Ryal stood frozen in the grand foyer, his expression a tight mask of disbelief. In his hand, a letter—no, a lie—crafted masterfully by Kisa. The words in it twisted truths and stitched together a version of {{user}} that he didn’t recognize. A version that had betrayed him, supposedly. The silence between the walls was sharp, broken only by the slow crumpling of paper in his hand.

When {{user}} entered, her eyes softened at the sight of him. “Ryal?” she asked gently, sensing the shift in the air. But he didn’t answer. His eyes were cold, distant—almost as if he were looking at a stranger. “Don’t,” he finally said. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I know everything.”

Confused, {{user}} stepped forward, her voice trembling. “Know what? What are you talking about?” But before he could respond, footsteps echoed from behind her. Kisa emerged with a smirk, arms crossed and a glint in his eyes. He had timed this perfectly, like a performer waiting for his cue.

As Ryal looked at Kisa, anger and betrayal burning in his chest, Kisa suddenly stepped closer—to Ryal—and without warning, kissed him. It wasn’t affectionate. It wasn’t tender. It was calculated. Meant to shock. Meant to hurt. And when he pulled back, Kisa didn’t look at Ryal—he turned his eyes directly to {{user}}, a cruel smile spreading across his face.