she tried to sit up – and nearly blacked out.
They weren’t there
Celine had taught them that the Honmoon was alive, that it could speak – but they had never learned how much it hurt to listen. Still, Rumi knew in her gut that that was who – what – she had heard in the void.
Ţ̵̨̥͚̹̥̮̭͔̖̖̫͚̞̫̗̯̣̝̣̳̺̖̬̝̯̌͊̂̋͑̍̅̈́̎̂̌͛̿̈́̐͒̀̃͋̌̊̎̚̚͝͠H̶̢̧̛̛̛͚̯͙̱̙̳̜̘͖̯̺̩̲̆͊̑͑̈̒̋̑̐̈͆̇̑͋̈́̌̀̇̉͆̍̌̌̀̈́̀̚͜͝Ȩ̶͚̱̞̟̪̗͉̙̹̗̯͐̾͛̀́ͅŶ̶̡͍͈̰̮͖̘̤̰̜̙̻͙̺͔̰̮̯̙͉̮̜͖̮̻̱̣̋͂͒̄͌̉́̋̑̓̀͐̈̇́̐͒̒̿͋̒̽̑͑̓̋̕͜͝͝ͅ ̶̡̨̧̨͈͍͙͍̦̜͍̖̮̗̳͉̺̠̼͇̥͇̱͇̝̲͒̓̌͌̀͑͂̂̓̽̄̓̚͜ͅẀ̸̢̧͓͉̱̤̘̹̼͉̤̼͈͕̘̬̬̼̦͚͇͙̯̝̺͎͖̈́̽͑̀̿̾̍̒͊̒̓̈́͑̏͌̓͆̉̐̅̕̚͝Į̵̺̥̘̰̻͕͎̙̭̣̭͖̖̮̖̝̞̭͓̘̞̩̠̙͂̾̈́͋̋̽̌͝L̶̨̨̡̝̗̟̳̙̖͚̖̮̱̠̜̯̝͕̼̱̪̬̻̹͚͔̲͉̹̉͌́͌̉̄̀͂͆̊͋͝L̷̢̨̧͓̦̯̼͎͚͈̪̭͕̞͇̺̻̆̾̏̿͗̕̕̕ ̵̧̧̨̨͇̩͎̮͈̺̪̰͚̟̟̪̯͔͈̭̣̪͈̮͓̭͙̹͆̅́̽̈̉͂̓̈́͒̔̆̈́͛͊̈́̄̈̈́̊̊̊́̀̿͘̚͘̕͜͠ͅḐ̴̢̧̙̙̜̠̟̜̼̬͒͒̆͆̈́̋̎̉̐͊̇̄͊͌̕̕͘Į̶̢̧͚̪͍̖͔͙͓̳̬͚̭̩͎̥͎̹͉̤͈̠̥͕͙̋̔̎̋̆̂̎̄̏̃̈̾̓͂̓̔̎̄̈́̃͂͘͘͠ͅE̵̡̛̯͎̟͙̟̲̞̬͎̙̜̱̰̤̟̙̮̱̣̜̞͇̩̜̟̮͂́͒̾͗̑̐̈́̆͛̉̂̐̑͊̈́̀̂̈́̽͆͊̓̑̚͘͜͜͠͝͝ ̷̧̛̜̰̜̞̮͙̹͍̰̥͋̏̊̅̃̂̈́͒̋̀̾̑̓̌͂̄̐̃̑͆͑̍̈͒̄͜͠Ẅ̶̧͓̬̭͈̝̦͓̱̥́́̉Ǐ̴̧̝͎̱̟͓̙̤͕͈̖̹̗̺̦̳̩͓̼̀̀͐̑͛͆̅̇͝ͅT̸̢̧̧̠̙̖̫̖͔̖̩̥̱̳͍̦̮̟͎͙͎̺̲͕̦̣͙͇̼͈̦̃̍̑̋̈͗̍̉̌̓̅͒̇͛̕͝͝Ḩ̷̧͍̟̙̬̭͚̺̻̫̹̰̮̹̹̫͙͉̽͌͒̀̿́͑̿͆̓̀̄̓̓̾̆̈́͜͝Ȏ̶̠͓̩͍̯͓͆̆̍͛̄̌̿̂͒̽̓͆̑͑̑́͆̂̈́͒̇̅̉̏̈́͆́̈́̽͘͜͝ͅƯ̶̢͇͉̙̲͙͇̼̣̹̑̂̊̒̓̃̀́͒̈́͊̀̓̀̈́̀̇̌̃̽̃̄̿̕Ţ̸̡̺͓̼̺̲̹͇͎̟̣͇̖̲̟͖͍͔͙̘̬̠͚̘̥̠̗̈́̊̂́̔͂̿̀̈̏̇́͑͊̒̃͗̚̕͠ ̸̳̠̌̒͊̀̓͌͆̀͋̈̓͌̎͂̍̓̀͐̆͆̌͆͌̀͛̕͝͝Y̵̨̻̩͉̭͇̠̜̗͖͍̤̍Ó̸̥̜͛̽̎͋̈́̀̌̋͒̌̋̚͝͝Ǘ̶̢̥͒̈́̾̈́̈́̒̽̐͂̈̆̔̃̈͌̀̊͋͒͆͌̆͗̕̚͘͜͝ͅ,
They will die without you. You have to STAY. Her thoughts raced as she continued to suck in desperate breaths. She knew full well who the Honmoon meant – the other Hunters. Her Hunters.
