Rinoa was seated on a mahogany sofa with ivory-colored upholstery that was patterned with oversized pink roses. She could have sworn those flowers were following her everywhere. After resolving taking one last sip, she placed her wine glass on the rounded marble coffee table in front of her. She did not know how poor her tolerance for wine was until it was too late; not having the luxury of wine for so many years had made both the taste and its effects on her an unfamiliar assault on her body. The parlor she was in was quiet, if not for the muffled sound of music and laughter sneaking in from behind the large doors. Her silver-haired dance partner was present, playing a seemingly disjointed melody on the grand piano as she spoke to him. As he played on the all too familiar instrument, he stared out the dark open window where he could silently observe Rinoa's reflection for her reactions.

"Tell me about this Leonhart you were looking for." He asked in a smooth, almost uncaring voice while continuing to play random chords.

Rinoa pleasantly laughed, "He's young, abrasive, and very private. Nothing like the gentleman you are, kind sir…"

He grinned knowingly as he watched her.

"…at least that's what he wants everyone to think. I know that he is truly a gentle and lonely soul." Rinoa said as she began to stare at the patterned carpet, dragging her slippers in circles. She was feeling slightly uncomfortable about telling such a man what she had never dared to anyone else before about Master Leonhart.

The grin faded and he stopped playing the piano. An expression of shock spread across his features, which were still obscured by his mask. "And how are you so sure of his character?" As grateful as he was for his mask, the slight quiver of anger in his voice betrayed the cool countenance.

Luckily for him, Rinoa was still fixated on the floor. "When I first came to know him, I had thought my life to be simply filled with a series of strange coincidences. I soon realized that he would often tease me and think that I was unaware of his intentions. I believed it must be his own way of showing appreciation for my dedication to him. And so, I felt it best that I politely continue the charade for both his sake and my own."

The man gripped the piano seat with his ungloved fingers; he was so embarrassed and taken by surprise that it took all of his self control to form a reply without revealing himself. I've fooled the world for a century and yet… this woman who I own has been playing tricks with my mind the whole time? He idly traced an invisible line along the gold lettering etched onto the piano in order to look as though he wasn't unaffected by her words by any means. "Why would you want to dance with such a man? His fortune, perhaps?"

"Oh, no. Of course not!" Rinoa laughed again, "I just wanted to forget who I was and for him to forget who he was. If only for a moment, I wanted him to notice me as a woman."

Turning to face her, the silver haired man stared long and hard at Rinoa. I already have. You do not need all this to impress me.

"So you see, one might find my fantasy of meeting him here rather silly..." Rinoa looked up from the carpet and shyly smiled under his intense gaze, expecting some sort of consolation or remark. She was highly attracted towards him, but his reticence and the questions about another man suggested to her that he most likely did not feel the same.

Can you not see, Rinoa? I am your fantasy.

He didn't respond and Rinoa averted her gaze. "I must apologize for rambling on, it is far too easy to say everything on my mind when hiding behind a mask!"

I know.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Rinoa glanced at him, and then at the large grandfather clock across the room from them. "I believe I should leave… it is almost midnight." She nervously gathered her dress skirts and stood up, making her way towards the exit while taking care to walk around the elegant furniture decorating the room.

As she she neared the door she raised her head, and gasped in surprise. The man who was just seconds ago at the piano was now in between the door and herself. She looked back towards where he previously sat but his gentle voice cut through her thoughts, making her forget what had just happened, "…I had nothing to say."

He slowly lowered his head towards hers as she turned back towards him. Rinoa took a step back but he placed his hands on her bare shoulders to keep her from moving as he closed the distance between them, causing her adrenalin to rush. Rinoa closed her eyes as his face inched closer to hers. I don't even know his name. I don't even care. His lips gently brushed against hers for a moment and her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest. Rinoa recalled being kissed like this before but she was sure it was in a dream. This was real. She could smell his cologne, she could almost taste the wine that was in his breath, and she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Her eyes snapped back open when she realized he was breathing heavily against her neck. "Are you… all right, sir?" she asked unsurely.

Instead of answering her, the silver-haired man lowered his head even further towards the base of her neck. The grip on her shoulders became a painful and restricting one. "That hurts…please stop!" Rinoa managed to squeak out. She tried to loosen herself out but it was all for naught, the dress had already restricted most of her arm's movements. "Stop it!" In between her struggle to squirm away and his iron grip, the blue dress slipped even lower to one side and revealed one of her breasts, driving him over the edge. "Let go!" Rinoa felt something sharp on her neck and screamed in panic, kneeing him in the groin.

