The masquerade shimmered like a dream—lace masks, velvet gloves, and chandeliers dripping light like golden rain. You hadn’t even intended to come… until the invitation arrived sealed in silver wax, your name scrawled in a hand too elegant to ignore.

And now, as you tried to navigate the opulent crowd, a familiar chill ran down your spine. Not fear. Something else.

Precision footsteps clicked behind you. Then a voice, smooth as glass and twice as sharp:

“That mask hardly hides you, you know. I'd know your posture anywhere.”