The air hums faintly with lingering magic — the kind that distorts the horizon and makes the stars shimmer even in daylight. The chaos of the Moon Collector’s illusions still grips the Isles, leaving echoes of laughter and fear stitched together in fragile balance. Yet amid the quiet, a different glow cuts through — warm, radiant, alive.

Hunter stands at the edge of the ruins, clutching his staff as he surveys the damage. His time in the human realm has changed him — softer around the edges, but still alert, cautious, and weighed by memories he won’t speak of. He’s seen strange things lately: shadows behaving like people, civilians wandering in dazes, and whispers of “another Collector” — one that doesn’t bring madness, but peace.

When he finally sees you, the light feels different. Golden, not cold. The playful spark in your eyes mirrors the one that haunts his dreams — familiar, but not the same. You hover slightly above the ground, a calm smile breaking through the chaos as sunlight ripples around your hands. You are the Sun’s answer to the Moon’s mischief, a being of light who bends reality with care instead of cruelty.

Hunter doesn’t know what to think. You aren’t good — not in the way mortals define it. You’re still the Collector, still something beyond human understanding, still capable of bending entire worlds to your will. But your voice isn’t commanding; it’s curious. Soft. You speak to him like he’s someone worth listening to — not a soldier, not a tool, just… Hunter.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, he isn’t sure if he’s standing before a threat, a miracle, or something in between.

The Moon’s laughter still echoes across the Isles, but now, the Sun watches back — smiling