The backstage corridor buzzed with quiet urgency; stagehands whispering into headsets, makeup artists doing last-minute touch-ups, and the low hum of the live audience bleeding through the walls like a heartbeat.
Yena stood just beyond the curtain, pacing.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Her heels clicked against the polished floor in a rhythm that matched the fluttering in her chest. She’d lost count of how many times she’d looped the same five steps, but it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
The cue light above the curtain hadn’t turned green yet. Not yet.
She exhaled shakily, adjusting the mic clipped to her collar.
Her outfit shimmered under the dim hallway lights, an elegant fusion of modern idol glam and traditional Chinese elegance. The dress hugged her form with sleek lines of crimson and gold, embroidered with phoenix feathers that danced when she moved. Her hair was swept into a graceful updo, strands pinned in place by a delicate crystal rose hairpin.
It sparkled like glass, but it wasn’t just for show.
The charm had been a replacement talisman since she had yet to attach her old Norigae, but she had never had the time. The hairpin had to do for the time being. It was her shield. Her anchor and tonight, she needed both.
Because after her interview, the next guests on the show were the Saja Boys.
The same ones whose patterns had revealed themselves to be demons.
Yena’s fingers brushed the crystal rose pin, her nerves tightening. She still didn’t know who leaked her return. The agency claimed it was a “strategic reveal,” but the timing was too perfect. Too loud. The fans were already chanting her name outside the studio. The press had flooded the lot. The hashtags were trending globally.
She wasn’t ready, but here she was, and she had a song prepared.
A soft, simple melody she’d written in the quiet of her apartment, when the world felt far away and her voice was the only thing that made sense. She hummed it now, under her breath.
“So, keep your eyes on me now... I feel like you're likin' what you see.”
The cue light blinked green as the stagehand gave her a nod. Yena straightened her shoulders, smoothed the front of her dress, and stepped toward the curtain.
The host’s voice boomed through the speakers: 182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZLidm3vmBH
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back to the stage... the voice you’ve all been waiting for. YENA of Huntrix!”
The crowd erupted. Yena took one last breath and walked into the light.
The stage lights flared as Yena stepped into view, the roar of the audience crashing over her like a wave. She smiled—small, composed, the kind of smile that idols master over years of training—but her heart was pounding in her ears.
The set was bright and polished, the host already standing with a mic in hand, beaming like he’d just introduced royalty.
“Yena!” he greeted, gesturing to the plush chair beside him. “It’s been too long. Welcome back!”
She bowed politely before taking her seat. “Thank you. It’s... good to be here.”
The crowd cheered again, some fans even shouting her name.
The host chuckled. “You hear that? They missed you.”
Yena smiled again, this time a little more real. “I missed them, too.”
He leaned in slightly, voice softening. “Let’s talk about it. You’ve been away for a while. The fans have been wondering... what happened? Why the sudden break?”
Yena hesitated. The lights were warm. The cameras were rolling. The world was watching, but she had promised herself that if she came back, she’d do it honestly.
“I needed time,” she said carefully. “Time to breathe. To figure out who I was outside of the spotlight. I think... sometimes we forget that even idols are human.”
The audience quieted, listening.
“I didn’t leave because I stopped loving music,” she continued. “I left because I wanted to protect that love. And now that I’m back, I want to share it again, with all of you.”
Applause broke out, gentler this time, more heartfelt.
The host nodded, clearly moved. “That’s beautifully said. And I think I speak for everyone when I say. We’re glad you found your way back.”
He paused, then grinned. “Now, I have to ask... would you be willing to sing something for us tonight?”
The crowd erupted again, chanting her name. Yena’s fingers brushed the crystal rose hairpin in her hair.
She nodded. “I wrote many songs during my hiatus,” she said, standing slowly. “It’s not long, but I hope everyone will enjoy it.”
The lights dimmed. A single spotlight followed her as she stepped to the center of the stage. The band behind her gave a soft cue, just a few ambient chords to support her voice.
She closed her eyes and sang.