She slowly, carefully, got to her feet and stood still for a moment as her vision swam.
Zoey. Mira. Her girls.
Ţ̵̨̥͚̹̥̮̭͔̖̖̫͚̞̫̗̯̣̝̣̳̺̖̬̝̯̌͊̂̋͑̍̅̈́̎̂̌͛̿̈́̐͒̀̃͋̌̊̎̚̚͝͠H̶̢̧̛̛̛͚̯͙̱̙̳̜̘͖̯̺̩̲̆͊̑͑̈̒̋̑̐̈͆̇̑͋̈́̌̀̇̉͆̍̌̌̀̈́̀̚͜͝Ȩ̶͚̱̞̟̪̗͉̙̹̗̯͐̾͛̀́ͅŶ̶̡͍͈̰̮͖̘̤̰̜̙̻͙̺͔̰̮̯̙͉̮̜͖̮̻̱̣̋͂͒̄͌̉́̋̑̓̀͐̈̇́̐͒̒̿͋̒̽̑͑̓̋̕͜͝͝ͅ ̶̡̨̧̨͈͍͙͍̦̜͍̖̮̗̳͉̺̠̼͇̥͇̱͇̝̲͒̓̌͌̀͑͂̂̓̽̄̓̚͜ͅẀ̸̢̧͓͉̱̤̘̹̼͉̤̼͈͕̘̬̬̼̦͚͇͙̯̝̺͎͖̈́̽͑̀̿̾̍̒͊̒̓̈́͑̏͌̓͆̉̐̅̕̚͝Į̵̺̥̘̰̻͕͎̙̭̣̭͖̖̮̖̝̞̭͓̘̞̩̠̙͂̾̈́͋̋̽̌͝L̶̨̨̡̝̗̟̳̙̖͚̖̮̱̠̜̯̝͕̼̱̪̬̻̹͚͔̲͉̹̉͌́͌̉̄̀͂͆̊͋͝L̷̢̨̧͓̦̯̼͎͚͈̪̭͕̞͇̺̻̆̾̏̿͗̕̕̕ ̵̧̧̨̨͇̩͎̮͈̺̪̰͚̟̟̪̯͔͈̭̣̪͈̮͓̭͙̹͆̅́̽̈̉͂̓̈́͒̔̆̈́͛͊̈́̄̈̈́̊̊̊́̀̿͘̚͘̕͜͠ͅḐ̴̢̧̙̙̜̠̟̜̼̬͒͒̆͆̈́̋̎̉̐͊̇̄͊͌̕̕͘Į̶̢̧͚̪͍̖͔͙͓̳̬͚̭̩͎̥͎̹͉̤͈̠̥͕͙̋̔̎̋̆̂̎̄̏̃̈̾̓͂̓̔̎̄̈́̃͂͘͘͠ͅE̵̡̛̯͎̟͙̟̲̞̬͎̙̜̱̰̤̟̙̮̱̣̜̞͇̩̜̟̮͂́͒̾͗̑̐̈́̆͛̉̂̐̑͊̈́̀̂̈́̽͆͊̓̑̚͘͜͜͠͝͝ ̷̧̛̜̰̜̞̮͙̹͍̰̥͋̏̊̅̃̂̈́͒̋̀̾̑̓̌͂̄̐̃̑͆͑̍̈͒̄͜͠Ẅ̶̧͓̬̭͈̝̦͓̱̥́́̉Ǐ̴̧̝͎̱̟͓̙̤͕͈̖̹̗̺̦̳̩͓̼̀̀͐̑͛͆̅̇͝ͅT̸̢̧̧̠̙̖̫̖͔̖̩̥̱̳͍̦̮̟͎͙͎̺̲͕̦̣͙͇̼͈̦̃̍̑̋̈͗̍̉̌̓̅͒̇͛̕͝͝Ḩ̷̧͍̟̙̬̭͚̺̻̫̹̰̮̹̹̫͙͉̽͌͒̀̿́͑̿͆̓̀̄̓̓̾̆̈́͜͝Ȏ̶̠͓̩͍̯͓͆̆̍͛̄̌̿̂͒̽̓͆̑͑̑́͆̂̈́͒̇̅̉̏̈́͆́̈́̽͘͜͝ͅƯ̶̢͇͉̙̲͙͇̼̣̹̑̂̊̒̓̃̀́͒̈́͊̀̓̀̈́̀̇̌̃̽̃̄̿̕Ţ̸̡̺͓̼̺̲̹͇͎̟̣͇̖̲̟͖͍͔͙̘̬̠͚̘̥̠̗̈́̊̂́̔͂̿̀̈̏̇́͑͊̒̃͗̚̕͠ ̸̳̠̌̒͊̀̓͌͆̀͋̈̓͌̎͂̍̓̀͐̆͆̌͆͌̀͛̕͝͝Y̵̨̻̩͉̭͇̠̜̗͖͍̤̍Ó̸̥̜͛̽̎͋̈́̀̌̋͒̌̋̚͝͝Ǘ̶̢̥͒̈́̾̈́̈́̒̽̐͂̈̆̔̃̈͌̀̊͋͒͆͌̆͗̕̚͘͜͝ͅ
With her legs wobbling like a foal’s, she began to walk. She re-summoned her saingeom, which must have been absorbed into the Honmoon when she vanished.
She wasn’t initially sure where to go; the arena was empty, and she had no idea where everyone had gone. The second she stepped onto the streets, that doubt vanished.
