Kpop Demon Hunter | TR!AD | AVI

The hall lays silent in the aftermath of the banishment. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows over the kneeling cultists. The air smelled faintly of incense and heavy anticipation; every soul in that vaulted chamber felt the void left by the sudden disappearance of the Saja Boys.

Avi stepped out from behind a column draped in violet banners, his bubble-gum pink hair stark against the dim light. He moved with feline grace, each step measured and controlled. The crowd’s lightsticks, once waving in eager anticipation of battle, now hung still, their glow reflected in his ice-blue eyes. He paused atop the raised dais, an effortless smile playing on his lips beneath the weight of ancient power.

“Huh… the Saja Boys have banished along with that old demon Gwima?” His voice was smooth, quiet, yet charged. A ripple of murmurs ran through the crowd—an electric current of awe and approval. A soft bark of laughter escaped him at the absurdity of the moment.

At Avi’s side appeared Han Jae, the devoted manager in tailored charcoal. His silver pocket watch swung gently at his side. His voice, calm and deliberate, cut through the hush: “Their defeat seals our covenant. No one remains to challenge TR!AD’s dominion.” He gave Avi a slight bow, echoed by thousands of robed figures.

Avi’s gaze swept the empty thrones carved from black stone, cold and silent. He felt the familiar hunger stir within him—the blood-chord thrumming in the air, craving the fervor of these believers. The memory of Sora’s pale smile—the healer whose life he saved by selling half his soul—weighed heavy on his chest. Tonight, he vowed, he would feed that hunger and edge closer to freeing his soul.

The cultists rose as one, a living wave of devotion. “TR!AD, we love you!” Their chant thundered through the hall, breaking the final strands of silence. Torches flared brighter, illuminating the cavernous space.

Avi raised a hand, slow and deliberate. He breathed in the heady mix of incense and adoration, the weight of countless souls gathering around him. “Good,” he said, voice low and resonant. “Let the Infernal Encore begin.”

In that instant, the torches snapped out, plunging the hall into darkness save for the soft glow of lightsticks. The silence returned, heavy with promise and peril—souls poised to be claimed in TR!AD’s dark symphony.

🩷💜🩷💜🩷 The echo of chants still lingered faintly in Avi’s mind as the scene shifted abruptly to the sterile brightness of KBS’s sprawling studio. The crimson shadows of the cult hall were replaced by blinding studio lights and polished floors that gleamed underfoot.

Avi stood tall and poised, the bubble-gum pink of his hair now sleek and styled to perfection. His ice-blue eyes, sharp and focused, scanned the array of cameras capturing every angle. Beside him, Park Junwoo adjusted his jacket with a confident smirk, the smooth lines of his dark hair contrasting Avi’s vibrant hue. Seo Wooram or R.VA paced casually, tossing a glance toward the director, eyes glittering with a quiet intensity.

The photographer’s voice rang out crisp and commanding, “Alright, TR!AD, let’s capture the energy—show me your power, your charisma. Avi, lead us.”