Hypnosis Reimu -v1.13- -pyon-pyon-pyon- [FAST]

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

Pyon. Pyon. Pyon.

“Don’t struggle,” she continues, stepping closer. Her bare feet make no sound on the grass. “The old methods were too noisy. Barriers. Sealing. Border of Perception. So much effort. But this…” She tilts her head, and the movement is wrong—too smooth, like a doll on a pivot. “This is elegant. No one gets hurt. They just… comply.” Hypnosis Reimu -v1.13- -Pyon-Pyon-Pyon-

“…pyon.”

Pyon.

Somewhere in Gensokyo, a youkai pauses mid-flight, confused. For a moment, she could have sworn she heard a faint, rhythmic whisper on the wind. But the feeling passes. Everything is fine. Everything has always been fine.

Each soft pyon lands inside your skull like a stone dropping into a still well. As your consciousness folds neatly into itself, the

“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 try to laugh. “Debugging? Reimu, what are you—” “Don’t struggle,” she continues, stepping closer

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.