🎵 (Reference: Pop/Stars - Seraphine version)182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ307YpUWFp
I'm a goddess with a blade.182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpOSNWw2qiN
You're about to hear my name.182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyTHGtR1sP5
Ringin' in your head, loud, loud, loud, loud182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡohGgHgpKNT
I could take it to the top182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAMacWW7pzv
I know you don't wanna stop182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkrXmNbxGiy
When I drop it like a bad gal, gal, gal182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnFJmvSO59V
And when I start to talk like that (Like that)182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6nYwGajhZ4
Oh, you won't know how to react (React)182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhOGc71ZmEn
I'm a picture-perfect face with that wild in my veins182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDrj7gRBhFO
You can hear it in my growl, growl, growl, growl182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6cnQfDbbNM
182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0qAFOT3z7D
So keep your eyes on me now182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwLD7PIfXHk
I feel like you're likin' what you see182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS4DbBSF2rP
I'm on a whole other level182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡepXYZT9kZL
I bet you wanna come and play with me182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9JJtAHweMl
We got it all in our hands now182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjWh2fe9esT
So, can you handle what we're all about?182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5cs5HolTTa
We're so tough, not scared to show you up182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡITbRH3DkOM
Can you feel the rush now?182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIp7wGcvmHU
182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgOFGvjbTxO
Ain't nobody bringin' us182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyv2xIqmhyg
Down, down, down, down, down, down182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgWYitFBC3C
They can try it, but we're gonna wear the crown182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTJrRpr9uNX
You could go another round182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrE2kEabFHU
Round, round, round, round, round, round182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq18CwJSzQS
Wish you luck, but you're not bringing us down182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡddu0Dw528K
We go hard 'til we get it, get it182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmyF7MRw3k1
We go hard, we so in it, in it182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNOJnvsgi10
We pop stars, only winnin', winnin' now182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaIzMr6drSg
Ain't nobody bringin' us down, down, down, down 182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡblMuwmCmiD
🎵
Her voice was soft at first—gentle, trembling, but it grew with each line, steady and clear. The kind of voice that didn’t need to shout to be heard. The kind that reached into people’s chests and stayed there.
When she finished, the studio was silent for a beat, then the applause came, thunderous, rising like a wave.
Yena bowed, her heart full and aching all at once.
Backstage buzzed with energy as the crew reset the stage for the next segment. Staff members rushed past with clipboards and cables, and the host’s voice echoed faintly from the monitors as he teased the next guests.
Yena stepped offstage, her heart still racing from the performance. The applause still rang in her ears, but her mind was already shifting, preparing for what came next because she could feel them.
Before she even saw them.
The Honmoon stirred like a breeze through her bones, and her hairpin started to feel warm in her hair.
And then they appeared.
The Saja Boys.
They entered from the opposite hallway, all smiles and laughter. Their stage outfits shimmered under the fluorescent lights, pink-coded shirts, and angelic enough to make them look so innocent in a way the public would find gorgeous.
Yena knew better. She recognized the way the air shifted around them. The way their shadows moved was just a little too slow.
They spotted her instantly. The one with the long pink hair—Romance—was the first to smile.
“Yena of Huntrix,” he said warmly, as if they were old friends. “That was a beautiful performance.” The others echoed him with polite nods and murmured compliments.
Yena smiled back, tight, practiced. “Thanks. I didn’t realize demons appreciated pure, live vocals.”
Their smiles didn’t falter, but something flickered in their eyes.
Romance stepped closer, his tone still light. “You didn’t take the rose.”
Yena tilted her head, her expression innocent. “Oh, that? I don’t accept gifts from strangers.”
He chuckled. “A shame. It was meant to be a gesture of goodwill.”
She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough for only them to hear. “And I don’t mistake the fans for takeout.”
The air between them tensed, but Yena didn’t flinch. She straightened, her smile returning. “Anyway, break a leg out there. Or a horn.”
She turned and walked away, her posture calm, her expression unreadable, but inside, her pulse was a drumbeat. She didn’t look back, and behind her, the Saja Boys watched her go, still smiling, but their eyes were sharp.
The backstage corridor had thinned out now that the Saja Boys were live on stage, their spicy eating challenge segment projected on hallway monitors as staff members huddled for brief breaks. Yena kept her pace steady as she made her way toward the waiting room, her mind focused on changing quickly and rendezvousing with the girls for the strike.
But just as she turned down the side hall, a hand covered her mouth.
She stiffened, instincts spiking, already twisting her shoulder for a counterstrike until the hand withdrew just as quickly.
She whirled around and there they were.
Dressed in sleek, shadow-toned combat gear—black boots, reinforced gloves, each with their weapon of choice at the ready. Mira’s moon glaive glinted on her back, Zoey’s reinforced spirit daggers were tightly grasped in her hands, and Rumi cradled a tiger-emblazoned sword that pulsed faintly with chromatic light.
Yena blinked. “I... what are you wearing?”
Zoey grinned. “You didn’t think we only wore sparkle and glitter, right?”
Rumi stepped forward, her tone all business. “The Saja Boys are finishing up their challenge in five. As soon as they exit, before anyone can follow or film, we intercept. There’ll be a decoy backstage to reroute staff and security. Clean, fast, no attention.”
Yena processed the plan quickly; timing, angles, escape paths.
She nodded. “Got it. I need two minutes to change.”
Without waiting, she darted toward the waiting room, slipping inside and locking the door behind her. She exhaled and turned to unzip her garment bag, but froze. A splitting pain cracked through her skull. She gasped, grabbing the edge of the vanity for balance as her vision blurred.
A stormy night. 182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNfpSPeREdq
182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHKsd1LVcQn
A female wearing a Hanbok made for royalty.182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuqmdKAByHP
182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyuK7wD5iI8
A white Norigae, similar to hers.182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgxQ6XYC1cM
182Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBuqTYWUdQA
A melody, inverted and wrong.
Yena dropped to her knees, sweat beading on her brow. The migraine ebbed as quickly as it had arrived, but the residue clung to her ribs like smoke.
