-v1.13- -pyon-pyon-pyon- - Hypnosis Reimu

From the corner of your eye, you see them. Cirno. Aya. A few nameless fairies. They stand in a loose ring at the edge of the clearing, swaying in perfect unison. Their mouths move silently, forming the same syllable over and over.

“That’s it,” Reimu whispers. She’s close enough now that you can see the faint, spiral-shaped glint deep in her pupils—a reflection of something not present in the physical world. A self-hypnosis loop she’s turned outward. “Let go of the incident. There is no incident. There is only the shrine. And the shrine needs peace.”

You didn’t come here for this. You came to report an incident—fairies acting strangely, drifting in circles, muttering about "the new rule." But the moment you stepped past the torii gate, the air thickened. The usual scent of incense and old wood was replaced by something sweeter. Cloying. Like poppies and static. Hypnosis Reimu -v1.13- -Pyon-Pyon-Pyon-

Pyon.

You want to run. You want to scream. Instead, your own lips part, and a soft sound escapes. From the corner of your eye, you see them

Pyon. Pyon. Pyon.

“…pyon.”

As your consciousness folds neatly into itself, the last thing you hear is Reimu’s quiet voice, soft as a sealing charm:

The first thing you notice is the sway. Not the gentle drift of a shrine maiden’s sleeve in the wind, but something metronomic. Deliberate. Reimu stands in the center of the Hakurei Shrine’s clearing, her gohei—the paper-tipped wand of purification—tracing a slow, lazy figure-eight in the air. The sound it makes is less a rustle and more a whisper: pyon. pyon. pyon. A few nameless fairies