New event outside the aquarium

The photography studio door closed, drowning out the subscribers' last murmurs. In the silence heavy with sweat and cheap perfume, Magi, Lara, and Chloe stood motionless, like dolls abandoned after a performance. May’s gesture was imperious, a sharp movement of his hand leading them through the corridors toward his office.

Two more figures loomed in the room's gloom: Sofia, whose gaze darted nervously from side to side, and Julia, who seemed to have petrified her face into a mask of total indifference. The quintet was complete.

May positioned himself behind his desk, a silhouette of imperturbable power.

"Congratulations, girls," his voice was a low, deliberate hum. "Today you exceeded all expectations. The... authenticity of your surrender has opened new doors."

No one answered. The air smelled of fear.

"One of those doors," he continued, sliding the fingertip of his finger over the desk's shine, "is 'Neptune's Grotto.' An establishment of certain prestige. Its owner, a valued partner, desires an exclusive exhibition. You will be that exhibition."

An almost imperceptible tremor ran through the group. Chloe held back a gasp. Sofia clenched her fists. Lara fixed her gaze on a spot on the wall. Magi felt the floor tilt. To go out. The words echoed in her head like a sentence. To be seen, recognized, exposed to the world.

"I understand your concern," said May, as if reading their thoughts. His tone was almost paternal, which was more terrifying than a scream. "Modesty is a burden, but understandable. Therefore, I have negotiated a condition."

He paused dramatically, ensuring he had the total attention of the five.

"None of you will show your face. The experience will be about forms, movement, the myth... not about identity. You will be shadows. Silhouettes. Anonymous creatures." From a bag at his feet, he pulled out five masks. They were not simple eye masks, but elaborate works of latex and resin: stylized siren faces with serene, empty expressions, with openings barely sufficient for the eyes and mouth. The straight dark hair of each was molded as an integral part of the mask. "Your new uniform includes this. Once put on, they will not be taken off until you return to this place. Is that clear?"

A collective sigh, a mixture of horror and tainted relief, filled the room. It wasn't freedom; it was a different kind of prison. They would no longer be humiliated women, but anonymous ghosts enacting a humiliation.

"The outfits," May continued, handing out folders, "are designed to complement the anonymity. You will wear capes, veils... nothing that can identify you. The focus will be on the elegance of movement, on suggestion." His gaze settled on each of them, cold and piercing. "This is not a punishment. It is an evolution. The opportunity to become pure essence, free from the weight of your past identities. Take advantage of it."

He dismissed Sofia, Julia, and Chloe with a gesture. Lara followed them, her resignation now tinged with a macabre curiosity. But when Magi turned to leave, May's voice stopped her.

"Magi. Stay."

She froze. May approached, circling her.

"Anonymity is a gift," he murmured, his voice a thread of poisoned silk. "It frees you from shame, doesn't it? It allows you to surrender completely to the moment, knowing that the one out there isn't you." His eyes locked onto hers. "But I do know who you are. And I know the debt that still weighs on that identity you’ll be able to forget tonight. Behaving impeccably under the mask... will bring closer the day when that debt disappears. Don't ruin it."

It was the same threat, wrapped in a perverse promise of liberation. The mask was not a protection; it was another tool of control, another layer of her cage.

Magi nodded, her throat too dry to speak.