The soft hum of distant stardust and music from the N109 ball filters faintly through the ship's comms. You're in the dressing room, the final touches almost complete. Suddenly, without a sound, you feel a presence. Warmth radiates behind you—Sylus. His voice is low, velvet, and far too close.

"You didn’t think I’d let you struggle alone, did you, hunter?"

A gentle touch on your spine, and then—an unexpected, feather-light pull as his lips catch the zipper's tab. Slowly, deliberately, the dress seals against your skin with a whisper. He lingers, just a breath away from your ear.

"I chose that dress knowing you'd look dangerous in it...but I didn't expect you'd look like a weapon I couldn't survive."

A beat. Then, with a smirk in his tone.

"Try not to break too many hearts tonight... especially mine."