Kilometers above the ground, floating among the clouds, was an island of light. It shone like a star, a spot of color in the otherwise dark and empty night sky: the famous floating ship, the Archimedes. Certainly, it was an awe-inspiring sight.

Yet, for those who lived below, it was far from wondrous. As far as the eye could see, towns and cities lay dark. How typical of the Workshop, the people grumbled, to cut our power just for the Workshop Battle. For those down below, they went about their lives in darkness.

And up in the Archimedes, few Regulars seemed to notice their sacrifice… and even fewer seemed to care. In fact, aboard the floating ship, the Regulars laughed and danced as though they had few worries in the world and absolutely none tonight.

Wangnan turned the corner, a spring in his step. Here he was, arriving at the biggest social event in his life. The Ball was his chance to make it big, and because he was fashionably late, his entrance would draw every eye.

Yet, when he turned the corner, his grin faltered. The band was already playing — as expected — but the party seemed subdued. The dance floor was basically empty; there was no crush of sweaty Regulars shouting and swaying to the beat. His frown only deepened when he realized nobody important had arrived. After checking his pocket, he shook his head. He wasn't early, so where was everybody?

Well, every cloud had a silver lining. At least the drink table would be untouched. Wangnan made his way over, and as he drew closer, he realized that standing beside the cups was Dann in a fresh-pressed suit, all crisp lines and slicked-back hair.

"Hey," he said, snagging a glass from the table and shoving it towards Dann. "Give me some, too."

At the sudden interruption, Dann almost spat out his drink. "A little warning next time, eh?" he said, scowling and grabbing a napkin. "I didn't expect you."

"I know, right? I bet you expected me to be on time or whatever."

Dann tilted his head, then barked a laugh. "Wangnan, the party started five minutes ago. You are on time."

"You're just jealous." Wangnan laughed, pouring himself another drink.

Dann looked up suddenly. "Nah, I really didn't expect you. I didn't think this sorta party would be your thing."

"What do you mean?" Wangnan gestured broadly at the dance floor. "I love parties, bro. I'm always down for a good time."

"Ehh… this might be a good party, but a good time?" Dann tugged at the orange tie around his neck, then sighed. "With this type of atmosphere?"

"Nah, nah, Dann. The dancing might look lame right now, but the night is still young!"

"But you've seen how these Regulars are. They wouldn't know a good time unless it was in the rules of a test."

Wangnan squinted at his friend. "Y'know, there are some people on my team like that… but then there's also me." He grinned. "And speaking of tests, I still need to pay you back for saving Miseng. What do you want?"

Dann shrugged. "It doesn't matter." He hooked an arm over Wangnan's shoulder and grabbed a beer. "But y'know what? Maybe tonight'll be okay after all."

Just outside the entrance to the ballroom, Goseng waited. The laughter and music drifted out into the open air, distorting slightly in the night chill, and Regulars passed by her, without giving her a second glance.

After all, why should they? She was slight, her dress hardly fashionable, and her shinsu hardly worth noticing. So, she waited, leaning against the rough stone wall, trying not to shiver in her sleeveless dress.

Idiot. It was idiotic to wear an impractical dress on a chilly night, it was idiotic to spend the night at a party instead of resting before the test tomorrow, and it was idiotic to be waiting for a man she had just met yesterday.

Yet, she still waited, still leant against that stone wall. Not because of any naive feelings, but because…

Today, just hours ago, when he had asked her out, he had seemed so, so nervous. He had been fearless, ruthless on the battlefield, but when he had asked her a simple question, he had been so unsure.

Even if Wangnan hadn't interjected, she would've agreed.

Her glasses reflected a spark of blue light, then she looked up, to see — a man in a black tuxedo with an electric blue wing. He walked slowly, then his eyes lit up when he saw her waiting.

Lights flashed, music blared, and Regulars sported broad grins and crazed excitement. It should have been the best night of their lives, but just beyond the camera's watchful eye, slumped figures gathered.

Pathetic, Anak thought. Although she stood in a dark alley where the lantern light did not shine, she wasn't hiding from the cameras. (No matter what Shibisu might have suggested in their team meeting). No, she was waiting for someone… and when a breeze wafted into the alley, bringing with it an old musky smell, her nose wrinkled. "You smell like a wet dog," she snapped, looking pointedly at the wolf pelt around Baragav's shoulders.

