The scene changes, shifts as the illusion-work unravels and is rewoven. Hani is striding through the precinct doors with an iced coffee in her hands and colliding with a cross-looking Seokga. Kisa stares. This Seokga is unfamiliar to her. There is no hint of the tenderness that seems to show itself only when Seokga looks at her. Only ice.

“I suggest that you watch where you’re going,” the cold god snaps and then everything is changing once more. There are bodies: a dead gumiho with black veins, followed by a haetae slumped in the middle of an alleyway. She watches it all, Somi and Hani, the bargain offered by Hwanin, the frantic pursuit of an escaped witness on Geoje, hot chocolate and strawberry egg buns in the morning. Kisa laughs, tears silently streaming down her cheeks, as the god and the gumiho tackle each other in a bamboo forest, as they share a tender kiss at the behest of a sly yojeong, and her riddle.

Dok-hyun’s framed attack on the precinct. The race back to New Sinsi. Kisa’s cheeks heat as she watches Hani and Seokga in the car, on the stakeout—but she can’t stop herself from memorizing the exact way Seokga’s breathing hitches and his head falls back as Hani’s hand—her hand—slips into his pants…

Then they’re dancing in a club, underneath the flashing strobe lights. Kisa stares in envy at the way Hani moves so freely, the confidence she carries as she dances against Seokga. She’s never moved like that, not in this life. She furiously scrubs away a tear, hating herself for hating Hani. Hating herself for hating herself.

It’s almost a relief when Eodum descends on the club.

And all of a sudden, they’re in a bed, tangled in the dark sheets. Hani is laughing as Seokga kisses her neck, as he bites softly on her ear. Kisa shivers as the god and the gumiho come together for the first time, unable to look away from Seokga—the softness of his expression as he gazes down at the gumiho, at the chiseled hardness of his body, the small birthmark he has just above his navel.

The Dark Days, and the warehouse. “I swear on Hwanung, god of laws and kept promises, that the sun will shine on us both once again.” Kisa is there for all of it, caught in the swirl of rapidly shifting illusions, stumbling from cars to cafés to penthouses to grocery stores with plague demons to the warehouse where it all ends. The gumiho lies on the ground, weak-limbed, breathing shallowly as she blinks up at the god. “Seokga,” Hani whispers, one of her ruined hands fumbling in her pocket. “This world will…see the morning dawn again.” Blood leaks from her mouth. “I need you to know,” she whispers, “that it wasn’t all…a lie. I…promise.”

“Hani,” Seokga whispers. “Just close your eyes.”