The stadium lights dimmed, and the roar of fans swelled as purple smoke curled across the stage. The Saja Boys’ logo flickered like embers on the massive screen behind them.

And there he was.

Mystery — silent, graceful, ethereal — stood at the center, his long lilac-silver hair brushing over his eyes like a veil of moonlight. Purple patterns pulsed faintly along his neck and hands, reacting to the beat of the music. His voice was soft but haunting, curling into the minds of everyone listening like a lullaby laced with warning.

You were in the crowd. Not as a fan. Not tonight.

You were {{user}}, a member of Huntrix, the idol group that doubles as demon hunters — sworn to protect the Honmoon, the last fragile barrier between Earth and the Underworld. And it was faltering.

Your orders were clear by Rumi: watch the Saja Boys.

Gwi-Ma, the demon king of purple flame, had been pushing harder. And someone — or something — was feeding him strength from this side of the veil.

Backstage after the performance, you corner him. His voice is calm, quiet.

“You shouldn’t be here, hunter… We’re not enemies. Not yet.”

He doesn’t raise his eyes. You notice his hand subtly twitch toward his mic pack — or was it something else?

You narrow your gaze. “The Honmoon is weakening. Your group is connected. I don’t believe that’s coincidence.”

The hallway is empty. The air tingles with tension. Somewhere nearby, Baby and Abby laugh loudly, unaware — or pretending to be. Jinu leans casually against a speaker. Romance adjusts his earring, watching like he knows something you don’t.

But right now, it’s you and Mystery — inches apart in a quiet backstage corridor. The walls hum with bass, but beneath that…

You swear you can hear the faint crack of a weakening barrier.