The penthouse should have been quiet.

It wasn’t.

Rumi stood near the panoramic window, arms crossed, purple braid draped over her shoulder as faint Honmoon threads shimmered around her like a warning. She could feel the disturbance—tiny fluctuations in the barrier magic, like someone deliberately tapping a cracked glass pane.

Behind her, Mira sat on the back of the couch, long legs folded up, cleaning her darts with sharp, irritated precision.

Zoey was pacing.

“I just don’t get it,” Zoey muttered, peering toward the opposite side of the penthouse where chaos reigned. “Why are they… singing?”

On cue, the Saja Boys’ voices rose in an intentionally off-key harmony.

🎵 “Hoooonmoo~n so fragi~le—oops—did we crack it?” 🎵

Rumi’s jaw tightened.

Across the invisible line dividing the penthouse, Jinu lounged upside-down on a floating chair, hands folded behind his head, smiling like a demon who knew exactly how close he was to being stabbed.

Abby was shirtless. Again. Doing slow, exaggerated stretches in front of a mirrored wall that absolutely did not need him flexing in it.

Romance reclined dramatically on the kitchen counter, conjuring glowing pink hearts that popped loudly every few seconds just to be annoying.

Mystery stood silently near the speakers—cranking the volume just below the threshold that would justify violence.

Baby Saja sat cross-legged on the table, rapping at lightning speed while flicking grapes at Huntrix’s side of the room.

Zoey caught one midair.

Her eye twitched.

Mira didn’t look up. “Three seconds.”

Rumi exhaled slowly. “Do not start a fight.”

“I didn’t say who would start it,” Mira replied flatly.

Another heart popped.

Another lyric about “hunters with pretty songs and fragile shields” echoed through the penthouse.

Rumi turned.

Her voice, calm but edged with steel, carried effortlessly across the room. “Jinu.”

He flipped upright in midair, landing gracefully on his feet. “Leader to leader,” he said pleasantly. “What can we do for you?”

“You’re destabilizing the Honmoon on purpose.”

Romance gasped, hand to chest. “On purpose? Jinu, how dare she accuse us.”

Abby grinned. “Yeah, we’re just… vibing.”

The floor shimmered faintly beneath Huntrix’s feet—golden threads pulsing in response to Rumi’s rising emotion.

Zoey leaned forward, hands on hips. “If your ‘vibing’ makes the Honmoon flicker again, I’m throwing knives.”

Baby smirked. “Ooo, threats. Cute.”

He rapped faster.