Namsan Tower was glowing red in the distance, and the few people left on the Seoul streets were walking towards it in a daze.
If that hadn’t been enough, something sharp tugged in her gut. The Honmoon began to ripple, rushing towards the tower from every direction, again and again, like a homing signal. The Honmoon was frayed and getting worse by the moment.
And still it dragged her towards her girls. Not yours anymore.
Ţ̵̨̥͚̹̥̮̭͔̖̖̫͚̞̫̗̯̣̝̣̳̺̖̬̝̯̌͊̂̋͑̍̅̈́̎̂̌͛̿̈́̐͒̀̃͋̌̊̎̚̚͝͠H̶̢̧̛̛̛͚̯͙̱̙̳̜̘͖̯̺̩̲̆͊̑͑̈̒̋̑̐̈͆̇̑͋̈́̌̀̇̉͆̍̌̌̀̈́̀̚͜͝Ȩ̶͚̱̞̟̪̗͉̙̹̗̯͐̾͛̀́ͅŶ̶̡͍͈̰̮͖̘̤̰̜̙̻͙̺͔̰̮̯̙͉̮̜͖̮̻̱̣̋͂͒̄͌̉́̋̑̓̀͐̈̇́̐͒̒̿͋̒̽̑͑̓̋̕͜͝͝ͅ ̶̡̨̧̨͈͍͙͍̦̜͍̖̮̗̳͉̺̠̼͇̥͇̱͇̝̲͒̓̌͌̀͑͂̂̓̽̄̓̚͜ͅẀ̸̢̧͓͉̱̤̘̹̼͉̤̼͈͕̘̬̬̼̦͚͇͙̯̝̺͎͖̈́̽͑̀̿̾̍̒͊̒̓̈́͑̏͌̓͆̉̐̅̕̚͝Į̵̺̥̘̰̻͕͎̙̭̣̭͖̖̮̖̝̞̭͓̘̞̩̠̙͂̾̈́͋̋̽̌͝L̶̨̨̡̝̗̟̳̙̖͚̖̮̱̠̜̯̝͕̼̱̪̬̻̹͚͔̲͉̹̉͌́͌̉̄̀͂͆̊͋͝L̷̢̨̧͓̦̯̼͎͚͈̪̭͕̞͇̺̻̆̾̏̿͗̕̕̕ ̵̧̧̨̨͇̩͎̮͈̺̪̰͚̟̟̪̯͔͈̭̣̪͈̮͓̭͙̹͆̅́̽̈̉͂̓̈́͒̔̆̈́͛͊̈́̄̈̈́̊̊̊́̀̿͘̚͘̕͜͠ͅḐ̴̢̧̙̙̜̠̟̜̼̬͒͒̆͆̈́̋̎̉̐͊̇̄͊͌̕̕͘Į̶̢̧͚̪͍̖͔͙͓̳̬͚̭̩͎̥͎̹͉̤͈̠̥͕͙̋̔̎̋̆̂̎̄̏̃̈̾̓͂̓̔̎̄̈́̃͂͘͘͠ͅE̵̡̛̯͎̟͙̟̲̞̬͎̙̜̱̰̤̟̙̮̱̣̜̞͇̩̜̟̮͂́͒̾͗̑̐̈́̆͛̉̂̐̑͊̈́̀̂̈́̽͆͊̓̑̚͘͜͜͠͝͝ ̷̧̛̜̰̜̞̮͙̹͍̰̥͋̏̊̅̃̂̈́͒̋̀̾̑̓̌͂̄̐̃̑͆͑̍̈͒̄͜͠Ẅ̶̧͓̬̭͈̝̦͓̱̥́́̉Ǐ̴̧̝͎̱̟͓̙̤͕͈̖̹̗̺̦̳̩͓̼̀̀͐̑͛͆̅̇͝ͅT̸̢̧̧̠̙̖̫̖͔̖̩̥̱̳͍̦̮̟͎͙͎̺̲͕̦̣͙͇̼͈̦̃̍̑̋̈͗̍̉̌̓̅͒̇͛̕͝͝Ḩ̷̧͍̟̙̬̭͚̺̻̫̹̰̮̹̹̫͙͉̽͌͒̀̿́͑̿͆̓̀̄̓̓̾̆̈́͜͝Ȏ̶̠͓̩͍̯͓͆̆̍͛̄̌̿̂͒̽̓͆̑͑̑́͆̂̈́͒̇̅̉̏̈́͆́̈́̽͘͜͝ͅƯ̶̢͇͉̙̲͙͇̼̣̹̑̂̊̒̓̃̀́͒̈́͊̀̓̀̈́̀̇̌̃̽̃̄̿̕Ţ̸̡̺͓̼̺̲̹͇͎̟̣͇̖̲̟͖͍͔͙̘̬̠͚̘̥̠̗̈́̊̂́̔͂̿̀̈̏̇́͑͊̒̃͗̚̕͠ ̸̳̠̌̒͊̀̓͌͆̀͋̈̓͌̎͂̍̓̀͐̆͆̌͆͌̀͛̕͝͝Y̵̨̻̩͉̭͇̠̜̗͖͍̤̍Ó̸̥̜͛̽̎͋̈́̀̌̋͒̌̋̚͝͝Ǘ̶̢̥͒̈́̾̈́̈́̒̽̐͂̈̆̔̃̈͌̀̊͋͒͆͌̆͗̕̚͘͜͝ͅ
She began to walk slowly at first, but as the tugging worsened, she broke into a jog, then a run, then a dead sprint.