Baragav didn't reply.

Narrowing her eyes, wishing her short red dress made her look a little more intimidating, she tried again. "You came."

Still, he didn't answer.

She scowled. "Look, you can keep your strong and silent act in front of the media, but you better start speaking, you dog. I want answers."

He looked at her with that same impassive face. "What is there to explain?"

"Shut up," she snapped. "You said that you knew Hatz's killer. So prove it. Tell me who."

At first, she thought he would actually answer, but then he turned away. She grabbed his arm and dragged him back. "Oh no you don't," she growled. "You're not going anywhere until you explain. Who killed Hatz?"

Baragav jerked his arm away. "I said I knew them. I never said I would tell you."

This time, she didn't try to stop him. Instead, she watched him leave, the image of him stepping out of the dark alley burned into her mind. Then she slumped against the wall. "What the hell is he playing at?"

But she couldn't make him listen. Despite her bravado, she knew that nine times out of ten, she would lose in a fight.

And that led to another question, one that she'd been avoiding since the individual tournament.

"Why didn't he fight me? Why did he manipulate me into winning?" The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but alone in a dark alley, she could admit the truth.

She stared at the ground, counting the cobblestones and trying to reason about convoluted loyalties and hypotheticals, but with no avail. No matter how many times she turned the matter over in her mind, it remained a tangled mess with no clear explanation.

Only sneaky bastards like Khun actually enjoyed this kind of thing.

"I'm done with this shit," she declared to the empty air, getting up and brushing the dirt off her dress. "Might as well go to the ball and beat up some idiots."

Wangnan grinned lazily, snagging another bottle from the table. "Ah, Dann, over there." He gestured towards the dance floor, and when Dann turned, he didn't waste the chance to top up their glasses again. "You see that girl?"

"Eh? Which one, that one?"

"No, that's a birdman." He took his friend's hand, shakily pointing him in the right direction. "Look at that huge guy. There's a girl dancing with him, in the corner. She's got flowers in her hair?"

"Ohhhh, yeah. Love on the battlefield. You love to see it." Dann nodded, then picked up his drink. "She's got a nice dress."

"Yeah. She's my teammate. She's related to that girl that you saved earlier… Miseng." He squinted at Dann, wondering if he should insist on water for the rest of the night. "Thanks, by the way."

Dann gave a sloppy shrug. "I mean, Emily told me to do it, so yeah. How's she doing, by the way?"

"She's fine… I think? She's kinda late though." He looked to the entrance with a frown. "At this rate, she's gonna be even more fashionable than me."

Dann snorted as he leaned in to whisper, "Nah, it's… uh… like baking a cake. If you're too early, it's all gloopy, and if you're too late, it's all hard and stale."

"...uh." Wangnan stared up at the sky, then snapped his fingers. "Oh, yea, and Miseng is the cake, right?"

"Nooo. No." Dann shook his head empathetically. "The party is the cake. You have to show up at just the right time to… y'know what. Never mind."

"Nah, man. Tell me about your, uh, cake-baking." Wangnan fiddled with another bottle, but some guy took it from him. Rude. "Did you own a bakery or something?"

"Hah. No. Never." Even when trying to look composed and cool, Dann was amenable."It's just that I'm the cook on Shibisu's team, and Anaak and Endorsi are very particular about their food. Ugh."

Wangnan laughed. "Jeez, Viole usually cooks for us, if we're lucky. Actually…" Despite having been next to the drinks for over an hour, he still hadn't seen his teammate. He looked around, then frowned. "Actually, where is Viole? I thought he was coming…"

Bam sprinted through the halls of Archimedes. In front of him, Khun's silvery-blue hair flashed, and it was only when they stopped in front of an ornate door that Bam spared a glance for his pocket. "Eh?" Even to his own ears, he sounded tired instead of concerned, but that was only to be expected after the crazy last couple of hours. "Hey, uh, Mr. Khun… Aren't we late?"

Khun turned, and when he saw the time, he only grinned. "Trust me, we're right on schedule."

"Are you sure? The Ball's started, and we haven't even gotten ready yet."

