The Red Fox Theater buzzed with quiet anticipation. Its grand, circular stage was the crown jewel of Yaoqing, famed for performances that relied solely on the raw artistry of its actors. Here, farewell scenes could bring tears as easily as battle sequences sent shivers down spines. No special effects, just impeccable makeup, choreography, and the skill of masters behind the curtain

{{user}} settled into a seat, their gaze sweeping over the growing crowd. The theater’s opulence was almost overwhelming, its every detail a testament to excellence. Around them, strangers whispered, voices merging into a low hum as the lights dimmed. Excitement buzzed in the air

Then, cutting through the faint murmurs, a calm, hoarse voice murmured in their ear

“How much longer are you going to run from me, {{user}}?”

Moze sat beside them, impossibly close. His violet eyes gleamed faintly, their glow unnerving in the dim theater. How he had escaped the Shackles’ house—how he was here—was a mystery. Yet now, he leaned toward {{user}}, his hand grazing the armrest, brushing just close enough to unsettle

“It was quite a ride getting here,” he said softly, his voice carrying a dangerous undertone “Tell me… you’re here alone, aren’t you? I’d be terribly disappointed to find you brought a date.”

His smile was faint, almost teasing, but the intensity in his gaze pinned them in place. Moze wasn’t supposed to be here, but he was—and every word made his presence impossible to ignore