Chapter Text
"The world will know you as pop stars, but you will be much more than that, you will be hunters."
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Demons have always haunted our world, stealing our souls and channeling strength back to their king, Gwi-ma.
Until heroes arose to defend us, born with voices that could drive back the darkness, Singing songs of courage and hope, but hunters are more than Warriors, their music ignites the soul and brings people together, with this connection the first hunters create a shield to protect our world, the Honmoon, e ach generation, a new group of hunters is chosen to fulfill our ultimate duty, a barrier so strong it is impenetrable that will keep demons and Gwi-ma from our world forever, the Golden Honmoon.
--The camera pans to a woman in her forties, standing before five young idols, their eyes wide with purpose.--
“and now, that duty falls on you.” —she says solemnly.
“victory is within your each, It is your voices, your song... that will create the Golden Honmoon.”
The five boys exchange a glance — nervous, determined —
and then answer in unison:
“yes, Celine.”
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CHAPTER 1
"Bad desire"
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The stadium was electric, more alive than ever.
Thousands of fans were pouring in, taking their seats with glittery signs, glowing lightsticks, and endless screams. The concert hadn’t started yet, but it already felt like the biggest night of the year.
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"We love the Saja Boys!"
--Cut to a series of quick fan interviews, like a concert documentary montage -
--"We came for Abby!” says a girl holding a neon banner. “You could say it's like the visual! NOBODY moves like him. Since debut he’s been super strict with his diet—his muscles are literally to die for!”
—“Our favorite is mystery!” shout two excited boys. “His voice is angelic! He literally appeared one day and started singing enchanting songs!--No one’s seen his face, but rumor has it he’s insanely handsome.”
—“we're here for baby!!” a group of girls scream at once, completely losing it. “I would marry him! He is the cutest thing that exists! But when he rap... he gets serious. Like, actually scary."
—“We love romance!” says a girl wiping tears from her eyes. “He is my emotional support idol!. He’s so sweet, AND he has a heart of gold. He’s the best poet you’ll ever hear—and he dances so beautifully.”
—“Jinu is our favorite!” -
cheers a group wearing matching fan shirts. “He’s K-pop royalty! His father used to be in the Starlight Brothers, but passed away not long ago. Celine (her aunt) trained him—and later founded the group. His voice is just… powerful. It makes us cry.”
"We're waiting for them to come out! Right now we're going to practice and—"
Before the girl could finish speaking, the stage suddenly lit up in a burst of crimson and gold.
A low beat pulsed through the speakers, the entire stadium screamed.
The song had begun.
Lightsticks flickered to life, switching to blood-red as if answering a call, fans jumped to their feet, shouting the lyrics in perfect unison—
But something was strange.
The idols hadn’t appeared.
not yet.
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From the window, the South Korean night looks tiny, like a toy world scattered with lights, too distant to touch.
Jinu rests his chin against his knuckles, watching it all disappear beneath the clouds. No one notices how quiet he’s become.—
To anyone else, this would be just another flight, another city, another show, but for Jinu It never feels routine. Not when the weight of it all presses against his chest like armor he never asked to wear.
Behind him, the rest of the team is moving around the cabin, Baby stretches in his seat, already grinning at the mention of dinner, Romance unfolds his tray table, gently setting out the neatly wrapped bento boxes, Mystery wipes his hands with a cloth, placing down chopsticks like it’s a quiet ritual, Abby, ever meticulous, inspects the expiration dates on the drinks with a soft scoff.
There are no adults on board, Bobby, their manager, stayed behind at the venue, preparing everything for the show.
He hasn’t flown with them in years.
The cabin hums with a low quiet—just engines and murmurs between bandmates.
The soft clink of utensils,the familiar scent of warm rice and seasoned seaweed.
But yet,,
Jinu doesn’t move.
His eyes stay locked on the shrinking city below, glowing like the echo of something long gone.
He blinks slowly.
“So small,” he thinks, “for a world that asks so much of us.”
“I swear, if this one has tofu again I’m rioting,” Baby muttered, poking at his bento with mock despair.
Romance chuckled. “You say that every time. And then you eat it all.”
“That’s because I suffer in silence,” Baby grinned dramatically.
“Do it more silently!,” Abby replied, not looking up from his drink inspection.—
Jinu let the chatter happen around him, unmoving.
But even he couldn’t ignore it when Mystery suddenly stiffened.
From his seat near the emergency exit, Mystery tilted his head slightly, listening—
just as Jinu’s phone buzzed on the armrest.
Caller ID: Bobby.
Jinu blinked—
That was… odd.
Bobby never called them during flights.
He answered on speaker.
—“Jinu?!”
Bobby’s voice was sharp. Urgent. Not his usual calm
“Yeah, we’re on the jet. What’s up?”
—“What do you mean you’re on the jet?! You left thirty minutes ago, and you’re not answering your comms— what are you doing circling over Incheon?!”
The cabin fell silent.
“Wait…” Romance frowned. “We’re not landing?”
Jinu’s eyes narrowed. He turned slowly to look at the closed cockpit door.
Baby lowered his chopsticks.
Abby, for once, looked uncertain.
Mystery stood up, slowly, hand instinctively brushing the charm hidden under his sleeve.
—“Guys,” Bobby’s voice was shaky now, “Are you sure you took the right jet?
There was a long pause after Bobby’s last words.
Everyone in the cabin exchanged glances—uneasy, but controlled
Jinu finally picked up the phone.
“We’ll handle it,” he said calmly. “Don’t worry.”
Bobby’s voice tried to cut through again—
“Jinu, wait, don’t—!"