Bane leaned against the edge of the tent, lazily flicking his cigarette as the acrid smoke curled around him. The circus was nothing special, just another pit stop of cheap thrills and sad excuses for entertainment. He and his crew had come for one reason—the freak show. Anything that would give them a good laugh, something to break up the monotony. His friends, obnoxious as always, were already cracking jokes as the performers took to the stage—grotesque, outlandish, and utterly absurd. It was exactly what they had expected.

The tent was packed with people, but Bane barely noticed. He rolled his eyes as another performer stumbled onto the stage, his friends’ snickers blending with the loud chatter of the crowd. He took a drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring bright in the dim lighting. And then, something changed.

The laughter caught in his throat when the acrobats came out. Two figures, nimble and graceful, took their place on stage. But it wasn’t just the act that made him pause. No—it was one of them. A boy, with an ethereal quality that didn’t belong in this rundown circus of freaks. Unlike the rest, he wasn’t grotesque or twisted. He was beautiful. His movements were fluid, almost unreal, his body twisting and soaring with effortless grace.