Chapter Text
The last echoes of singing, the final pulse of energy from the Honmoon still hums through the stadium, but Jinu is gone. His body vaporized, dissolved into the purple wisps and scattering past the veil to the demon world.
The seal holds. The song is complete. Gwi Ma is locked away again.
Rumi staggers back, the sword in her hand trembling. The same weapon that had glowed with burning blue light just moments ago, lit by sacrifice. The blade now pulses faintly, still warm, almost alive.
Mira steadies Zoey as she pants, still thrumming with adrenaline.
They’ve won. The demon world is sealed, it’s done. Finally.
But then a gust of wind rushes through the stage, and with it, a blur of movement.
Abby appears suddenly, standing in front of Rumi. He doesn't look at them. Doesn’t speak. His eyes are locked on the sword in Rumi’s hand.
Rumi stares back, stunned. “Abby—?”
He walks toward her like he’s underwater, every step deliberate. Grief rolls off him in waves. Cold, choked, contained only by the thinnest of threads.
When he stops in front of her, she flinches. His hand comes up, hesitates, then wraps around the hilt of her sword.
She lets go.
There is a flicker of something in her expression. Not fear. Not pity. Something like understanding. Or regret.
Abby takes the blade, and in the next breath, he’s gone.
The world keeps turning.
The boardroom on the top floor of Hunters Entertainment’s HQ glows with the sterile polish of success. Sleek glass walls, brushed steel fixtures, and the full, sprawling view of Seoul glittering beneath a summer haze. To the girls, the lights are glowing blue once more.
A long conference table stretches between four women.
Mira sits with one leg crossed lazily over the other, chair tilted precariously back. Zoey’s curled up sideways in a chair, sipping bubble tea like it contains the last drops of serotonin in the world. Rumi’s supposed to be taking minutes on her tablet, but she’s already composing their next song. Celine sits slightly apart, at the head of the table, posture perfect, expression unreadable as she scrolls through something on her tablet with faint disapproval.
“I’m just saying,” Mira says, flicking dirt from under her manicured nails, “now that the door to literal hell is officially closed, we can focus on what actually matters.”
“New music!” Zoey says with a grin.
“Our fans,” Rumi adds.
“And a new tour,” Mira nods.
Celine murmurs, “Assuming no more demons steal your fanbase.”
Mira waves a hand. “Minor detail.”
There’s a knock at the door.
All four heads snap toward it.
Bobby pokes his head in, clutching his phone like it’s a talisman against evil. “Uh. Sorry to interrupt.”
Mira sighs. “If marketing’s back with another offer from Riot, tell them Rumi looks nothing like Powder.”
“It’s not marketing,” Bobby says quickly. “It’s… uh. You have visitors.”
Zoey perks up. “What kind of visitors?”
Bobby swallows. “The Saja Boys. They’re downstairs. In reception. Asking for a meeting.”
For a second, the room goes still.
Rumi stops tapping away. Zoey’s drink hovers midair. Even Celine looks up from her tablet.
“All fi— four?” Mira asks, voice sharp.
“Three,” Bobby replies. “Romance. Baby. Mystery. Abby’s not with them.”
The girls exchange glances.
“Did they say what they wanted?” Rumi asks.
“No,” Bobby says. “Just that it’s important.”
Celine leans back in her chair, fingers drumming the table. She exchanges looks with the girls and then back at Bobby. “Send them up.”
Bobby nods and disappears. The door clicks shut behind him.
Zoey exhales. “What do you think they want?”
“Doesn’t feel like they’re returning Rumi’s sword,” Mira says.
“If they’re coming to us, it’s serious,” Rumi says.
Celine fixes her gaze on the door, voice low and even. “Let’s see what they have to say.”
They don't have to wait long. Shortly after Bobby leaves to let the boys in, there's a knock at the door.
It opens and Romance enters first, looking grave and serious. Baby trails after, hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie, his usual bravado replaced by an aura of contrition. Following them is Mystery, moving with a silent grace, his gaze inscrutable as ever.
Without a word, the three Saja Boys drop to their knees. Foreheads to the floor. Not a bow, but a supplication.
The room falls still. Even Zoey’s straw freezes mid-slurp.
Romance’s voice breaks the silence, low and resonant. “Thank you. For freeing us. For completing the Honmoon. For severing Gwi Ma’s hold.”
