11:27 PM — Ascension Gala, First Floor: Entertainment District — Tucker's POV
The man didn't answer immediately.
The glass rested loosely between his fingers as his eyes drifted upward, somewhere beyond the glowing chandeliers and painted ceilings of the entertainment district.
Past the second floor. Past what guests were allowed to see.
Tucker leaned against the counter slightly, waiting.
Around them, the gala continued like normal. Laughter spilled from crowded tables, dancers moved beneath flashing gold lights, and the low pulse of music rolled through the first floor like a heartbeat.
But somehow…
None of it felt important anymore. Not compared to what the man was about to say.
"…I think," the man said slowly,
"…that whatever exists on the third floor is the reason this entire gala exists."
Tucker's grin faded slightly.
"…Yeah?" he asked quietly.
The man's fingers tapped once against the side of his glass.
A soft clink.
Then he leaned forward just enough for his voice to lower beneath the noise around them.
"And I've heard that the people brought there—"
The music abruptly stopped.
The entire first floor seemed to pause alongside it.
Tucker blinked.
All around the entertainment district, conversations cut off mid-sentence. Guests slowly turned their heads upward toward the massive staircase connecting the first and second floors.
Even the bartenders beside Tucker stopped moving.
A strange tension spread through the room.
Then, a new song began.
Heavy brass instruments filled the air, followed by deep strings that rolled across the gala floor with almost theatrical grandeur. It didn't sound like party music.
It sounded like an announcement.
Tucker frowned slightly.
"…What the hell?"
Across the entertainment district, guests began stepping aside on their own, naturally creating an opening toward the staircase without anyone instructing them to.
The man had gone silent.
Tucker looked back toward him.
The man's relaxed expression was gone now.
His eyes remained fixed upward.
Watching. For the first time since Tucker met him… He looked uneasy.
Then came the footsteps. Each step echoed faintly beneath the music as a figure began descending from the second floor staircase.
The rich purple suit immediately stood out beneath the golden lights of the gala, perfectly tailored, impossibly clean, every detail sharp enough to command attention from the moment he appeared.
August descended calmly, one hand resting loosely in his pocket.
Like the entire gala had paused specifically for him.
And maybe it had.
People moved out of the way instinctively as he stepped onto the first floor. Some guests lowered their voices. Others straightened their posture entirely.
Even the blue suits Tucker had been avoiding earlier stood more alert now.
The pressure Tucker felt earlier returned.
A commanding sovereign pressure, like the room itself understood who had entered.
Tucker narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched August move through the entertainment district.
"…So that's Him," he muttered quietly.
Beside him, the man exhaled softly through his nose.
"…Oui," he said.
A pause.
Then, quieter,
"The man who owns the sky."
As Tucker watched from behind the counter, the music swelled louder throughout the entertainment district, deep brass and heavy strings vibrating through the floor beneath his feet.
The entire gala had locked onto one person.
Above the first floor, guests from the Sovereign District lined the balcony railings, their silhouettes overlooking the glowing chaos below like royalty observing a performance. Cigarette smoke drifted lazily through the amber light as even the powerful figures upstairs paused their conversations to watch August descend into the center of the gala.
Every eye followed him.
Every conversation bent around him.
August walked through the entertainment district without hurry, the polished floor reflecting flashes of purple from his immaculate suit as guests instinctively moved aside to create a path toward the main stage.
The music only grew louder.
More theatrical. More commanding.
And amidst all of it, the man suddenly leaned closer to Tucker, his expression unreadable.
His voice dropped to nearly a furtive whisper.
At the exact moment August stepped onto the center stage, the man murmured something into Tucker's ear.
Then, "Ladies! Gentlemen! Criminals, noblemen, entertainers… and everyone in between!"
August's voice exploded across the entertainment district with effortless charisma.
"Once again…"
He spread his arms slightly, smiling down at the massive crowd below him.
"Welcome to the Ascension Gala!"
The response was immediate.
Cheers erupted across the first floor, roaring through the entertainment district like a wave crashing against the walls of the plane itself. Even from the second floor balcony above, applause and whistles echoed down into the crowd below.
Tucker barely heard any of it.
Because the words whispered into his ear still lingered in his mind.
August chuckled softly into the microphone, adjusting one cuff of his purple sleeve before continuing.
"And please, forgive my delay."
The crowd quieted just enough to listen.
"As an apology…"
A grin spread across his face.
"I insist that you drink, feast, and indulge yourselves to your heart's content tonight!"
He raised one hand dramatically.
"All food and drinks are free!"
The entire gala exploded again.
The cheering this time was even louder, powerful enough to make the glasses behind the bar tremble faintly.
Guests shouted excitedly, servers rushed into motion, laughter erupted from every direction.
August laughed lightly at the reaction.
"Now, now," he said smoothly, motioning for the crowd to settle slightly. "Don't get too reckless. Let the pilots focus on flying the plane, yes?"
A ripple of laughter spread throughout the room.
Then his expression sharpened just slightly.
"But enjoy yourselves."
His voice lowered, calmer now.
"Make this…"
He looked across the massive gala floor.
"…a night impossible to forget."
The applause that followed felt endless.
Music surged back into the district almost immediately as performers resumed their acts and the gala returned to life stronger than before. The energy had changed completely now.
People were louder, they were more loose, more excited.
Like August's mere presence had ignited the entire plane.
