#''''human''''

THEY were only supposed to come out on clear days. At least, that's what they were always told. Yet there it was, a sunspot branded into the mist, despite the bloody eclipse hanging over their head. How convenient, then, that this strange fog has restored their strength - and a less useless blade, at that.

The skies part, bringing rows of bow-wielding Lunarians standing atop towering clouds. They don't have time to question why or how they've come. A nearby presence pulls their crimson gaze over their shoulder. Ah, another one of those human things. How nice!