The fabric of Aether's cloak shifted as he turned, catching the ambient light in its carefully woven threads.
"What?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
Anna leaned forward, her eyes tracing the intricate pattern across his back.
"Your cape—there's a cross on it. It reminds me of the one at the church." Her fingers hovered just above the design, following its lines without touching. "It's striking, actually."
Aether followed her gaze to his shoulder, then recognition flickered. "Oh, that? Yeah, the church," he mused, adjusting one of the many straps on his outfit. "I've heard your dad talk about them. I see their symbol everywhere lately—"
He trailed off as he settled on the bed's edge, the mattress dipping under his weight.
Anna's eyes lit up. "Honestly, your Story Skill should've been 'Grand Designer' or 'Visionary Tailor'."
Aether grinned, fingers brushing the shimmering fabric. "Visionary Tailor? Bit flashy, even for me... but I'll take it." Anna nodded.
Anna gave the jacket one last appreciative glance. "Admiring time's over—Grand Bibliotheca awaits," she announced, smoothing her trousers.
Aether's demeanor lit up with excitement. He darted out of his room, practically flying to the window. Leaning out, his hair already tousled by the breeze, he grinned.
Anna watched him, noting the way his outfit moved. "It's like a mirage—cloudy, yet breezy."
Aether beamed. "Exactly! I mimicked a fabric from home. Wasn't sure it'd work, but—"
"Dad's waiting," Elara called, descending the stairs, her attire flowing with every step. "Last one there—"
Aether sailed past her before she finished, executing a perfect leap down the stairs before landing with impossible grace.
Elara blinked, then smirked. "You're insane. Or just living up to your name?"
"Maybe bo—" Aether started, but holograms flickered to life, casting an ethereal blue glow across the hall.
---
A girl appeared in the projection—barefoot, clad in the simplicity of a hospital gown. She didn't run so much as float. Her body twisted and spun with uncanny grace. A guard lunged, but she ducked, gown flaring like a cape as she slid under him, balanced with a hand on the floor.
Another guard charged. Her right hand flashed upward in a sharp, angular gesture: [I'm].
She ducked under his swinging arm, twisting low to the ground, her fingers flicking outward in a fluid curve: [escaping].
Two more guards appeared ahead. She spun on her heel, her left hand slicing horizontally through the air: [now].
The guards surged forward, but she leapt, her knees tucked to her chest. As she vaulted over their heads, her hands crossed in a final sharp sign, fingers flaring like an exclamation mark: [bye!].
Two more waited at the corridor's end. She dashed forward, then launched off the wall at an impossible angle. She landed behind them in a crouch, fingers dancing again. Overhead lights flickered. A cart tipped. Medical tools spilled across the floor. Guards slipped. She was gone in a blink—liquid motion bending the air around her.
"She's fast," Anna muttered, enlarging the hologram with a flick of her finger.
Her escape wasn't just flight—it was choreography. Rebellion etched in movement. Every leap, slide, and pivot rewrote the sterile corridor, reshaping it into her own stage.
Anna manipulated the footage, tracking her motion. "She's really something, isn't she?" Her fingers moved the hologram with ease.
Text scrolled beneath the image:
Prisoner Escaping: Containment Breach 1-2-A.
Below it, protocol jargon and retrieval procedures tangled into bureaucratic nonsense.
The girl's final leap froze in midair. Her pose echoed Aether's earlier jump—arms out, legs coiled, smile wide with freedom.
Anna rewound it, studying. Her grace was unnatural—like she moved by instruction from some unseen force. When she turned to the camera, her yellow eyes blazed, as if peering directly through the screen.
---
The scene resumed—from her point of view.
"Get down. Left," she murmured. Her glowing eyes scanned the hallway, data flowing across her vision—guards, layout, timing.
She smirked. "Care for a riddle?" She twisted out of the way of another guard. Her joints flexed far past human limits.
[Back]
Aether smirked and dismissed the hologram with a flick. "Enough of that, let's go," he called. He bolted through the mansion's ornate halls, skidding past Adelaide's doll room, pivoting sharply, and launching himself down the stair railing.
He blurred past doors and windows. Light shattered across the walls in diamond patterns. As he reached the grand foyer, the chandelier bathed him in gold.
"Yes!" he cried, jubilant, the sound echoing against the vaulted ceiling.
Behind him, Henri's voice rolled in—calm, amused, powerful: "It's going to be one hell of a day."
He strode through the doors after Aether, presence commanding without effort.
Henri's outfit radiated control. A black trench coat flowed like shadow, parting to reveal a crisp white shirt and charcoal tie. His slate-grey blazer was tailored to perfection, trousers pressed to a knife's edge, shoes shining with military precision. From his silver watch to the flawless pocket square, everything about him whispered: power lies in the details.
"It always is,"