"I'm not one of those types of women!" Rinoa scolded and watched with a careful eye as he fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Pulling her dress back up and readjusting her hair, she stomped past him and out of the parlor. In all the confusion she had forgotten that she could have used some sort of magic and scolded herself for not knowing better.

The long, straight silver wig fell towards the floor revealing short light brown hair. The man growled in pain while clutching himself.

"Rinoa…"

Rinoa strode her way down the long crowded halls of the theatre, feeling more uncomfortable with every passing moment. She felt as though all the feathered and masked faces of richly dressed nobles were laughing at her naivety. She shivered and held herself as she made her way outside. Spotting the right carriage, she began to walk in its direction but felt herself compelled to look up towards the sky, for it was very dark.

That's strange. Where are the stars?

She looked towards the large moon, which slowly became obscured by a black cloud. Rinoa blinked her eyes and squinted as she watched the cloud form out of other, smaller clouds gathering towards it. Shaking her head she quickly walked the rest of the distance, putting up the illusion spell over Vincent and the carriage.

Vincent assisted her into the carriage and she was surprised to find Selphie and Ballari already inside. Selphie's face was obscured and it seemed she was crying. "What is the matter?" she asked. Ballari shook her head while patting Selphie's back, giving Rinoa a look that said 'not now'. Before Rinoa could ask anything, screams were heard outside and the large clock on the building across from the theatre struck midnight. Everyone inside the carriage looked towards one another and Rinoa peered outside the small window.

More screams were heard and Rinoa looked upwards. The clouds were in fact hundreds of winged monsters, which were now descending towards the theatre. Some continued to circle the surrounding buildings, and it seemed as though they were a murder of crows from a distance. Turning towards the entrance she saw dozens of people running out of the building, desperately clinging onto each other.

"Vincent! Get us out of here!"

"I am utterly famished." Quistis remarked as a man and woman in bloodied finery were trying to run past. The woman barely made her way across the dance floor before she was grabbed and bitten from behind, while the man was lifted into the air by a black-winged vampire who bit into his neck and then dropped him, allowing his body to fall two stories towards the floor. Quistis paid the atrocities no mind.

"Patience my love, where are your manners?" Seifer said with sarcasm. The two continued to dance even though the music had long stopped. Dozens of vampires, some winged and some not, were all over the theatre chasing people like cat and mouse.

Blood splattered across the walls and floors while more blood sprayed onto Quistis, as a nearby vampire was openly feasting on a young noble girl who gasped for help from her with her last breath. Quistis licked the blood from the side of her mouth. "I've had enough of these appetizers," she said in annoyance. "Let's go." She and Seifer then strode towards the dining halls as Quistis loudly announced to all the brood present, "Supper is served."

Leonhart managed to find Rycharde amidst the mess of screaming guests and shielded the old man as best as he could. A cackling female vampire that looked to be a Galbadian noble whom he barely recognized swooped down towards the two men, trying to grab at either one of them. In one trained motion, Leonhart drew out a small 3mm caliber percussion pistol from the inside of his jacket; it had ivory grips and the plated steel shone as he took aim. He aligned the front sight with the vampire's forehead and squeezed the trigger with his finger, shooting the demonic angel down.

"Good thing you came on time, I wanted to tell you that I killed Fuujin…" Rycharde said over the noise.

Leonhart looked back as the glass ceiling suddenly caved inwards with the weight of more vampires as they entered. They seemed to be heading towards the dining hall while a few strays chased down anyone unlucky to be in their path. He and Rycharde continued their run out of the building until one of them appeared right in their way, a young energetic male with brown hair sporting a cocky grin. Rycharde immediately raised his ebony walking stick. Shifting his weight, he swung the long stick in a diagonal upwards motion, tripping the young vampire with incredible momentum and force. Leonhart watched carefully to be sure the vampire took the full impact of the attack as it fell backwards.

"I know you hated dancing with her but isn't that a little extreme?" Leonhart finally replied, taking aim at another airborne attacker.

"She was one of them." Rycharde motioned with his head as they made their way outside, fending off vampires on the ground with each turn. The two seemed to be nearly equals in skill and ability despite the age gap.

"I see."

"She really was!" Rycharde turned back, taking in the sight of the wrecked theatre and the bodies strewn about it, "I had no idea the elysiums have gotten this bad..."

Leonhart avoided looking back at the theatre and held his pace. Ultimecia won't be able to hide our existence from the world any longer.