Marquis walked out with Kai, everyone even the gym teacher quieting as every gaze turned toward them. Whispers rose like a slow-building wave.
"Aren't they the too slack—"
Marquis's lips curved into a confident beam, but the scene before him began to blur. Instead of murmuring students, he saw a ballroom filled with aristocrats in finely tailored outfits, their faces polished with pride and suspicion. The illusion flickered as Kai tugged at his sleeve, grounding him.
"You got this," Kai whispered, his smile unwavering despite the intensity around them.
Marquis's gaze scanned the room—eyes like daggers, whispers that felt like screams. The air tasted metallic, thick with an almost primal hostility. The opulence was a mask; to Marquis, it felt like stepping into a bloodbath.