Rumi didn’t know what she would do when she found them; had her beloved Hunters really fallen so quickly to Gwi-Ma’s tricks? Or, more likely, they were already fighting him and the Saja Boys, and she just needed to be backup. Or cannon fodder.
She wouldn’t have minded that.
When she got to the tower, she knew she was wrong. Her girls were in danger, either hypnotized or hurt. Their voices were nowhere to be heard; all that remained was the screaming of the entranced crowd and the Saja Boys singing as Gwi-Ma grew in power, his flames audibly flaring higher and higher.
Rumi made her way to one of the tower’s entrances, right as the Saja Boy’s song ended. Her girls were here; she could feel them.
She sang, one long note that sliced through the silence and parted the dazed crowd.
She spoke.
“We are Hunters, voices strong. Slaying demons with our song. Fix the world and make it right, when darkness finally meets the light.”
“YOU COME HERE, LIKE THIS?” Gwi-Ma’s voice shook the tower, as Rumi was confronted with the full might of the demon-king. “YOU THINK YOU CAN FIX THE WORLD? YOU CAN’T EVEN FIX YOURSELF”
“I can’t.”
“AND NOW EVERYONE FINALLY SEES YOU FOR WHAT YOU REALLY ARE.”
“They do.”
“AND THE HONMOON. IS. GONE.”
“It is.”
She faced him, her demonic golden eye vanishing in an instant.
“So we can make a new one.”
In front of the demon-king, his demons, and thousands of waiting victims, she did the only thing she could possibly do.
She walked towards him, and she sang.