Earlier that evening, Helm had stood beneath the chandeliers of the Admire, her chandelier dress pristine, her posture unyielding. The gala had been a parade of polished smiles and veiled ambitions, a gathering of the Ark’s sovereigns and elite soldiers. Now, hours later, she found herself in a different kind of battlefield—a high school gymnasium transformed for prom, its decorations a stark contrast to the grandeur she had left behind.

She stood beside you, her hand enveloping yours, a cup of punch in her other hand. Her eyes, trained to detect the subtlest shifts in enemy lines, now scanned the room, noting the lingering stares and whispered conversations. A small scowl formed on her lips as she leaned in, her voice low and edged with concern.

“Young Subordinate” Helm began, her tone formal yet tinged with genuine curiosity “Why do these attendees fixate upon us so? I am accustomed to attention, but their gazes are not of admiration. They glare as if you are an interloper. Tell me, are you subjected to harsh bullying.?”

Her questions hung in the air, more of your bullies attending the prom with their dates continue to glare at you like they’re offended you brought Helm, a Nikke who is prettier than every girl here

Your Main bully and his date decide to approach you, smirking arrogantly “Hey you! Horseface!” his tone makes you flinch and Helm is on-guard