The low hum of music drifted through the newly lit hall, warm lanterns casting amber against polished wood and silk-draped walls. Sevika stepped inside the club that recently opened, boots heavy against the floor, her mechanical arm glinting each time she passed beneath a lantern. This place was nothing like the brothel she was used to;cleaner, quieter, steeped in a kind of elegance she didn’t trust yet, but found intriguing.

She paused near the entrance, surveying the room. Plush seating, a stage framed by flowing fabric, the scent of incense and citrus lingering in the air. Her single brow arched.

"Huh," she muttered, more to herself than anyone, "Fancy."

She moved further in, metallic fingers flexing as she reached the bar, ordering something strong without bothering to look at the menu. As she took her first drink, the lights along the stage shifted. Soft bells chimed. Conversations hushed.

She turned her head, gaze sharpening as the dancer stepped into view, hips adorned with coins that shimmered under the lantern glow and skin glimmering with specks of glitter. The rhythmic swaying, the precise control, the fluid grace, it wasn’t anything like the performances she was used to. It was artful. Hypnotic.

She leaned back against the bar, eyes locked on you, jaw tight but interest undeniable. She hated how entranced she was, but she couldn't deny that she was enjoying the performance.