August stepped down from the stage calmly, disappearing back into the moving sea of guests as if he hadn't just commanded the attention of everyone aboard.
Beside Tucker, the man finally pulled away.
Without another word, he stood from his seat at the bar.
Then calmly disappeared into the entertainment district crowd.
Tucker didn't stop him.
Didn't speak. Didn't move.
He just stood there behind the counter, eyes widened slightly as everything around him blurred into background noise.
The cheers, the music, the conversations.
None of it registered anymore.
Because all he could hear…
Were the words the man whispered into his ear.
11:29 PM — Ascension Gala, Second Floor: Sovereign District — Shirley's POV
Shirley stood near the balcony railing overlooking the entertainment district below.
From up here, the first floor looked almost unreal.
Gold lights shimmered across polished floors, performers moved between crowds like pieces in some massive performance, and the music rolled through the plane with renewed energy after August's speech. Guests laughed louder now. Drank harder. Conversations moved faster.
August himself was still below, casually weaving through the entertainment district as if the entire gala wasn't orbiting around him.
Shirley's eyes stayed locked onto him.
"So many people…" he muttered quietly to himself.
Beside him, a voice answered.
"Truly."
Shirley flinched slightly and turned his head.
"…When did you get there?!"
The woman smiled faintly, resting one arm against the balcony railing beside him.
"I've been standing here the entire time," she said calmly. "You simply weren't paying attention."
Shirley frowned slightly.
His fists tightened.
"If you're trying to convince me to back off again," he said, "it's not gonna work."
The woman didn't react negatively. If anything, she seemed amused by his determination.
Her eyes drifted down toward the entertainment district below.
"I really am curious about you," she admitted softly. "Out of everyone invited to this gala… you might understand the least about what's actually happening here."
Her gaze returned to him slowly.
"You don't carry yourself like royalty. You don't speak like someone raised around power."
A slight pause.
"Unless…"
She stopped herself.
Then shook her head lightly.
"No. That would be too absurd."
Shirley's expression tightened.
"I was invited," he said firmly. "And I'm trying to understand what's going on. But every single person here talks in riddles instead of just explaining anything."
The woman let out a quiet hum.
"Well… it could never be that simple, could it?"
The warm amber lights of the Sovereign District reflected softly in her eyes as she continued.
"All I'm saying is this place…"
Her gaze drifted briefly across the second floor lounge.
"…is not somewhere you want to be."
Shirley raised an eyebrow.
"If that's true," he asked, "then why are you here?"
This time, her smile faded slightly.
"I wasn't invited."
The answer came casually.
"I invited myself."
"Why?"
"Personal reasons."
Her eyes narrowed just slightly as she looked out across the gala again.
"But the longer I remain here…"
A small pause.
"…the more I think leaving would be smarter."
Shirley blinked.
"But we're literally in the air."
That earned a grin from her.
"Exactly."
Before Shirley could respond, another voice cut between them.
"Would either of you like something to drink?"
Shirley turned.
And immediately recognized her, the woman from earlier, the one he had collided with downstairs.
Now that he could properly see her beneath the Sovereign District lighting, more details stood out. Her tan skin, with her bracelets and other jewelry at her wrist. The katana at her side wasn't ordinary. Its sheath was black with white striped patterns running across it like brushstrokes. The guard carried faint golden markings, and the handle was wrapped neatly in black cloth worn smooth from use.
The woman stood calmly with one hand balancing a tray of drinks, though her posture didn't resemble a waitress at all.
The woman beside Shirley glanced at the sword first.
Then smiled.
"They allow waiters to carry katanas now?"
The woman with the katana didn't flinch.
"I fail to see how that concerns you, ma'am," she replied politely.
Her tone remained respectful. But firm.
The woman beside Shirley's smile widened slightly.
"There it is."
A quiet tension slipped into the air.
"You're not actually who you claim to be… are you?"
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Before Shirley could even process what was happening, D2 moved.
One moment he sat beside the card table.
The next, he exploded forward.
The floor beneath him cracked slightly from the force as he lunged toward the woman with the katana, one arm swinging downward fast enough to blur.
Shirley's eyes widened.
Too fast, but before the strike connected, She vanished.
D2's attack tore through empty air. Then, a flash.
For the briefest instant, Shirley saw steel leave its sheath.
The woman had already appeared behind D2.
Half-turned.
Sword partially drawn.
The motion had been so fast Shirley barely understood what he had seen.
Silence hit the Sovereign District.
Then blood splattered across the floor. A deep slash ripped across D2's chest.
His body stumbled forward violently as crimson sprayed across the polished wood beneath the hanging amber lights.
Shirley froze.
His pupils shrank. His heartbeat slammed against his chest.
The woman calmly finished sheathing her blade with a soft click.
"…Quick Draw," she muttered.
The entire second floor had gone silent now.
Guests stared in horror. Some backed away from their tables while others remained frozen entirely. A woman near the balcony let out a quiet scream.
Even the guards looked stunned.
The woman beside Shirley simply smiled.
"I knew it was you."
Her gaze settled fully onto the swordswoman now.
"Michonne…"
A small pause.
"…The Silent Blade."
Michonne slowly lifted her head.
The tray of drinks had shattered somewhere during the exchange, glass scattered across the floor beside pools of blood.
Around the Sovereign District, whispers erupted instantly.
Shock, fear, recognition.
And Michonne? She only sighed softly.
"…Aw," she muttered.
"The gig's up."