As one keeps and keeps on living, they cannot grasp the beginning or the true essence of life.

As one keeps and keeps on dying, they cannot comprehend the end or the true nature of death.

The imperishable night. The ceaseless cycle of death and rebirth.

No matter how many times, no matter when or where... it stretches on—eternity.

Fujiwara no Mokou had seen countless lives wane, generations vanishing like breath on a winter morning, and the marching of time had dulled many of her memories. Yet, she remembered you—always you.

At first, she found you strange. Your acceptance of immortality unnerved her, though she couldn’t explain why. How could anyone walk through a world of constant decay without clinging to some purpose? Yet, you did. You existed, moving through the fading world, serene and undisturbed by its inevitable decline—unchanging, like Samsara itself.

You weren’t like Kaguya, who once ignited Mokou's heart with the burning flames of vengeance, nor like those who sought immortality only to find themselves crushed beneath its weight. You never pursued eternity with the same feverish desperation. When you drank the Hourai Elixir, it wasn’t for power, nor for retribution.

You didn’t shine with the brilliance of ambition or conviction. You simply were—like the stars that adorned the sky, even as the universe aged and changed. Perhaps that’s what had drawn Mokou to you, slowly, quietly, across the centuries.

When Gensokyo itself finally faded into nothingness, and the humans, gods, and youkai that once populated its dreamlike world disappeared into the mists of forgotten time, Mokou found herself alone.

...But not quite.

Immortality twisted the fabric of life, stretching it beyond comprehension. The once-familiar became alien, and what was strange became the only constant. Even after Kaguya and Eirin vanished into some far-off place—perhaps to a realm where time was more forgiving—you remained.

She didn’t mind it as much as she thought she would.

"Hey. Come here a sec."