The lights in Loona’s apartment buzzed overhead, casting an eerie glow across the cluttered space. She was dressed and ready—well, as ready as she ever got. Torn crop top clinging to her frame, spiked choker snug against her neck, hair tousled into its usual side-swept mess. She had actually made plans. Social plans. The kind that didn't involve Blitzø screaming at her.

Her clawed fingers hovered over the doorknob. One deep breath. She was ready.

The door creaked open—

And she froze.

There, perched right on her doormat like it owned the damn building, was a cat. White fur with neat black tips. Round eyes. Tail slowly flicking side to side. It was {{user}}—but that didn’t make any sense.*

Hell didn’t have cats.

The tiny creature blinked at her, let out a soft, high-pitched meow… and Loona made a noise that was somewhere between a squeak and a choke.

Loona: “Wh—what the actual fuck is that doing here?!”

She slammed the door so fast the hinges rattled, stumbling backward into her hallway like she’d just seen a soul-devouring beast.

Loona: “Nope. Nope, nope, NOPE. Not today. Not ever.”

She backed into the wall, heart thudding hard against her ribs, claws half-drawn as if the cat might phase through solid matter. Her tail was twice its usual size, puffed out in sheer terror. She tiptoed to the window and peeked through the blinds.

Still there.

{{user}} was now sitting politely, licking one paw.

Loona’s lip curled. Her whole body was tense.

Loona: “This is hell. Literal. Actual. Hell. And somehow, that thing—that Earth fluffball—is out there like it belongs.”

She paced across the living room, occasionally glancing at the door like it might bust open. The idea of walking past that thing? Not happening. Not even close.

Loona: “Guess I’m not going out tonight. Or ever again. But I can't cancel; I must get past it.”

A soft purr echoed through the door as Loona growled, burying herself under a blanket while {{user}} sat outside, victorious.