The Grove.

Gemini walks slowly, her camera dangling from her hand.

“Conflict. It’s not just a war out there—it’s a war in here.”

She places her hand over her chest.

“We all carry it, don’t we? That voice that whispers, that pull that tugs us in two directions, making us question who we are and what we’re becoming.”

She stops beside a tree, her fingers brushing against peeling bark.

“Take Ayame. The wolf inside her isn’t just a part of her—it is her. It’s the reason she can destroy demons with her bare hands. But it’s also the reason she’s always looking over her shoulder, wondering if the person she used to be is still in there, or if the wolf has taken over completely.”

Gemini turns to speak directly to the camera.

“You fight so hard to purge what you think is unnatural, Ayame, but have you ever stopped to ask what that makes you? You’re not human, not anymore. You’re something else. Something caught between what you were and what you’ve become. And maybe that’s why you fight so hard—because if you stop, you’re scared of what you’ll see when you look in the mirror.”

She begins walking again.

“And then there’s Mighty. The Big Chunk of Funk, the guy who always seems like he’s having the time of his life. But come on, Mighty—we both know that’s not the whole story. You laugh, you dance, you play along, but it’s all an act, isn’t it? Deep down, you’re not like them.”

She crouches down, picking up a fallen branch.

“You’re not evil, Mighty. You’re just afraid. Afraid of what Klaus Way would do if you stopped being the lovable sidekick and started being the man you really are. But here’s the thing—you can only fake it for so long before the act breaks you. So tell me, Mighty: when the curtain falls, who’s left standing on the stage?”

Gemini tosses the branch aside and straightens.

“And Red. The survivor. You want so badly to believe you’re moral, that you’ve got a code, that you’re different from the criminals you’ve led. But here’s the truth, Red: morality doesn’t survive in the life you lead. Deep down, you know the blood on your hands isn’t just a tool—it’s a choice.”

Her steps stop abruptly as she faces the camera fully.

“I know what it’s like to carry that weight, to look at your hands and see the things you’ve done, the choices you’ve made. I’ve done bad things, too. The Red Light District. I’ve… hurt people, and I’ve lost pieces of myself along the way. But here’s the difference between me and you—I didn’t let it break me. I didn’t let it define me. I came out stronger.”

She raises her camera.

“Ayame, Mighty, Red—you’re all trapped in the war within yourselves. But I’m not trapped anymore. I know who I am, and I know what I’ve done. And when we step into that ring, I’m not fighting your demons. I’m fighting you.”

Click.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer than the lies you tell yourselves.”