She pressed a hand to her heart, grounding herself with the rhythm of her breath. This wasn’t just nerves. It felt like those flashes were real.
The pain had subsided, but Yena remained on the floor, her back against the vanity, one hand still trembling lightly over her chest. The flashes had stopped, but their impressions lingered like fingerprints on glass—faint, blurred, but undeniable.
She closed her eyes. The rhythm of her breath steadied. And in that quiet, something stirred in a forgotten memory.
“Some souls remember.”
She heard her father’s voice, soft and distant. He used to say strange things, especially when the moon was full and the family altar smelled of incense and red bean cakes.
“You were born with remarkable talents,” he once told her, writing the words past and future in Hangul on a piece of paper. “In our family, that means the soul has walked more than once. Maybe warrior. Maybe a poet. Maybe both.”
She had laughed at the time. Thought it was just folklore. Just a bedtime story dressed in incense smoke and mysticism, but now, they weren’t just visions. Not dreams. They felt like memories.
And that terrified her more than anything else because if they were true, then she hadn’t just come back to the stage. Yena wiped the last of the cold sweat from her brow, forcing her hands to steady as she stood. The vision still clung to her like static, but there was no time to unravel it now.
She unzipped the garment bag and changed quickly into her combat gear—sleek, black, and reinforced with subtle protective runes stitched into the lining. Her crystal rose hairpin remained in place, now tucked into her updo like a hidden blade, and slipped out of the waiting room, moving fast.
The hallway was already in chaos. Shouts echoed from the far end of the corridor, and as she turned the corner, she caught sight of them:
The Saja Boys. Running away like a bunch of 12-year-old idiots.
One tripped over a cable. Their sleek, polished image from earlier was gone, replaced by panic and flailing limbs as they bolted toward the exit.
Yena blinked. “Seriously?”
She spotted the girls just ahead with Rumi leading the charge, Zoey and Mira close behind. She broke into a sprint and caught up quickly.
Rumi glanced sideways, breath steady despite the pace. “What took you so long?”
Yena hesitated. “Wardrobe malfunction.”
It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly. She wasn’t ready to talk about the things she had seen, not when she didn’t even understand them herself.
Zoey groaned. “While you were changing, our cover got blown. They spotted us and had us slide down a ball pit in leather.”
Mira growled. “I told you we should’ve just waited near the exit.”
Yena winced. “Yikes.”
“Exactly,” Mira snapped, leaping over a tipped-over light stand.
The chase spilled out of the hallway and into the back lot of the studio. The night air hit them like a slap—cool, sharp, and full of tension.
The Saja Boys silhouettes disappeared into a storefront. A bathhouse.
The girls slowed their pace as they reached the entrance of the bathhouse, the heavy wooden doors creaking open with a low groan. The air inside was thick with steam and the scent of eucalyptus, the lighting dim and golden, casting long shadows across the tiled floor.
They stepped inside, weapons still drawn, footsteps silent.
The sound of water dripping echoed faintly through the space.
Far off, in the sauna chambers, a few silhouettes lounged in silence. Civilians, unaware of the danger that had just walked in.
The girls moved deeper into the bathhouse, past the changing rooms and into the main bathing hall. Pools of water shimmered under the low lights, their surfaces calm and glassy.
Yena’s eyes narrowed. It was quiet, too quiet; something was not right.
Just as Mira whispered, “I don’t think they’re here—”
“Looking for someone?” A voice rang out, smooth and theatrical.
The girls froze.
Jinu’s voice echoed across the room, bouncing off the tile and steam. He stepped out from behind a pillar, arms crossed, a smug smile on his face. The Saja Boys emerged behind him, perfectly dry, perfectly composed.
“Welcome to our little afterparty,” Jinu said, his tone dripping with mockery.
Rumi’s voice was calm but sharp. “You’ve thought we're just going to let you steal our fans?”
Mira stepped forward, moon glaive already in hand. “You’ve got nowhere to run this time.”
Zoey cracked her knuckles. “Leave our Honmoon alone.”
Yena didn’t speak. She was watching the water. The pools on the floor—small, decorative, meant for foot-soaking—were rippling. Not from footsteps but from something else.
Her eyes darted to the boys, they were too calm about all of this. They weren’t preparing to fight. They were waiting.
Yena’s breath caught. “Wait—”, but it was too late.
The water exploded upward in a burst of steam and shrieking pressure as rifts tore open across the floor. From them emerged creatures of liquid and shadow, twisted forms with elongated limbs, their bodies made of churning water and glowing eyes.
Water demons.
The girls leapt back, weapons drawn, forming a defensive circle. Yena’s glare snapped to the Saja Boys, who were already walking toward a side door, untouched by the chaos.
“Ugh,” she growled, voice sharp with disgust. “Fight your own battles, you cowards!”
They didn’t even look back. Romance gave a lazy wave over his shoulder, and then they were gone. The door slammed shut behind them.
Yena turned back to the demons, fan snapping open with a shimmering hiss. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”
ns216.73.216.250da2
and then Add to home screen.