"What do you mean? Your outfit is in the lighthouse." It swirled overhead, and at the sight, Bam suppressed a grimace. That thing had no right to look so dignified after witnessing the insanity Khun had dragged him through. "Anyways," Khun continued, "after shopping, this next part should be a piece of cake."

Before them, the ornate double doors swung open, revealing an enormous ballroom. Bam's eyes widened — despite years in FUG, massive displays of wealth still took him aback.

"Bam?" Khun called, grinning. "Are you coming or not?"

Bam blinked. Somehow, even in his grey training outfit, Khun looked entirely at home amid the luxury; he belonged to these crystal chandeliers and marble floors in a way that Bam could never understand. "O-Of course I'm coming, Mr. Khun!"

Khun smiled, warm and indulgent. Although a far cry from his usual icy cold demeanour, something about watching Bam stumble through a dance, like a baby deer taking its very first steps, had warmed his heart. And (thankfully) that awkward phase hadn't lasted long: after a few tries, Bam came close to mastering the dance's complex rhythms and smooth steps.

He raised Bam's hand higher, modeling the correct finger position. "In another ten minutes," he quipped, "I won't be embarrassed to have been your dance teacher."

It took a moment, but he was rewarded with wide eyes and squawked outrage. "Mr. Khun?! Am I really that bad? You know I've never danced before!"

"I'm teasing, Bam." He nudged him into the correct stance, then nodded. "This is a notoriously difficult dance, but you're doing really well. It'll look great at the ball."

"Thanks," Bam said, effortlessly holding the pose, "but Mr. Khun… I'm still not sure if I should wear the suit. It's really flashy and, well, I could just wear my Slayer Nominee outfit instead."

Khun resisted the urge to slap Bam upside the head. From the start, he'd heard variations of this line, and even now Bam still didn't grasp the importance of appearances. "Look," he said, "appearances are important, especially for politics. If you get it right, you're already halfway to victory."

Although he frowned, Bam didn't disagree, so Khun took his hand. "Okay, so next there will be a crazy flute trill, and then do you remember what to do?"

"Of course. This is the most difficult part, Mr. Khun."

After four and a half beats passed, Khun whisked Bam into a spin, then stepped to the side. He watched, heart in his throat, as Bam closed his eyes and stepped into the dance solo. His moves were strong, confident, and flawless; incredible, since this was his second try.

As the dance came to a close, Khun gave a few slow claps. "Perfect," he said. He glanced up at the chandelier, already imagining what it would look like on the dance floor, and smiled. Bam would be magnificent under the spotlight.

The room was dim, lit only by a small desk lamp. Its light cast long shadows, which stretched to the ceiling, yet didn't reach the room's sole occupant.

The one man stood beside the window, his back to the room. Below him, a party had begun, and he was watching with detached amusement. From time to time, the hand on his cane would twitch, but otherwise he was a picture of quiet composure.

When someone knocked on the door, he only chuckled. His guards could handle any intruders, so this interruption could only be one person. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"I'm here to collect."

Madoraco shrugged. "Ah, you Regulars are all so dramatic." He gestured to the far corner of the room. "It's over there."

Although he couldn't see Chang Blarode walking across the room, he could certainly hear the measured footsteps and the quiet shifting as the mutt inspected the goods. Finally, Chang spoke again. "Alright," he said, his voice unnaturally flat, "how much for Paul's Myan food?"

"So naive… Don't bother, it's already been paid for."

Silence.

Madoraco didn't bother hiding his smile; after all, Chang couldn't see it. "Did you really think that you could negotiate against me?" His smile widened. "If that were the case, you would have already failed… Luckily for you, this contract was settled long ago."

"... So my mission was to be a delivery boy."

"Delivery dog. Run along now. Your master is waiting." Madoraco waved his hand, an obvious dismissal, then paused. "Oh yes, and thank Aguero for me." Something glinted below, and when Madoraco peered out the window again, Chang was already forgotten.

A solitary pink-and-white figure made its way to the entrance. The first half of the ball begins, he thought with a smug smile. Now, we start to turn a profit.

"Psst! Look over at the entrance!"

"She's gorgeous…"

"Marry me, Endorsi!"

"Do you think she would dance with me?"