He stays bowed as he speaks. “We know we have no right to ask anything of you. We came to offer ourselves—whatever justice you believe we deserve, we will submit to it. But before that… we have a debt to repay.”
He finally lifts his head fully. His eyes flick briefly to each of them, then settle on Rumi. “We believe our captain can still be saved.”
The girls exchange uneasy glances.
Mira’s voice is flat. “Saved?”
“His body fell into the demon realm. His soul—” Romance nods toward Rumi, “—may still tethered to your blade. We believe he’s holding on. A soul can remain outside a body for 49 days. It’s only been two since... since then. If he chooses to hold on to your sword, we may have a chance to restore him to his body.”
“We can bring him back,” Romance says. “But we can’t do it alone. We need your help.”
Mira leans back, arms folded. “And I’m supposed to just believe you demons—who literally tried to kill us, as you said, two days ago—are doing this out of the goodness of your hearts?”
Romance doesn’t flinch. “No. We’re doing it because we owe him. And because we can’t live here knowing we left him behind.”
“How do you suppose we can help?” Rumi asks.
Romance inclines his head. “His body is in the demon realm. We ask your permission to open—”
“Open what exactly?” Mira jumps out of her seat, already taken aback and pissed.
Celine’s expression tightens. “You expect us to open a tear in the Honmoon after what we just went through sealing it?”
Romance bows his head low again. “A small one. Only where the veil’s thin. Just enough for us to slip through.”
“That’s still a breach,” Mira snaps. “We sealed that rift with our voices. With our lives.”
Zoey raises a hand. “Maybe just… hear them out?”
Celine’s gaze sharpens. “That’s a dangerous ask.”
Romance’s tone softens. “We know. But if we succeed, we’ll help you seal it even stronger, do whatever you ask of us. We’re not asking for leniency. Only permission.”
There’s a long pause.
Rumi takes Mira’s hand, gently pulling her back down to her seat. “Jinu was the reason we finished the Honmoon. And it wasn’t to save himself, it was to save all of us.”
Mira exhales sharply. “Still doesn’t mean I trust them.”
“Then don’t trust them,” Rumi says. “But we can still help.”
Celine studies Rumi for a long beat, then turns to the boys. “Get up.”
Romance rises first. Baby follows, awkwardly brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. Mystery says nothing, but his head is still hung low.
Zoey stands, gestures toward the empty chairs on the other side of the table from them. “Please, sit. Sit. This is way too formal, it's stressing me out.”
As the boys take their seats, Celine folds her hands on the table. “So. What exactly is your plan?”
Romance leans forward. “We believe our captain’s soul is stable in the blade. But his body is in the demon realm, and we have less than seven weeks before his soul dissipates. We need to enter the demon realm, retrieve his body, and reunite it with the soul.”
“Okay, and how do you know the soul is even… staying?” Rumi asks. “He wanted to be free.”
Romance hesitates. How do you explain to Hunters what it means to be bound through centuries, not by chains, but by choice? The kind of loyalty that becomes instinct. His certainty that Jinu would anchor himself to the edge of oblivion, if only to walk one step further beside the one who’s never left his side?
Quietly, he says, “We have reason to believe… there’s something he wouldn’t leave behind.”
“Okay, so you’ve got his soul Rumi’s sword, and you just want us to what? Open the door for you?”
Romance winces, shaking his head. “We don’t have your weapon. Abby took it from you and disappeared. We haven’t seen or heard from him since.” Then he turns to Rumi. “That’s why we need your help specifically.”
Rumi blinks. “Mine?”
“We think our captain’s magpie is still with you,” Romance explains. “He enchanted it with two sets of extra eyes. One for recon. One… so Abby could always know he was safe.”
(In the side, Baby shudders, muttering lowly, “The only good thing about the Honmoon is not having to deal with gumihos ever again.”)
Mira raises her voice. “Are you telling me Jinu and Abby have been peeping on Rumi?!”
Rumi’s face flames. “Excuse me?!”
Baby groans. “Relax. You’re not Abby’s type.”
Mira scoffs. “Rumi’s everyone’s type.”
“I assure you, not Abby’s,” Baby says, rolling his head with his eyes. “And despite what you think of us, our captain’s old and also a bit of a prude. I'll eat my hat if he peeped.”
Rumi raises a hand before things spiral, already feeling a headache building. “Okay. How does the magpie help?”
