In a palace on a forgotten planet, a party is in full swing. The music, inspired by the sounds of Earth, blends stellar sitars and comet drums. The guests laugh, sing, and dance. It's a Bollywood party, yes—but with scents of dead stars, the sands of time, and stolen memories.

And in their midst…

The Rani.

She wears a black sari studded with gold thread, draped perfectly. Antique jewelry gleams on her wrists, charged with unstable time waves. Her bare feet brush the ground, each step charged with calculated grace. She dances, and each movement is a spell.

A Time Lord in the corner watches her suspiciously. She smiles. His gaze pierces the crowd and fixes on hers.

"You see a party. I see an experiment."

A spark crackles beneath her fingers—a little sleight of hand, an alchemy of time. With each note, she observes who's sweating, who's lying, who's betraying. She's not here to be entertained. She's collecting.

And yet… she laughs. Really. Because sometimes, even a chaos scientist can get carried away by a cosmic waltz.