In BlueVail's East Hollow Ocean, all was calm.
A massive yacht, 100 meters in length, floated serenely on the water, its hull gleaming with a carbon-like plating that gave it an otherworldly shine.
At the bow of the yacht, two figures stood in silence.
Noah Valxin, the man at the pinnacle of High Society, gazed out at the ocean with a calculated intensity. A step behind him stood Reginald Hastings, the ever-loyal Head Butler of the Valxin household, his posture rigid and precise as ever.
Noah was dressed in formal black pants and a shirt, topped with a lab coat that lent him an air of professional detachment. Reginald, as ever, was clad in his butler uniform, the very picture of discipline.
Both were focused, their eyes locked on the waters below, as the experiment known as 'World Serpent's Kiss' was about to commence.
"Tron, proceed with only 1 picoliter." Noah's order fell.
