Hypnosis Reimu -v1.13- - -pyon-pyon-pyon-

“Sleep now. When you wake, you’ll remember only the peace. And you’ll bring it to others. Pyon-pyon-pyon~”

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.

You try to laugh. “Debugging? Reimu, what are you—”

“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-

Reimu nods, satisfied. “Good. Now, let’s begin the induction properly. Look at the gohei. Follow the light. Don’t think about resistance. Resistance is just another bug—and I’ve already patched it.”

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

You realize the pyon-pyon-pyon isn’t just a sound. It’s a waveform. A hypnotic carrier signal layered into the ambient reiki of the shrine. Every time you hear it, the edges of your thoughts blur. You try to recall why you came here. An incident? What incident? The memory slips away like a fish in murky water. “Sleep now

Pyon. Pyon. Pyon.

“You’re just in time,” Reimu says. Her voice is flat. Not angry. Not kind. Just there , like gravity. Her eyes are half-lidded, unfocused, but they track you perfectly. “Version 1.13. I’ve been debugging.”

Each soft pyon lands inside your skull like a stone dropping into a still well. Pyon-pyon-pyon~” The first thing you notice is the sway

From the corner of your eye, you see them. Cirno. Aya. A few nameless fairies. They stand in a loose ring at the edge of the clearing, swaying in perfect unison. Their mouths move silently, forming the same syllable over and over.

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.

The figure-eight grows faster. The pyon becomes a chant. The shrine’s boundary with reality frays just a little more, replaced by a cozy, dreamlike loop where nothing unexpected ever happens. Where no one questions the maiden. Where every incident is solved before it begins.