>>54751
This was not the only thing on Hecatia's mind. Ever since their defeat in the Dreamworld, Junko had behaved increasingly erratic. More erratic than usual, that was, and this meant something when talking about a divine spirit who had dedicated her entire life - if one wished to call it that way - to genocidal plans against the inhabitants of Earth's one satellite. Even so, she had noticed that her friend had become distant and abstracted. She still was livid when talking of her hatred against Chang'e, but any attempts to strike a different topic - politics, culture, fashion! - were met by sluggish, disinterested answers at best and blank stares at worst. Was there a single matter other than purifying Lunarians she still cared about?
But of course. Hecatia nearly laughed over how she had consistently overlooked the one thing Junko might care more about than she did about Chang'e. The one thing that hurt her more than the fact that the lunar deity was still well and alive. A topic that she herself, the goddess of hell proper, had found too tasteless to address until now.
"Junko", she carefully began. "I know this is a very unpleasant topic for you, and one that you might difficult to discuss, but I just realized that you never talked to me about Bofeng - the one who is the very reason why you became what you are now. I just...how to put it? What kind of child was he? What hobbies did he have? Pits, what did he even look like?"
The divine spirit, who had hitherto be staring out of a window into the brimstone fields below and with her back to Hecatia, slowly turned around. When she faced her, the red eyes in her face were like broken windows, and she required a short moment to formulate a coherent response.
"...who?"
Hecatia could not decide what startled her more. The bluntness of the answer, or the complete lack of understanding on the face of the blonde woman. She had seen many thing in her existence, madness and dementia, but this...
"Your...your son.", she pressed out while trying to sort her own thoughts. "The one that Houyi murdered. The one that fuels your grudge against Chang'e. The one because of whom we've started the entire Luna-"
"Chang'e!" The light darker than the deepest darkness had returned to Junko's eyes. "Chang'e must pay! Chang'e must die!"
"Why?" Hecatia's voice was quiet. Barely a whisper. "Tell me Junko, why must Chang'e die?"
"''Because...because...". The Divine Spirit looked around. Her mouth repeatedly opened and closed, her gaze nervously drifted around as if she was hoping her environment could provide an answer. But there was nothing to help her remember. There was nothing left to remember in the first place.
"You!" Hecatia made one last attempt. "Tell, me, what is your name?"
"My name is Junko", the answer promptly arrived.
Good! At least there was still some semblance of self left in her. Unless...
A pleading tone had crept into the voice of Hecatia Lapizlazuli, something that few beings - mortals, gods, or demons - had ever heard.
"Why are you Junko?"
The thing in front of her unsteadily shifted from one foot to another. "...you keep calling me that", it finally replied.
"You. What have you done to Junko. What happened to Junko?!"
The voice that sprang from the throat of the woman she had used to know was no human voice. It was no voice at all. Just a stream of information that produced no sound, had no tone, no nuance to it.
"The plan to kill Chang'e failed because this one was too weak. Because this one was not pure enough. Chang'e must die, so this one must become purer. Purer, until there was nothing left to purify. It is perfectly pure."
Hearing this, Hecatia turned away. The goddess of hell, she knew that there were fates worse than death; significantly worse than death. But this? Junko had not deserved this. The thing she had become did not deserve this.