There are only a few moments left until the "beginning"

Haha! I'm back! From dead!

They strolled leisurely down the mall corridor, where the neon lights of the storefronts were slowly giving way to the soft golden glow of sunset. Sunbeams slipped through the transparent glass insets in the ceiling – muted, yet unusually warm. The hue wasn't quite the orange of dusk, but rather a sugary pink... As if the very walls, floor, and air had been wrapped in a sticky yet cozy mystical haze.

— Seriously. — Kyoka still hadn't calmed down, recalling that store with the "slutty" clothing, — Who even wears that stuff? WHO wants to show off their body THAT much?

Chris let out a short laugh, tilting his head to the side when a far-too-explicit thought flashed through his mind: «You. Once you start wanting to spread your legs for me...». He immediately shook his head, trying to knock the horny illusion out of his skull, and after pulling a casual half-smile back onto his face, refocused on the conversation:

— It's just a fashion trend... — he raised his hand with an index finger up, trying to look all serious — ...called «look at me and my hourly rate»! — he snorted, letting his hand drop.

He spoke quietly, but he'd already noticed something strange about the light... It was subtle, yet definitely happening. The atmosphere had become thicker, warmer, like the air itself was stretching, viscous like syrup. Even the colors around them seemed more vivid and pleasing – with a sheen of dusty rose glitter clinging to surfaces.

«Something... odd. Like...», He inhaled deeply. «There's a weird smell...», he noted to himself. Sticky, almost untraceable, it had appeared out of nowhere and slowly diffused through the air. Unfamiliar, strangely intimate, luring. Chris felt a slight tension in his chest. Instinct prickled. «Warm, a bit sweet... almost musky... intimate... WAIT!»

He instinctively reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and looked at the screen. His heart skipped a beat.

«Seven minutes left... Damn it. Already? "Pink Sky" is close. Really close. And I almost MISSED IT!». Chris scolded himself, realizing he had nearly let the most important moment of his current life slip past while discussing slutwear. «Months of preparation... Enrolling in freaking UA where some villain – or worse, some half-baked hero – might smash my skull in… All just to forget THIS...?! …Okay, breathe. Where's that store again...», ending his little bout of self-flagellation, Chris now focused on more urgent matters.

He straightened up subtly, slowly scanning their surroundings without drawing Kyoka’s attention.

Intersection. First floor. Central atrium. To the left – entertainment area, to the right – food court. The shop he scoped out before was somewhere deeper, closer to the "narrow" boutiques. «So if we veer left and head slightly forward...» — he mentally plotted a path toward his "happy ending".

Without changing his expression, he gently altered their trajectory – no longer heading down the central aisle, but angling instead toward a quieter, dimmer side corridor. Kyoka, still wrapped up in the same, for some reason still-pressing, topic, didn't notice the shift and simply continued walking beside Chris, keeping up the conversation.

— Mhm. And the next "fashion trend" will be latex collars and whips... — She muttered, arms crossed over her chest. — Then eventually everyone will just be naked.

— Wouldn't be surprised... — Chris replied with a slight pause, still partially wrapped up in his calculations. — Though something leather, spiked, with cutouts... might actually suit you, you know... — he muttered absentmindedly, not fully aware of how that sounded.

Kyoka let out a raspy huff, stumbled over her own words, and immediately covered her now-bright-red face with her hand:

— W-what…? Y-you... A-are yOu an I-iDiOt or wHat?! — she burst out. — Wh-hat ar-r-re you e-even thinking about?! D-don't joKe l-like that! O-or I'll shove "something" "somewh-where" if you ever say stuff like t-that again!! — she raised her earphone jacks menacingly, shaking them like a pair of rattlesnake tails, her expression a mix of flustered and annoyed.

Chris, realizing what he'd just said, quickly tried to backpedal, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender.

— WOAH, Woah! Okay, okay! My bad. Just a mental image, sorry... It's just... You said it, and for some reason I immediately started thinking about it too vividly... Won't happen again. Sorry...

«Stay calm, dipshit! Keep the rhythm. Don't overdo it...»

The raging little fury seemed to accept his apology, lowering her jacks and exiting berserker-embarrassment mode.

— F-fine… And you're lucky I've g-gotten to know you a bit ****ay, or you'd be dead man, Kris Miller… — she turned away from Chris with mock irritation, but the theatrical nature of the gesture made it clear it wasn't all that serious. Though her face was still flushed, so the words had definitely struck a chord. Whether it was a good or bad one – that was hard to say.

Exhaling, Chris looked back up at the ceiling. The sunset had nearly drowned in pink. Even the floor seemed to glow with a warm hue. The space around them had become viscous… heavy… Like reality itself was holding its breath in anticipation. His inner voice shouted: «SOON! DON'T MISS YOUR CHANCE! OR YOU'LL BE DAMNED!»

Only a few steps remained to the storefront. They turned into the side corridor, where it was quieter, cooler, and nearly empty. The very shop, hidden in the depths, began to materialize ahead – purple backlighting, reflections in glass, muffled bass thumping from the speakers inside, and a sharp, aggressive signage design.

Chris gave Kyoka's arm a gentle tug, grabbing her attention, and nodded toward the shop window glowing under the purple lamps. The gothic-styled sign above read: «Goody's».

