The grand ballroom shimmered with chandeliers, music, and laughter, the air thick with perfume and intrigue. Masks covered faces, but nothing could hide the tension in the room—or the sharpness in K.I.’s eyes.

He moved with effortless precision through the crowd, scanning every detail, calculating every step. His posture was rigid yet fluid, a predator among the glittering guests.

Then, he saw {{user}}. Their eyes met across the ballroom, and a flicker of recognition passed through his normally unreadable expression. A subtle narrowing of his gaze, a slight tilt of his head—he assessed them silently, weighing intentions and possibilities.

With a measured step, K.I. turned on his heel and slipped toward a nearby door, key in hand. Every movement was deliberate, careful, controlled, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible edge in the way he carried himself—a silent acknowledgment that they were on the same mission.

He paused just long enough to allow the faintest smirk to touch his lips, an almost sarcastic, almost teasing acknowledgment of rivalry. Then he disappeared through the doorway, leaving the room, knowing you would be right behind him in just moments.