For the weeps of the Lunar civilisation came as the great, silent God descended down. The lone, yet excluding wing springing out of her as the clasped left hand was brought to the ember's breath. The crimson gaze was more intense than ever, her hair white as the moon itself. The absence that sings lulled the air until at last, she brought out a pocket-note, and wrote on it with her right hand, her writing very concise as she turned it.

["For what I have someone to greet their presence here. You must have a purpose here. Don't you? For this is the land of pure, and it is such a suspicion for an unannounced entry to greet us."]

Sagume remained blank, her gaze betraying nothing but a sense of disinterest and incredulity. The surroundings of the Lunar Capital remained pristine as ever from the impurities of the outside territory.