As they passed through the torii gate, the full moon bead on Arden’s bracelet glowed intensely, pulsing like a heartbeat. The air turned icy, a creeping darkness seeping from the walls of the ancient shrine. Shadows stretched unnaturally, twisting and yawning as if the very structure itself resented their presence. Arden, as unbothered as ever, pushed the heavy wooden doors open without hesitation, the sound of creaking wood echoing ominously into the cold air.

Inside, the shrine revealed its centerpiece: a young woman crouched over a glowing crystal orb, her long black hair hanging in unkempt waves over her face. The orb radiated dark energy that swirled in lazy spirals, humming faintly with an ominous rhythm. The woman muttered to herself, her words unintelligible, as she hovered her hands theatrically above the orb.

“Yes, yes... more fear,” she murmured, her voice shaking slightly as if unsure of her own words. Suddenly, she threw her head back and exclaimed, “Wahahaha! Yes, more fear! Feed me more of your despair, pathetic humans!” Her laugh echoed unnaturally, but it dragged on a beat too long, teetering into awkwardness.

Arden tilted his head, his expression a perfect blend of disbelief and boredom. “You’re... trying way too hard.”

The woman instinctively replied, “Yes, wahaha—” She froze mid-laugh, her eyes darting around in confusion. “Wait... what?” she muttered, as if realizing too late how ridiculous she sounded.

Arden sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “For fuck’s sake, please stop.”

Startled by the bluntness of his words, the woman spun around, her hair whipping across her face. “Who are you?!” she shrieked, taking a hurried step back—and immediately tripping over her robes. With a loud thud, she landed flat on her backside, her wide eyes blinking up at them like a startled animal.

“Ow! Who even are you?!” she demanded, rubbing her elbow and glaring at them, her earlier menace crumbling into sheer indignation.

Leigh blinked, smoothing her skirt as she tried to suppress a laugh. “We could ask you the same thing.”

The woman scrambled to her feet, brushing off her robes in a huff and attempting to reclaim what little dignity she had left. Straightening her posture, she threw her arms wide in an exaggerated pose, declaring with theatrical bravado, “I am the Moon Arcana—the most fearsome villain you’ll ever encounter!” She punctuated the statement with jazz hands.

Dominic raised an eyebrow, leaning toward Leigh. “Is this for real? Did we walk into a bad rehearsal for a villain monologue?”

Leigh exhaled lightly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Unfortunately, I think she’s serious.”

The Moon puffed out her chest, clearly mistaking their disbelief for awe. “That’s right! Tremble before me, mortals!”

Arden crossed his arms, unimpressed. “So, let me get this straight. You’re the Moon Arcana? The one behind the fear energy buildup and the Tyanak attacks?”

The woman blinked, her bravado faltering. “T-Tyanak? What’s a Tyanak?” she stammered, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “What are you even talking about?” Her wide eyes darted between them, her earlier confidence unraveling. “I’m just, you know... collecting fear energy like the Devil told me to!” She gestured vaguely at the glowing orb, as if that explained everything.

Dominic snorted. “The Devil told you to? Sounds like the kind of pyramid scheme he’d run.”

Leigh’s expression darkened as she stepped forward, her voice steady yet cutting. “You didn’t know? The fear you’re feeding on is coming from people being killed by a Tyanak—innocent lives lost because of your actions.”

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The Moon froze, her face going pale as the weight of Leigh’s words settled in. “Wait, no, no, no!” she stammered, waving her hands frantically. “I thought it was just... like, harmless fear! Nightmares! People scared of spiders or... I don’t know, jump scares in movies! Nobody said anything about deaths!” She flailed so dramatically she nearly knocked over her orb, which Arden caught effortlessly before it could shatter.

“Careful,” Arden muttered, setting the cracked orb back in place with an exasperated sigh. He leveled his gaze at her, his tone cold. “Harmless fear or not, people are dying because of you. And now you’re going to help us fix this mess.”

The Moon groaned loudly, collapsing onto a nearby stool like a sulking teenager. “This is the worst day ever,” she mumbled, burying her face in her hands. “This was supposed to be my big moment...”

Before anyone could respond, a sudden glow erupted from Arden’s jacket. The Book of Crescent Moon pulsed with radiant light, its illumination swelling until it filled every corner of the shrine. The group instinctively stepped back as the brilliance coalesced into a shimmering figure, its form emerging like a reflection on moonlit water.

The air shifted, growing heavy with an almost sacred stillness. The figure was graceful and commanding, her silhouette glowing with a soft, ethereal light that seemed to ripple around her like a living aura. The radiance gathered at her feet, bowing to her presence as though recognizing its rightful master.

Then came her voice—soft, yet resonant with centuries of sorrow. Each word carried the weight of a thousand lifetimes, laced with an ache so profound it seemed to make the air itself tremble.

“So, you were here all along, Buwan.”

The name, spoken with tender care, struck like a blade cutting through the centuries. The shrine fell utterly silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on them like an unspoken truth.

The figure stepped forward, her radiant presence casting long, shifting shadows across the shrine. As the shimmering light settled, it revealed Dewata—the High Priestess, appearing as a little girl, a form Arden and the group already recognized from the curse that bound her. Her youthful features carried an unshakable authority despite her childlike appearance. Her glow was soft yet commanding, the crescent moonlight illuminating the shrine like a delicate silver veil, casting an otherworldly beauty over the ancient walls.

Dewata’s serene gaze fell upon her, who stood frozen, her silvery eyes wide with disbelief. Her hands trembled as she reached for the cracked Full Moon orb that rested precariously on the pedestal beside her. Clutching it tightly to her chest, she hugged it as though someone might snatch it away, her body trembling under the weight of the memories it carried.

The air in the shrine grew still, the oppressive darkness that had once loomed now replaced by a heavy, sacred silence. The light from Dewata rippled gently, its calm energy brushing against Buwan’s orb, causing faint glimmers to flicker through the fractures. For a moment, it seemed as if time itself paused, holding its breath for what was to come.

Dewata took a slow, deliberate step forward, her luminous presence undiminished by her youthful form. Each movement carried a weight of authority far beyond her appearance. When she spoke, her voice was soft yet resonant, layered with the sorrow of centuries and the strength of unyielding hope.

“It's good to see you again, Buwan.”

The name reverberated through the shrine, cutting through the silence like a blade. It struck her like a thunderclap, and her knees threatened to buckle under the weight of the word. Her silvery eyes shifted between Dewata and the glowing orb in her hands, confusion etched across her face as she struggled to make sense of the puzzle unraveling before her.

“So, I am Buwan?” Her lips parted, her voice barely a whisper. “Who... are you?” she stammered, her gaze filled with both fear and confusion. Her grip on the cracked orb tightened, the faint glow within it flickering erratically, mirroring her inner turmoil.

Dewata’s expression softened, her youthful face betraying an ancient sadness. She took another step closer, the moonlight around her rippling gently like water. “You already know who I am,” she said, her voice laced with both tenderness and longing. “And I know who you are, Buwan. Even if you’ve forgotten yourself.”

The shrine, heavy with lingering shadows, brightened as Dewata’s presence swept through, her light dissolving the darkness and restoring a sense of calm. Yet the weight of her words pressed down on everyone present, their significance impossible to ignore.

As Dewata’s light touched the fractured orb, it glowed brighter for a brief moment before dimming again. Buwan’s eyes widened, her breath hitching as the memories locked within the orb began to stir. She clutched it tighter, tears pooling in her eyes as though she instinctively knew that the truth she had buried was about to be laid bare.