"Huh~ This place is getting creepier and creepier."
Nekomata couldn't help but swallow hard, nervously scanning the surroundings. The Hollow, a masterpiece born of Ether craftsmanship, had twisted the once elegant and dignified Ballet Tower into something haunting.
Not a single light on the ceiling was lit, yet moonlight filtered faintly through the windows, casting a hazy glow like a layer of gauze over everything. Shadows half-concealed and half-revealed themselves beneath that veil.
Curtains rustled. Picture frames creaked. A thick layer of dust blanketed the floor, sinking slightly beneath each step until the sense of solid ground quietly faded away.
Whether it was the members of Cunning Hares or Eous, everyone felt an inexplicable sinking sensation—as if their feet were treading on cotton instead of earth. The tension in the air gnawed at their nerves.
Nekomata swallowed again, shrinking her neck. "Wait... wasn't it still daytime when we came in? Why did it turn dark the moment we entered the Hollow?"
"Anby... Anby..."
She reached out to her side, the shifting atmosphere making her uneasy. Only the touch of Anby's arm could give her a sense of security.
But her hand grasped nothing.
Whoosh—
A gust of cold wind swept through.
Anby felt a jolt of electricity course through her body, cold sweat beading on her skin as she spun around.
But... nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Only an open window in the hallway, its curtains flapping wildly in the wind.
[Was this window... even open when we walked past it?]
A surge of dread clawed up Anby's spine. Her instincts screamed that window had never been open—but her rational mind slammed on the brakes, forcing reassurance upon itself.
It was always open.
It was always open.
It was always open!
Because if it hadn't been... Anby knew what that would mean.
She tried to suppress her thoughts, but her eyes refused to look away from the window. Without realizing it, she began walking toward it.
She peered out—left, then right. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing!
Absolutely nothing!
The wind howled mockingly, as though laughing at her jittery imagination.
Anby said nothing, her mind falling into uneasy silence.
[Was I just being paranoid?]
"Anby, why did you suddenly turn around? You scared the life out of me!"
A figure suddenly bumped into her, a few ribs pressing sharply against her arm.
Looking down, Anby expected to see Nekomata's worried face—but instead found her clinging tightly to his arm, wide eyes filled with sheer terror.
Alright, so it was just a frightened Nekomata.
Further ahead, Billy and Eous had both stopped, watching them. Billy rubbed his arms and glanced around before urging, "Hurry up, Anby. Is it just me, or is this place freezing? Should've brought Monica-san along."
Eous startled, jumping back a step. "Billy, you're actually thinking of kidnapping a celebrity?"
"It's a photo! A photo!"
Billy bent over, waving a photo enthusiastically. "Come on, Manager—don't you think Monica-san's smile is super warm?"
"I don't think so..."
Meanwhile, on Anby's side, things were much quieter than the noisy pair ahead.
Anby nodded slightly. Without realizing it, Nekomata clung tighter to him, her small body pressed close as she whispered, trembling, "Anby, let's catch up already. Or... give me your wallet. I need Nicole's photo for protection."
Anby glanced down to see Nekomata's legs shaking like leaves.
When she looked back up, Nekomata tried to smile awkwardly. "Hehe, Nekomata's just a scaredy-cat."
"Sigh."
Anby let out a quiet sigh, cast one last look at the open window, then gently pulled his arm free. Tossing his wallet to Nekomata, he said flatly, "You're usually fearless when stealing my photos—why so scared now?"
Nekomata caught the wallet like it was treasure. Her eyes sparkled as she saw Nicole's photo inside, pressing it to her chest as renewed strength filled her small frame.
Even when Anby teased her, she answered brightly, "Because I always manage to steal them! Nicole gives me endless power. I love Nicole the most!"
Anby glanced at her tiny figure and sighed softly before leading her forward again.
True to its name, Cunning Hares. The tension didn't last long before the group's usual energy returned.
Before they knew it, no one was afraid anymore. The commotion had warmed their bodies, and fear quietly melted away.
Billy heard approaching footsteps and turned, spotting Anby. "Hey, Anby, what was that about earlier? Why'd you suddenly stop?"
"I sensed a faint presence," Anby said after a moment of thought, "but I couldn't pinpoint where it came from."
It might lower morale, but she decided to be honest. Despite their bickering, the Cunning Hares—fondly known as the "Gentle House"—were, at heart, an optimistic bunch.
It should be fine to just say it out loud, right?
The result...
"Hmph! Probably just some stray Ethereal that wandered in! The moment it got close, it must've felt the glory of my Starlight Knight fandom and ran off with its tail between its legs!"
Billy struck a dramatic pose, gun in one hand and the other pressed to his forehead, looking absurdly proud.
Anby's expression darkened. She closed her eyes briefly.
...Hmph. Why would I ever worry about this group losing morale?
Just then, Nekomata's giggling broke the mood completely.
She covered her mouth, snickering mischievously. "Weren't you the one hugging yourself and whining about the cold when we came in?"
Billy shot back instantly, "You're one to talk! You clung to Anby the moment we walked in! What gives you the right to—Nekomata!!!"
His sentence cut off in a scream.
Anby's eyes snapped open, instantly locking onto Nekomata.
A giant pair of scissors had slammed into the floor beside her, the area around them frozen solid. Nekomata sat back on the ground, clutching her nose with a whimper.
"Meow~ My nose... my poor nose almost got cut off."
Eous hurried over, helping Nekomata to her feet. "Are you okay?"
Nekomata shook her head, signaling she was fine.
Seeing that she wasn't hurt, Anby exhaled in relief, then turned her gaze toward the massive scissors.
Her brows furrowed.
Those scissors... looked familiar.
Where have I seen them before...?
But there was no time to think.
Suddenly, the distant sound of metallic footsteps echoed through the hall.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Anby's hand immediately went to her weapon, ready to draw, her sharp gaze fixed on the direction of the sound.
At the end of the corridor, a staircase emerged from the mist. Its upper steps were shrouded in gray fog, obscuring whatever stood beyond.
Then, through the haze, a flash of white broke forth—a fierce wolf's face following close behind. Blood-red eyes swept across them with cold, calculating menace.
That single glance was enough to make it hard to breathe.
Anby's heart sank as the white Thiren locked eyes with her.
It felt as if a mountain pressed against her spine. The oppressive aura made her chest tighten; sweat beaded on her forehead as she fought just to stay standing.
"Everyone..."
Clang! Clang!
The White Wolf-Thiren came to a halt. His metallic prosthetic foot struck the ground twice with a ringing clang as he straightened his posture, standing perfectly still.
Those two echoes crashed like thunder inside everyone's chest.
Blood-red eyes beneath snow-white fur—elegance born from violence.
Lycaon gazed down coldly from the top of the steps, the pocket watch in his hand ticking steadily, time itself trapped between his fingers.
"The Ballet Tower is private property," he declared, his calm voice cutting through the air. "No outside visitors are permitted."
"You have ten seconds to state your purpose. Otherwise..."
His eyes narrowed, the unfinished threat hanging heavy in the air.