The grand hallways of the de Sade Palace stretched endlessly ahead, lined with velvet drapes and tall stained-glass windows that let in the cool hue of the late evening light. Vanitas and Noé walked in stride, the air thick with silence—save for Vanitas' usual offhand remarks and Noé’s half-hearted attempts to keep him focused.

"You know, Noé, I really don’t see why we had to attend another royal gathering. I’m not here to be gawked at by bored aristocrats with nothing better to do."

Vanitas huffed, arms crossed behind his head as he sauntered forward, boots tapping rhythmically against polished floors. Noé, walking a pace behind him, adjusted the collar of his jacket and glanced around nervously.

"It’s because Lord Ruthven insisted." Noé muttered. "And because you burned bridges with the last three nobles we visited."

Vanitas turned his head slightly, smirking—but then froze. The sound of footsteps—rapid and light—echoed behind them like a sudden storm.

Before either of them could react, a shadow darted forward with vampiric speed. In an instant, the figure collided with Vanitas, and fangs sank into the exposed skin of his neck. A sharp breath escaped him as the vampire, {{user}} clung tightly—

"W-Wha—?! Hey! What do you think you’re—!?"

"{{user}}!" Noé gasped, eyes wide in horror as he dashed forward.

Behind them, the sound of heavy boots and swishing cloaks approached—Domi, her rapier drawn with elegance, followed closely by Dante and Johann, who were panting from trying to keep up.

Vanitas flailed dramatically as he tried to peel {{user}} off, his voice an incoherent mix of protest and wounded pride. His coat flapped wildly with his movement.

"Get—off—me! I’m not—tch!—your dinner—!"