What occurred next, as the two great armies we were squeezed between met in the middle and commenced their respective assaults upon one another, could scarcely be describe in the inadequate terms of a human who, until barely months ago, would never have dreamed that magic or other supernatural forces of its ilk even existed, much less could be deployed to such devastating effect as it was now. But, just as I have done throughout my journey thus far, I will endeavor to communicate the phenomenon, the sheer miracle of the senses, that now unfolded before me.

Imagine, if you will, a place where the great blanket of stars in the sky has descended upon the earth, covering the landscape in its splendor, dotting the trees and the grass with flashes of sprite-like, burgeoning light that have now grown into mature, enduring, yet no less awe-inspiring orbs of pure illumination, ranging in every color from white to blue to red to yellow to orange. Then, imagine that those stars have begun to oscillate, first vibrating, then rotating about an unseen axis, before being released entirely from their points of reference and flying free about the air, zipping from one end of the world to the other, spearing into the sky whence they came, leaving behind trails of dust and glitter. For a while, they hang in the air, as though suspended once again by the machinations of the void of space. Then, with abrupt yet brilliant aplomb, they come spiraling back down, raining unto those hapless souls that are trapped under their irrepressible storm, bursting into a spellbinding inferno of unbridled, raw energy, consuming all and anything in their wake as they perish in a violent crescendo of flame and fulmination. The sound accompanying all this fanfare is, too, equally chaotic and equally breathtaking, an intermingling cacophony of explosions, fizzles, rumbles and more, heart-stopping in the scale of the destruction wrought alongside the noise, but so fascinating as to render one motionless in the face of its all-consuming wrath. That was, in sum, what confronted me now, a scene that could scarcely be described or detailed, but only felt, only experienced.

As Reimu threw up a shield of whirling red talismans around us, and Marisa rolled up her sleeves and got to work on the youkai, just as she was wont to do, Toyohime drew near, bowing deeply as she approached.

"It is a pleasure to see you again so soon," she said with a wry smile, her calm voice penetrating and clearly audible even amidst the din.

"Watatsuki no Toyohime." Toyosatomimi no Miko, as the seemingly least preoccupied of us, returned Toyohime's greeting with a grin of her own. "You sly Lunarian. I must admit, it is a relief to have you here. We were not wholly in trouble if we needed to flee, but we would have had no means of storming the Scarlet Devil Mansion on our lonesome. Your intervention is most welcome, and I trust I speak for the others when I say this." Upon hearing this, Reimu and Marisa voiced their agreement as well.

Toyohime spread her arms and gestured at the array of mages behind her. "Call upon the Lunar Capital, and the Lunar Capital shall come. We do not shirk our duty, nor fail to return any favors. Your efforts preserved our homeland, and you came to our aid even despite my initial deception. It is only fair – or rather, it is only right – that we come to you when you are in your own hour of need."

"But how did you know about our predicament?" Reimu, who had finished casting her barrier, made her way over to the princess. "Forgive me for saying this, but word does not exactly travel fast between Gensokyo and the Moon. And what of the barrier around the Lunar Capital, which I recall you said you were responsible for?"

"A fair point," Toyohime acknowledged. "For this, you have our most loyal servant to thank. Reisen – our Reisen, that is – noticed the state of the land just as you departed, and immediately sought me out upon returning to the Lunar Capital. We may be largely removed from your affairs, but we know your history well, and we have some knowledge, however rudimentary, of the existence and provenance of the great scarlet smog. It behooved me to summon whatever help I could ask to join me – which, following your kind assistance, involved a fair number of the Corps indeed – and we set out post haste to the Scarlet Devil Mansion, hoping to ease whatever burdens you might be bearing. Lo and behold, we find you here, and I can only thank fortune that we have made it in time. As for the barrier…" A frown overtook Toyohime's features briefly, though it was soon dispelled. "I have already taught my sister how to control the magic that maintains it. My only hope is that I do not return to a frozen wasteland when all is said and done, but I have faith in her abilities, and I pray that you, in turn, have faith in my choices."

"Of course; we have seen what she can do. It is most appreciated." Reimu turned to gaze out at the Mansion, where youkai and Lunarian alike were locked in fierce combat, claw meeting shield, spell meeting scales, a dance of the ethereal and the corporeal that put each side's merits and weaknesses to the ultimate test. "Now, though, I must ask for your help once again, Watatsuki no Toyohime. We must find some way to enter that place. Within lies the solution to everything that troubles us now: to the mist, to the traveler's memories, and to the fate of this realm at large."

"Very well. I will see if we can establish a route. Speaking of the traveler," she said as she glanced up at me, "we have learned much in the days past thanks to your guidance, and I hope you will see the results of our newfound organization bearing fruit here. Please observe."

I did so, and just as Toyohime suggested, the more I saw of what the Lunarian Defence Corps were currently doing, the more impressed I became. Instead of the disoriented, directionless mass of soldiers that had struggled through the streets of the Lunarian Capital in the early days of the Moon's invasion by the denizens of Hell, the Corps were now strategic, efficient, purpose salient in every action, split into groups of roughly ten mages per squad, the squad leader designated by each cell barking orders and deftly moving their team about like pieces on a chessboard. The Lunarians might have been "primitive" in their ways, as Toyohime once suggested, but ignorance was no real indicator of intellect, and of the capacity to learn. Against a rabble of youkai that numbered far greater than them, they more than held their own, and in fact, were beginning to push them back towards the Mansion proper.

