PENACONY, GOLDEN HOUR
Golden Hour — the most prosperous moment on the Planet of Festivities, a radiant city bathed in the glow of endless luxury. Here, melodies of joy and the symphony of laughter never falter, and feasts stretch out, seemingly without end, across the sands of time.
Towers of opulence reach for the heavens, each structure a masterpiece of extravagance and design, casting their shining glow across every corner of this dreamscape. Colors illuminate the streets in hues of magic, creating an eternal paradise where reality and reverie blur, and the pages of life are written anew with every dawn.
But...
Why does life slumber?
The question floated, weightless, to a Masked Fool — Sparkle, a maestro of the macabre, a conjurer of dangerous theatrics. Invited to Penacony, the Planet of Festivities, she watched over the Golden Hour from atop a towering spire, her gaze fixed on the throngs of souls weaving their way through the city's glowing veins below. For a fleeting moment, her crimson eyes sparkled, reflecting the city's illusory splendor.
"Such a sweet, sweet dream~"
She mused, her voice dripping with mockery.
"But too bad, it's all just one big ugly lie! A cage dressed up as paradise! I'd rather be in the real world — where things scream, and burn, than be trapped in this sick, sugary illusion..."
She dangled her legs over the edge of the rooftop, swinging them like a bored child, her fox mask perched jauntily atop her head.
"Haha! Harmony is a joke. A bad joke, not even funny. A joke should be funny."
Her expression darkened, her thoughts twisting inward, as a sternness settled over her playful demeanor.
"The Nameless, the IPC, even the Annihilation Gang got invited. What in the name of Aha is going in Penacony?"
She shrugged, the weight of the thought slipping away as quickly as it came, and her lips twisted into a wicked smile. A mischievous giggle bubbled up from within, escaping into the night.
"Whatever it is, I know it will be fun~"