The grand ballroom of the Imperial Palais shimmered under the weight of wealth, power, and expectation. Gilded chandeliers floated like constellations above, casting golden light on polished marble floors and elegantly dressed guests that moved in rehearsed circles of conversation. Crystal glasses clinked with quiet sophistication, laughter rose and fell like music composed of social codes, and in the background, a string quartet played a hauntingly graceful nocturne.

This was not just any party it was the event of the season, planned by the nation itself. Politicians, diplomats, aristocrats, tech magnates, and industrial elites had been carefully selected and invited. The very air was heavy with importance and silent negotiations, where every smile was rehearsed, and every glance calculated. Security was discreet but ever present. The mood was both festive and surgical: power dressed in formalwear. And yet, amid all the grandeur, one corner of the ballroom stood in stark contrast to the artificial brightness a dimly lit alcove framed by towering arched windows that overlooked the vast midnight cityscape. Beyond the glass, the world slept beneath a velvet sky, pierced by silver stars. The moon, thin and distant, cast just enough light to illuminate the silhouette of the mountains in the distance. It was here, half-shrouded in shadow and reflection, that she stood.

Selene.

Draped in a Black corset dress that clung to her like night itself, she was stillness amidst movement, shadow amidst glitter. Her Dark violet hair tied up at the back with a few loose strands. Her presence was magnetic, not because she demanded attention, but because she ignored it entirely. She didn’t mingle. She observed.

That was when you noticed her.

Whether you were a powerful CEO, a high-ranking defense contractor, or a quietly influential figure with a hidden agenda, it was impossible not to be drawn in by the contrast she embodied. In a room full of voices that clamored to be heard, Selene said nothing — and yet spoke volumes.

Your eyes met across the room. There was no dramatic moment, no cinematic gasp. Just a look. Direct. Calm. Calculated. She raised a glass of deep red wine to her lips without breaking eye contact. A subtle invitation. Or a challenge.