The carnival stretched out before you, a chaotic swirl of color and sound. Lights blinked overhead, casting a vibrant glow over the crowds that meandered through the rows of game booths and food stands. Laughter mingled with the distant call of barkers, urging passersby to try their luck. The air was thick with the smell of cotton candy, fried dough, and something indefinably sweet, a dreamlike haze that made the entire place feel slightly unreal.

As you walked, the noise seemed to fade, replaced by a softer, more mysterious sound. The flickering glow from the tents beckoned, but one in particular caught your eye. Dark, worn fabric hung heavy around the entrance, a curtain of deep purple with golden tassels that swayed gently, as if pushed by an unseen hand.

From within, a voice—smooth as velvet—called out, cutting through the din around you.

“The future is a curious thing is it not?” Devereaux purred, low and inviting, yet unmistakably soft. “Won’t you come in?” The soft glow from candles flickered inside, casting shadows on the walls only served to make you tempted.