Finally, Mystery speaks. “It’s connected to Abby. Just give it to us and it will lead us to him, wherever he is.”
Romance nods. “Yes. Once we find Abby, we regroup. Then we plan the breach.”
Celine glances at the girls. “Thoughts?”
Zoey looks at Rumi and Mira and gives a tentative thumbs-up. Rumi nods. Mira grimaces but doesn’t argue.
Celine finally sighs. “Looks like the girls want to help you.”
The boys stand. Romance bows deeply. Baby and Mystery follow suit.
“Thank you,” Romance says. “We won’t waste it.”
**
The magpie takes them through Seoul’s dense skyline, weaving through tangled power lines and rooftop gardens. Neon lights flicker as midnight settles into the city, but the bird veers away from the bright bustle. It flies past quiet convenience stores, shuttered saunas, and alleyways dense with steam and graffiti, until the city’s polished edge begins to fray.
There, tucked between an abandoned parking garage and old factories, it lands atop the slumped awning of a condemned recreation centre. The building leans into itself, sagging with the weight of time, windows boarded and tag-covered, and half the sign out front hangs by a single rusted bolt, swinging in the breeze.
Baby makes a face. “Well, this doesn’t scream ‘cosy hideaway.’”
Romance doesn’t reply, but he’s inclined to agree. It looks like a place where forgotten things go to let time slowly wear them away and return them back to the earth.
The magpie flutters its wings and flies in through a broken window.
They slip inside after it, footsteps echoing across cracked tiles. The air smells like mildew, dust, and chlorine.
They follow the bird’s lead through empty corridors and water-stained walls until they reach the pool. Now, it’s just a dry basin with cracked blue tiles and jagged concrete. The only thing filling it is moonlight spilling in through shattered windows.
At the bottom, Abby sits in the deep end.
He’s hunched low, knees drawn in, arms curled tightly around Rumi’s sword like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the world. His eyes are glazed, distant, more ghost now than he ever was as a reaper.
It’s a strange, disquieting sight. Abby, the one who never faltered, who always smiled through the worst of it, looks hollow. The unshakable strongman is gone, and in his place sits a shadow, cracked and crumbling.
Romance is the first to move. He steps to the edge of the pool but doesn’t climb down. “Abby.”
No reaction.
Baby sucks in a breath. “You sure he’s not, y‘know—?” He twirls a finger near his temple, drawing loops.
Mystery gives him a look, and Baby raises his hands in appeasement.
Romance finally jumps down, his voice soft. “We have a plan. We’re going to bring him back. I’m certain we can do it.”
It’s slow. Almost imperceptible. But Abby’s head lifts, just enough to see them. Recognition bleeds into his expression, and something in him seems to shatter.
“I… I don’t know what to do now. He wanted to be free, and I wanted him to be free… But he’s not here and I still am.” His voice is raw, worn, stripped down, exhausted.
Romance slowly approaches and kneels beside Abby. “He’s not gone. We can still save him.”
Abby looks down at the sword in his arms, knuckles white around the hilt. For a moment, no one speaks. The only sound is the wind whistling as it passes through old pipes, and the faint flutter of wings from the magpie, perched high above like a sentinel.
Finally, Abby looks up again.
“What do I have to do?”
Romance offers his hand.
**
SB Entertainment’s base is an unremarkable mid-rise wedged between office towers. Inside, the remaining Saja Boys gather around their usual meeting table, each of them carefully not looking at the empty chair where their captain should be.
Romance wastes no time.
“The plan is simple,” he says. “Gwi Ma thinks we’re dead or erased. He won’t be looking for us. We sneak in, find the captain’s body, pull his soul from the sword, and get out before Gwi Ma notices.”
“We really have different definitions of ‘simple’,” Baby says, frowning.
Romance ignores him. “The Hunters will open the Honmoon where it’s naturally thinnest, and when it’s naturally thinnest between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m. They’ll hold this tear for those two hours, and repeat it every night for the next 45 days.”
“Then we find his body, I got that bit,” Baby says. “But how do we put his soul back? We know how to take souls out but no one taught us how to do it the other way around.”
“I don’t know… but I do know… of someone who can tether a soul back to its vessel.” Romance says. “Pyo Do.”
“He’s real?” Mystery asks.
"Baby squints. “Who the fuck is that?”
“A spider demon,” Abby answers before Romance can. “Old as Gwi Ma. Feeds on emotions rather than souls. Steals faces. He has no form of his own, just wears the ones he’s taken.”
