+ Rebirth +

Luna gripped her scythe with newfound confidence, letting its blade arc menacingly over Jon's head. The very fact that she could conjure such a weapon was astonishing. Though she had never laid eyes on it before, there was no luxury of time to admire its design – her life was on the line.

From the corner of her eye, she observed Jon, realizing he was the epitome of a formidable warrior. He was swifter, more resilient, and infinitely more patient than any opponent she'd faced. Possessed, his movements were eerily fluid, every expression eerily vacant. He sidestepped, dodging the scythe's blade with an otherworldly agility, each move executed with surgical precision.

As Luna lunged, she stifled her reactions to her own injuries, using sheer will to drive her forward. While she may have lacked Jon's refined skill, she compensated with fierce, relentless attacks. Soon, her tenacity paid off; Jon began to falter, red stains marring his form, signaling her strikes found their mark. This bolstered her resolve, though she knew better than to think him defeated – his supernatural healing would see to that.

Gripping the scythe's handle more firmly, she intensified her onslaught, matching Jon blow for blow. However, as the battle wore on, she recognized a disheartening truth: both were playing a waiting game, hoping to wear the other out.

Her frustration mounting, Luna pressed on, knowing her options were narrowing. Either she would tear his heart from its cage or sever his head with her blade. She held an advantage; her scythe provided reach and power. In contrast, Jon was left with just his fangs and claws.

In the enveloping darkness, their forms were almost indistinguishable. Luna, with determined precision, aimed the sharp edge of her scythe at Jon's neck, hoping to end him with one fell swoop. But he deftly evaded the blade. Yet, to her surprise, the rear of the weapon struck him squarely in the chest, sending him airborne.

Seizing the moment, Luna moved swiftly towards him, her intent clear. Even as blood oozed from his fresh chest wound, she struck again, the blade now finding his abdomen. The ensuing crimson cascade was alarming.

As Jon crumpled, Luna saw her chance, swiftly pinning him to the cold ground. He feebly attempted to rise but was thwarted by his own weakening body.

This was it.

Repositioning her grip on the scythe, she glared at the man beneath her. Her earlier encounters with rage paled in comparison to the inferno burning within her now. Memories of her own vulnerability at Jon's hands, under the demon's influence, fueled her anger. This entity had wreaked havoc on countless souls, and it was now her duty to put an end to its reign of terror.

"Goodbye, Jon," she spat, voice dripping with venom. "May you rot in the depths."

Yet, as she prepared for the final blow, she saw the corners of Jon's lips curve upwards in a sinister grin. A swirling gray mist emanated from him, darting towards her and slipping past her defenses, finding refuge within her parted lips. A paralyzing dread gripped her, electric pulses coursing through her body, overwhelming her senses.

Engaged in an internal struggle with the demon, she could feel its menacing intent. Both were unyielding, neither willing to relinquish control, especially not with the demon having free rein. It was her predicament that had unleashed this malevolent force upon the world.

In a last act of defiance, Luna willed her scythe to dissolve, summoning in its place a bejeweled bronze dagger. Without hesitation, she plunged the dagger into her own heart, gritting her teeth against the agonizing pain. Drawing upon the last vestiges of her strength, she managed to collapse atop Jon's prone form, darkness quickly claiming her.