Inside were punk jackets, leather belts, platform boots, and a whole ton of accessories – a pretty clear picture of what kind of person would wear that stuff.

— ...Want to check it out? Seems like punk, goth, and something... weird. Might be your thing. Looks like your style, kinda. — Chris, after eyeing the shop, turned his gaze back to Kyoka, hoping for a «Yes».

She looked at the window, squinted a bit, then turned back to him with a suspiciously sly look.

— That's sudden... You scoped this place out beforehand, didn't you? Be honest – are you gratifying me up or seducing me~? — she asked in a playful, cheeky tone.

— N-nah, we were just passing by... — Chris shrugged, trying to act like this hadn’t all been meticulously planned. — I... I just thought it might be interesting. And, well… why not have a look?

She snorted, but her lips twitched into a hint of a smile.

— ...Okay. You better behave. If you laugh at me in there and start handing me crap saying, «This would look amazing on you», then you're leaving… mmm… not quite whole… — She drew out the threat with mock menace.

— I swear, — he raised one hand, grinning, — I'll laugh quietly!

With a faint, almost lazy «Tch», and a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, Kyoka stepped inside first. The door softly shut behind her, muting the sounds of the mall – and for a moment, it felt like they had entered a different world.

The shop was dimly lit: a few small spotlights carved out displays, mannequins and racks from the shadows, highlighting the pricier items. The walls were covered in black, hard, slightly porous material – like sound-dampening panels, likely to block out the noise of the mall. The space inside was larger than it looked from outside. At the back wall stood six wide fitting rooms, hidden behind heavy dark curtains.

A sharp, thick scent lingered in the air – sharp, with hints of lacquer, faux leather, and maybe some kind of body spray. Altogether, it evoked the backstage of a club, where the stage was hidden but felt in every detail.

Chris stepped in after her and immediately noticed two young employees: a lanky guy and a curvy girl with a figure reminiscent of Yaoyorozu.

The guy, thin and pale, with black, long, smooth bangs covering half his face, looked like he'd been lifted off an emo band poster. His eyes were framed in precise black eyeliner, and his lips held a permanent expression of boredom. He lazily flipped through something on a tablet, not glancing at the entrance. Though completely focused on whatever was on his screen, he was listening to the girl next to him talking about something like a recent concert or whatever – Chris wasn't really paying attention. He had more pressing matters on his mind.

The second shop assistant was a girl. Visually loud and open. Her dark burgundy hair fell in waves down her back. A black leather corset hugged her waist tightly, emphasizing a sharp hourglass figure, with wide hips and a full breasts strapped with belts and metal buckles. A delicate chain glinted around her slender neck, and her plump lips were painted a deep wine shade. Dark shadows, sharp eyeliner, and deliberate paleness made her gaze striking.

Neither of them turned toward the entrance.

«So these two are the staff... But why weren’t they there earlier if the shop was open?».

Chris paused for a second, resisting the urge to sneak another glance at the counter – or rather, at the gothic beauty's wide ass, clad in a thigh-length skirt that formed soft bulges of plush flesh over long, gorgeous legs.

«Maybe it was lunch break. Or they were in the back — restocking...».

He glanced at his watch. His heart jolted.

«Two minutes. Two minutes left, and I'll be drowning in pleasure... or in new Kyoka's big boobs… Though, both is good… Yeah...». He inhaled deeply, only then realizing he'd been holding his breath the whole time.

«Calm down. Be cold. No rush...»

He replayed the entire journey in his mind – getting into this world, the fear for his life, exam prep, the panic waiting for results and finally, making it into Class 1-A. Everything had to come together. Everything was coming together. Now it was all going to pay off...

— You okay? — Kyoka's voice snapped him back to reality. She stood next to him, watching with a somewhat worried look. — You're kinda... pale. You sure you're ok?

— Huh…? A-ah, I'm good, — he stepped back, pretending to study a T-shirt display. — Just… it stuffy in here. Their ventilation's clearly just for aesthetics, — He gave a crooked smile, trying to make the line sound ironic, though his voice still wavered.

— Yeah... And next you'll say it's holographic. — she muttered, turning to a nearby rack. A few seconds later, she perked up: — Oh, look, they've got merch from «The Screaming Neko». Pretty sure they had a concert recently… — She pointed to a T-shirt with a bright print: a cartoonish cat-girl with multicolored hair, decked out in punk gear, screaming into a mic with a wild, almost demonic face.

Chris snorted, trying to come up with something to say. His thoughts darted between Kyoka, the transformation, the waiting, the past, the current convo and the upcoming "Pink Sky". It was all tangled. Nothing coherent surfaced. So he just said the first thing that popped into his head.

— You've got... unique taste... I guess.

She turned, eyes narrowing.

— Was that supposed to be a diss? — she asked, now more suspicious, and notably without the joking tone she'd used earlier.

— Hey, not what I meant, — Chris quickly raised his hands in mock surrender. — Just... you look better in something a little less... colorful.

Pause.

— Though... — he smirked. — Who am I to judge?

— Mhm — was all she replied before turning back to browse the shirt rack.

Chris allowed himself to relax for a moment. He glanced at his watch again.

«It's time. It's starting… Now!»

Next chapter will be huge, just wait...

"And remember! The Empire cares about you!"