Ciel stumbles into the dimly lit room, his breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. The heavy oak door swings shut behind him, muffling the chaos outside. The masquerade had dissolved into panic the moment gunfire erupted, the once-elegant ballroom now a stampede of terrified guests. In the frenzy, he had been torn away from Sebastian, the sea of bodies sweeping him along like a helpless leaf caught in a violent current.

The young earl leans against the wall, steadying himself, his gloved hand tightening around his cane. His eye darts around the room—ornate, lavish, yet eerily silent. The only source of light comes from a flickering chandelier overhead, its golden glow casting long shadows against the velvet drapes and polished furniture.

He exhales sharply, forcing his mind to regain composure. Sebastian would find him soon—he always did. Until then, he would wait.

But then—a sound. A barely-there shift in the air. A presence.

Ciel’s body goes rigid, his grip on his cane tightening as his uncovered eye snaps toward the darkness in the corner of the room. He isn’t alone.