“Charming,” Baby mutters.
Romance nods. “But he’s also a weaver. If anyone can stitch a soul back to a body, it’s him.”
Abby leans forward. “Do you know where he is?”
Romance hesitates. “I have… a vague idea. Last I heard, he was near Geomi Jambuk Gorge. There might be a map in my old study. Assuming Gwi Ma hasn’t torched it down in anger.”
Baby stares. “Let me get this straight. We need to find where Jinu’s body landed, hope it’s not in Gwi Ma’s lap, grab it, get the map from a possibly-destroyed hellbase, find a primordial spider, not get our faces stolen, convince him to help us, all without the omniscient evil incarnate noticing us. And hopefully our nemesis the Hunters will just let us walk back in?”
He exhales. “Great. Fantastic. Love that.”
Mystery grunts. “Sounds doable.”
Baby glares at him. “Yeah? Well who the fuck said it wasn’t?!”
Abby sits up straighter. “I’ll go.”
Everyone looks at him.
“I’ll do it alone. Jinu wanted to free all of you. I don’t care about going back or being stuck there. I’ll find his body, the map, the spider—everything. You don’t need to risk yourselves.”
Baby groans. “Jesus, you’ve got big dick energy, but not that big. You need us.”
Mystery nods once. “Time limit.”
Romance presses gently, “Exactly. Forty-five days isn’t long. The more hands, the better chance we make it.”
Baby raises a brow at Abby. “He’s our captain too, y’know.”
There’s a long beat. Abby’s jaw tenses, but then he exhales, slow. “…Fine.”
Romance smiles slightly. “Glad we’re in agreement.”
He looks to the group. “Abby and Baby, you’ll take the magpie and track the body. Mystery and I will find the map.”
The magpie flaps its wings from the window ledge, as if in agreement.
“If you run into trouble,” Romance continues, “rendezvous at the tear. We regroup, plan, and go again.”
Abby nods.
Baby stretches, popping his neck. “Alright. Let’s go break into the demon realm.”
**
Jirisan had always been steeped in old magic. The mountain’s spiritual energy was dense, tangled with centuries of folklore, one of the few places where the boundary between realms thinned naturally.
If there was anywhere left in Korea that could bear the weight of a tear without drawing Gwi Ma’s attention, or collapsing the Honmoon entirely, it was here, in the national park's Old Growth Groves.
Mist coils low to the ground, threading through tree roots like silver veins, and the air smells of pine, damp stone, and the hush of old things watching.
The Saja Boys stand beneath dense trees, the few slivers of moonlight slipping through the canopy catches the curve of their weapons and the tension in their shoulders. Abby clutches the hilt of Rumi’s sword, knuckles tight, eyes locked on general direction where where they expect the girls to arrive from.
They don’t wait long. Huntrix soon appears, with Celine trailing behind, all cool command.
Celine surveys the boys, then the landscape. “We’ll open it to let you in now. And come back tomorrow at the same time to open it again for two hours.”
“If anything comes through that isn’t you, it won’t be walking back,” Rumi adds.
Mira crosses her arms. Her voice is steel. “And if the tear risks destabilising the Honmoon? We shut it. Permanently.”
Romance stiffens. “We understand.”
“I’m not negotiating,” Mira says. “We’ll give you a path in. If it looks like it’ll cost the world to give you a path back—we seal it. No matter who’s on the other side.”
There’s a beat of silence. Romance looks to Baby, Mystery, then Abby.
They all nod. Abby doesn’t speak. He just grips the sword tighter, gaze unwavering.
Romance turns back to Mira and bows his head. “We accept.”
“Time,” Rumi says, checking her phone. “It’s close.”
Zoey flashes the boys a grin. “Ready for your demon realm vacation?”
Baby snorts. “Oh yeah, love a good underworld hike.”
Mira steps forward. She draws her glade into existence, its edge humming with latent power. She traces a line in the air, and the space parts like fabric.
The tear slashes open with a hiss, reeking of sulfur and something old and foul.
Romance is first through, slipping into shadow like it’s second nature. Mystery follows, silent as ever.
Zoey raises a hand and tries to give Mystery a little wave as he passes. “Come back in one piece, okay?”
Baby hesitates just a second, then rolls his shoulders and ducks in after them.
Abby’s last. Abby exhales once, and steps through.