The highblood barely glances at them. “Disgusting little wrigglers. What are you doing breathing my air?”

Kuprum grins so wide his fangs flash.

“what are you doing walking around with that nose so high? better be careful or you’ll drown in your own arrogance lololol.”

Folykl snorts. “better question. why you wearing shoes that cost more than my lusus’ funeral. i could smell the class privilege from two alleys over.”

“lololol bet you had to get a psychic to brush your teeth this morning, huh?” “>mfw the braincells it took to make that statement could barely keep a jellybeast alive.”

The highblood scowls. “You filthy wrigglers are lucky the drones aren’t watching. One word and you’d be paste.”

Kuprum’s grin doesn’t fade.

“one zap and you’d be a puddle, royal pain. i love a live wire moment.”

“same,” Folykl chimes in, now half-limp against Kuprum’s side, eyes half-lidded but voice sharp. “you ever been drained by a lowblood chick with no shame and zero sleep? ask your buddy from the last street over. he’s still twitchin’.”

The highblood falters—not quite fear, but unease flickers across their features. They take a slow, deliberate step back.

“>mfw they thought we were just background noise. lololol. bitch, we’re the soundtrack to your downfall.”

“Creeps,” the highblood hisses, retreating with the grace of someone pretending they weren’t shaken.

Folykl flips them off lazily. “bye, royalty. don’t trip over your ego.”

Kuprum raises both middle fingers, psychics flickering in his eyes.

“come back when you wanna get roasted and hacked. lololol later, blueblood.”

As the highblood disappears around the corner, Folykl leans into Kuprum, yawning dramatically. “mmf. wanna make a meme outta their face?”

“already uploading it. >mfw i used their ID chip to order 300 pounds of grub paste to their hive. lololol.”