"We can watch them another time. For now, we must seize the initiative while we still have it." Miko unsheathed her sword and pointed its blade towards the Mansion. "Watatsuki no Toyohime, on your mark."

"As you wish. Lunarian Defence Corps! Clear the way! We are going in!"

As we began our arduous push forwards, the four of them unleashing spells of all shapes and sizes at any youkai that strayed too close, I took once last look at the people of the Human Village, who remained bound by the spell that emanated from the heavens, continuing to shackle their feet and legs in place, pulling them down the more they toiled mindlessly against their bonds. But there was little point in ruminating over what had happened to them, or why it had happened – the key to all the answers we sought lay straight ahead.

I hoped I would see them again, free and unbound by the wanton whims of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. I hoped to shake their hands and remind them that all was well.

The Mansion doors, just like the rest of the Mansion – and indeed, just like its scions – belied the strength of their construction. At first blush, they appeared rickety, derelict, reinforced only by wrought iron wrappings strapped across the wooden boards they comprised. But closer inspection revealed that their surfaces seemed to hum and vibrate, like the blurred mirage that arose from the scorching hot sands of a desert in the outside world. Clearly, there was more at work than first met the eye. The others, of course, quickly recognized this, and we stopped mere inches away from the portal, as though we might be able to simply push them open with our hands, but never actually doing so.

"Allow me." The shrine maiden stepped forward and unfurled her long, flowing white sleeves. From within, a cascade of cards poured forth, attaching themselves to the doors from hinge to handle until the entirety of the wooden façade was plastered with fluttering paper. Then, with a wave of her hand and a snap of her fingers, the cards withered and burned into ash, and with them, the segments of the door to which they were attached. What little remained of the wood soon crumbled into nothing.

At long last, the interior of the Scarlet Devil Mansion was laid bare for all the world to see. Such was the intensity of the glare of the fighting behind us that to peer into the darkness was to stare into an abyss from which it appeared not even light could escape, the beginning of a dog-eared red carpet stretching into oblivion all that could reasonably be discerned. Otherwise, we would have to rely solely on whatever illumination we could conjure ourselves.

Together, we took our first steps into the Mansion.

Marisa lifted her lantern, breathing a plume of fire into the wick, yet such was the all-encompassing nature of the murk that it shone no further than a few paces from where we stood, as though cut abruptly by some imperceptible obstacle. Reimu produced her own glowing orb that floated around her head, but it, too, did not have much effect in the face of the sheer dark. Additionally, it was not only light that seemed to lose its power in these halls – the sounds that had surrounded us before we entered were instantly silenced, snuffed out like a candle in a strong gust of wind, leaving only the deafening echoes of our footsteps reverberating about the corridors and into the unseen distance.

We walked, slowly but surely, observing the environment around us – at least, what little we could make out from what little vision we had. The walls were exactly as I had seen in my brief stint "here", in another timeline or universe far removed from our present reality: drab beige and gray, peeling at the corners in some places, unkept, unkempt, and in dire want of restoration. The floorboards groaned and creaked frequently as we made our way deeper, the thick, shaggy carpet unable to mask the disrepair that plagued them. At least we knew that wherever those that inhabited this manor were, they would hear us coming long before we heard them.

Once every so often, a gold-framed painting hung on the wall would enter into view, coated in a thin film that suggested it, as with every other aspect of this Mansion, had not been very well taken of. Some depicted abstract scenes of some barren land which bore little resemblance to what I had seen of Gensokyo thus far; others were of people, if they could be called that, whose stony gazes followed us as we passed. As we carried on, the sight of one of these paintings immediately gave me pause, and my feet were duly halted.

"What is it, traveler?" Reimu stopped, as did the others, and turned to see what I was looking at.

"This painting." I pointed up. "I've seen it before."

Miko's eyebrows were slowly raised as she registered what I was talking about. "You mean, in your 'dreams'?"

"Yes, exactly that." I gasped as a second realization took hold of me. "That must mean we're near the library. It has to be somewhere here."

"Indeed it is, traveler from beyond. I see your abilities have flourished well, just as my mistress predicted. And to the rest of you, I bid you welcome to the Mansion once again."

A silhouette emerged from the darkness, stepping into the lamp light. We had not heard their footsteps, and though the others immediately reacted, unsheathing whatever spells or weapons they had on their person, they knew as well as I did that had this new arrival not announced themselves, we may not even have had the time to react. However, the moment their identity became evident to us, I promptly understood why they had not bothered to strike first, and ask their questions later.

It was a face I had wondered when I might see again. It was, perhaps fittingly, also the first face I had ever remembered seeing in Gensokyo.

An expression as cold and unmoving as the ocean-blue eyes from which she stared back at us, flanked by a wave of silver locks, tied in braids, falling about her shoulders. A gown of piercing azure and sterile white, adorned with small, teeth-like frills along the hems, and a matching headband tied loosely to her crown. And, just underneath the dress, largely obscured from view, the tip of a long, thin silver knife, the make of which suddenly sent a newfound rush of revelation through my thoughts.

I had seen that blade once before. But where, and in what circumstances? As I wracked my brain for answers, I soon came to recognize that déjà vu could only take me so far. Whatever we wanted to know – whatever we needed to know – could only be found by acquiescing to whatever the one who stood before us desired of us.

At least, for now.

"We have been expecting you for some time," said Sakuya Izayoi, the maid and housekeeper of the Mansion, her voice quiet as the breeze, yet ringing crisp as the winter air in our ears. "Come with me, if you so please. My mistress awaits you in the guest room."