It had been over a month since that terrible day—since the battle with the Purgatorist that cost them dearly. Annie was killed. Menma was taken.
And the others had all been left scarred, broken, and battered. Pain—both physical and emotional—had seeped into every corner of their hearts.
Lunara had returned as the new Queen of the Witches. A crown she never asked for. A title that felt heavier with each passing day.
But even though it had been weeks since they had all come back, she hadn't held a funeral for Annie.
Not a ceremony. Not even a simple burial.
She couldn't. Not until she found Hanami.
Hanami had been Annie's closest friend, more of a sister than a companion.
Lunara knew it would be wrong to lay Annie to rest without her knowing. She owed Annie that much.
So, for more than a month, Lunara had been wandering across the lands, searching endlessly for the Witches of the West—and for Hanami.