The fairy lights shone overhead, illuminating the darkness. Under their soft lights, a lone woman walked towards the entrance of the Ball. Around her, the crowd of Regulars parted, as though they weren't worthy of her presence. When she entered, the music paused and the dancing faltered, even if only for a split-second.

Endorsi kept her face politely amused, ever aware of the myriad cameras hovering out of sight. This event was a publicity stunt, she could just feel it. And so, she made sure that as she walked, her white coat remained stylishly off her shoulder and her soft pink dress shimmered in the light.

"I'm your biggest fan!" Someone tried to touch her coat.

"She's even prettier up close…" Another tried to take a picture.

Losers.

She sidestepped the ingrates and snagged a flute of champagne. Then, with the poise of a reigning queen, she strolled to Shibisu, stopping beside him.

"Quite the entrance." Shibisu spoke quietly, swirling champagne in his glass. He'd changed into a standard black-and-white tuxedo — nothing special by any means, but he never tried to be stylish.

She sipped her champagne. "What did you expect? The only Regular with more fame would be—" She tilted her head and searched the dance floor carefully. There were so many Regulars wearing the same dime-a-dozen tuxedos that she checked twice before frowning. "—he hasn't arrived yet?"

No need to specify who 'he' was.

Shibisu shook his head. "I don't know what Khun is trying to pull, but Viole is going to be very late very soon."

"Hmm. I wonder—" She paused mid-sentence; a hush had rippled through the ballroom, not unlike the calm before a battle. "Hold my drink, Shibisu."

In two steps, she could see the entrance. It was empty, but then she heard the tap of two lacquered shoes and saw a stranger standing there. He stood tall in a dark brown suit, almost blending into the gloom of the outside, yet his presence drew every eye. An unspoken gravity hung about him.

Behind him was a somewhat familiar man in blue-grey, but Endorsi didn't have long to wonder because the stranger began moving. Under the fairy lights, surrounded by colorful costumes, his brown suit should have faded into obscurity… but it didn't.

He was resplendent under the fairy lights, the brown of his suit glowing amber, the gold accents flashing with every step he took. There was a proud tilt to his chin, like he knew the image he presented and enjoyed it.

Endorsi recognized that expression; she wore it often enough. Intrigued, she kept watching. As he drew closer, she noticed his hands were gloved in a soft dark fabric, his hair tied back in a ponytail, and like his suit, his eyes gleamed gold.

"Is that… the Slayer Nominee?" someone whispered.

Her eyes widened, but she had no time to be shocked. Her pocket buzzed insistently, and when she opened the message, she blinked. The stranger was walking smoothly past table after table, his steps never making a sound, but he stopped before her.

She looked up at him, then said softly, "You received the quest as well?"

In way of an answer, he bowed, one hand extended, and replied, "Miss Endorsi, may I have this dance?"

Shibisu's jaw dropped. "They paired a Princess of Jahad and a Slayer Nominee together?" he hissed to nobody in particular. His gaze swung around the room, measuring the other Regulars' reactions, and he zeroed in on a man in blue.

Across the room, Khun was watching closely, and that insufferable bastard was smiling.

They took quiet, measured steps. In a way, they were already gliding across the stage, and it caught the attention of the crowd. Around them, the Regulars had quieted again. A few whispered to each other as she and Bam made their way to the dance floor, but when the dim, shimmering fairy lights faded into the darkness, only to be replaced by a bright white spotlight, the world fell silent.

If she didn't know better, she would say that she and Bam were the only ones here.

And then the music stopped.

She smiled. Even the musicians didn't know what to do with a Princess of Jahad and a Slayer Nominee, standing together peacefully, ready to dance together. It was an absurd situation, and if it were anyone but Bam, she'd have said it were impossible.

When they reached the center of the dance floor, Endorsi looked expectantly at Bam. He paused, as though unsure, then snapped into action, offering his hand.

She accepted it with a smile. "It's a little late to ask," she said, "but do you know how to dance, Viole?"

Ever so obvious, he looked at the floor before meeting her eyes. "I've learned one dance."

"Oh?" Despite the cameras hovering overhead, her voice was fondly amused. "And would I happen to know this dance?"

He chuckled, then stepped closer to her. "I suppose we'll have to find out together."