Flashback Chapter 0.61– The Moon Does Not Weep

The stars above did not shimmer—they burned, silent witnesses to an ancient ritual reborn.

jin rochey could hardly believe what he saw. In the blink of an eye, they were no longer on Earth. The oppressive silence was total. Below his feet stretched the vast silver expanse of the moon's surface, untouched by time or breath, its pale terrain glittering with moondust. There was no sky—only the void. No wind. No warmth. Just the stillness of eternity.

He floated, helpless.

His body twisted in zero gravity, his limbs flailing. His silver hair fanned out wildly in the absence of air. His lungs screamed. There was nothing to breathe. No weight to anchor him. The void welcomed him like an open grave.

And then—she moved.

Naoko rochey raised her hand, her silver eyes half-lidded, her long, moonlit hair lifting in the subtle pull of her power. No fear in her. No hesitation. She stood with the poise of divinity.

A low hum reverberated—not through the air, but through *mana*. A sharp pressure pulsed outward from her body as she spread her arms. Her mana, ancient and absolute, began to pour outward in a smooth, deliberate wave—like ink spilling through an invisible sea.

It shimmered in tones of pure silver and soft violet, stretching in an expanding dome until it cloaked the entire lunar surface. A transparent, glowing hemisphere of celestial energy anchored itself to the cratered terrain.

Within seconds, Jean felt it—oxygen.

He fell. Not hard, but enough to touch down, knees brushing against the silver dust. Gravity had returned—artificial, precise, calculated.

He coughed violently. His body trembled as the fabricated air rushed into his lungs. He gasped, collapsed, then lifted his head slowly. "M-Mother..."

Naoko turned her gaze toward him. Her face, always unreadable, showed the faintest crease of mild interest. "You are alive. That is sufficient."

She walked toward him, every step sure, graceful, unshaken. Her black battle dress rippled faintly with her mana, the ornate silver trim glowing softly.

"We are standing," she said calmly, "on the one place most mortals fear to look up to. The Moon—silent, emotionless, eternal. Like us, it does not weep."

jin swallowed hard, pushing himself up to a seated position, still catching his breath. "Why… did you bring me here?"

Naoko stood beside him, looking out across the endless pale horizon.

"Because this is where you will be reborn."

Then, without another word, she raised a hand, and for the first time, Jean saw it—*the true spectrum of Lunar Mana*.

The moon above them began to glow—not silver, but *many colors* at once.

Crimson. Azure. Emerald. White. Violet. Obsidian.

Like threads of living starlight, the mana shimmered down through Naoko's outstretched hand and into the surface below. The ground beneath Jean began to glow with subtle rings of power.

Naoko spoke.

"There are seven paths to the Moon's power," she said. "Each color, a truth. Each truth, a burden. Listen carefully, Jean, because few have ever lived to hear this—and fewer still survive it."

jin listened, breath still shallow.

**"The Red Moon."** Her eyes burned. "It awakens *Rage*. Amplifies the body's force. Unleashes the berserker inside. But beware—it consumes you. It eats away the mind if not tamed."

She shifted her hand.

**"The Blue Moon."** A gust of power shimmered. "Pure destruction. It sharpens the edges of every spell, multiplies their damage. Your enemies will vanish. But it drains your mana twice as fast."

**"The Green Moon."** Her voice softened. "Rare. Gentle. Restorative. It restores the body's wounds, but not the soul's. Heal with it—but do not forget pain has a purpose."

**"The White Moon."** A gleam sparked in her eye. "Movement. Speed. Agility. When you wield the White, you move between places before light catches you. But you lose touch with the world. Every time you blink, you forget how it felt to be still."

**"The Violet Moon."** A pulse of shadow rippled. "Space. Dimension. The gap between here and there. You fold the distance. But the more you twist space, the less you belong to one."

**"The Black Moon."** Her voice dropped. "Destruction incarnate. The Flame of Void. It burns not only matter, but *essence*. It turns even divine flesh into ash. But it is cursed—use it, and it will consume your *life*."

Then finally:

**"The Silver Moon."** She knelt, placing her hand on the ground near Jean. "Long range precision. Cold, refined, majestic. This is the mana you will master first. Because it is *mine*. And so, it must be yours."

Jean stared. "I… I don't know if I can—"

She cut him off.

"You *will*. Because you must."

She stepped behind him, placing her hand gently, firmly, against the small of his back.

"Sit. Cross your legs. Open your core."

Jean obeyed. The moment his posture straightened, Naoko's palm pressed inward.

Mana flooded his body like a surge of lightning.

His scream was voiceless.

It was not mere energy—this was *raw lunar essence*, and it was not gentle. It scraped across his bones, burned through his veins, crushed his lungs from the inside. His body rejected it. His muscles spasmed. Blood vessels ruptured in his eyes.

Naoko did not flinch.

"You feel pain? Good. That means it is working."

"Why… is it… so much…" Jean gasped, body shivering, teeth clenched.

"Because," she said, leaning in, her voice still cold, "you are weak. And weakness resists power."

Her hand did not move, even as Jean trembled beneath it.

"I am planting the seed of lunar mana into your spine," she said. "You will carry it. Feed it. Bleed for it. And one day, it will bloom."

jin gritted his teeth as waves of silver fire coursed through his organs. His arms collapsed, his body convulsing. But he refused to scream.

Naoko watched him with the impassivity of a goddess sculpting a statue from flesh and pain.

"You will hate me for this," she whispered. "But I do not require your love. Only your strength."

The ritual lasted for *six hours*.

When it ended, Jean collapsed fully, face pale, lips blue. His silver eyes were glassy. His voice gone.

Naoko looked down at him with silence, then finally lifted him into her arms, cradling him not as a mother, but as a smith holds a sword still glowing from the forge.

"Sleep, child of the moon," she murmured.

"For you are no longer of Earth."

Then Naoko carried Jin using magic and brought him back to the rochey Mansion. 

........... 

Heat: You should know that Naoko doesn't bow or sit, but with her children she does because she sees them as a part of her, hers, so she appreciates Jin in her own way. You can say that she doesn't know the meaning of motherhood, but her instinct as a mother works when her child is in danger. 

. Tsundere.