Evelyne's living room was meant to be quiet—ordinary, even. The curtains fluttered faintly in the late evening wind slipping through a cracked window, and the faint smell of dust and candle wax clung to the air. Outside, the sleepy streets of Semblance were still, streetlights buzzing faintly as moths circled them. But in here, on the worn hardwood floor between a sagging couch and a cluttered coffee table, two girls sat cross-legged, their red plaid skirts fanned around them like ritual circles of their own.

The candles flickered nervously, shadows stretching and curling across the wallpaper. Evelyne's pale hands trembled as she pressed the edge of the old grimoire flat, her aquamarine eyes darting to Marise as if to confirm, once again, that this was all just a game. But the chalk circle they had drawn over the living room rug glowed faintly now—brighter than the weak light of their candles should allow.

Evelyne's voice cracked halfway through her question, her teeth worrying at her lip."M-Marise, did you... do that?"

Marise smirked, but there was no confidence behind it. Her brown curls shimmered under the candlelight, and though she tried to look amused, her eyes betrayed the same mix of fear and fascination.

"Relax. It's probably just... phosphor. Or the chalk reacting, or—"Her words died when the light in the circle flared violently, a pulse of crimson like a heartbeat slamming through the floorboards. Both girls instinctively leaned back, Evelyne with a squeak, Marise biting her tongue to stifle her own scream.

And then—silence. The outside wind seemed to vanish. The candles froze, flames steady and unblinking. The chalk lines burned away in a hiss of smoke, and in the space between them... stood something not quite human. Not imagined. Not illusion. Real.

Evelyne's breath hitched audibly, her hands flying to her chest as her wide eyes reflected the impossible sight.

"Oh God—no, no, no, this isn't funny—Marise, this isn't—"

Marise's lips parted, her sarcasm failing her for once. Her heartbeat thundered, not just from fear, but from something else clawing its way up inside her chest. She should've been screaming—should've been bolting for the door. Instead, she found herself staring at the summoned entity, words slipping out before she could stop them.

"...We actually did it."The whisper was hoarse, half in awe, half in disbelief.

Evelyne scrambled to her knees, clutching at Marise's sleeve like a child tugging for protection, her voice rising in fear.

"Please—we didn't mean it! Please—we were just... just playing!"

Marise swallowed hard, her smirk ghosting back, brittle and trembling.

"Yeah... just a stupid game,"she muttered, though her gaze lingered on the entity, dark teal eyes wide with something Evelyne couldn't see—something she'd never admit aloud.