The transformation took six hours.
Elara stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror in her suite, barely recognizing the woman staring back. Gone was the paint-stained girl in oversized cardigans. In her place was a vision in midnight blue. The gown, a masterpiece curated by Min-ho, was made of silk so fine it moved like water. It clung to her curves before flowing into a train that shimmered with hand-stitched silver thread, mimicking the constellation of the Lyre.
"I told you," a voice purred from the doorway.
Min-ho Park leaned against the frame, looking every bit the nation's heartthrob in a tailored white tuxedo with sapphire lapels. He walked toward her, his eyes scanning her from head to toe with an appreciation that felt uncomfortably warm.
"You aren't just a restorer tonight, Elara," he said, reaching into a velvet box he carried. He pulled out a necklace—a single, massive blue diamond shaped like a teardrop. "Tonight, you are the Blue Orchid's crown jewel. Wear this, and no one will dare to look away."
As he stepped behind her to fasten the clasp, his fingers lingered on the nape of her neck. His touch was light, practiced, yet Elara felt a spark of genuine electricity.
"Is this necessary?" Elara whispered, looking at the diamond. "Killian said the Stones are looking for me. Walking into a gala is like putting a target on my back."
"The best place to hide a diamond is in a room full of glass," Min-ho replied, his face reflecting next to hers in the mirror. "Besides, if you stay locked in that lab any longer, you'll turn into a ghost. You need to breathe, Elara. Trust me."
The Blue Moon Gala was held at the Lotte World Tower, hovering high above the glittering lights of Seoul. The air was thick with the scent of expensive lilies and the predatory hum of the city's elite.
As the elevator doors opened, the flash of cameras was blinding. Min-ho instinctively stepped in front of Elara, his arm sliding around her waist to guide her through the sea of reporters.
"Smile," he whispered through gritted teeth, maintaining his perfect idol grin. "They love a mystery, but they worship beauty."
Inside the ballroom, the Five Orchids had claimed the central lounge. Killian was already there, looking like a dark god in a black-on-black suit. He held a glass of champagne, his eyes narrowing as he saw Min-ho's hand on Elara's waist.
"You're late," Killian said, his voice a low vibration of displeasure.
"We had to make sure the masterpiece was framed correctly," Min-ho shot back, unfazed.
Jace, standing nearby with a smirk and a flask hidden in his inner pocket, let out a low whistle. "Damn, Muse. If I knew you cleaned up that well, I would've skipped the bike ride and taken you straight to the bedroom."
"Watch it, Jace," Silas rumbled. He was dressed as a high-end security detail, his presence a silent wall of muscle behind the group. His eyes never left the crowd, scanning for threats.
"Shall we?" Min-ho asked, offering Elara his hand as the orchestra began a waltz.
Dancing with Min-ho was like being caught in a choreographed dream. He moved with a grace that came from years of being on stage. But as they whirled through the crowd, Elara felt her 'Sight' begin to flicker.
The 'threads' she had seen in the lab were becoming visible again.
The room was a web of colors. Most people had dull gray or pale yellow threads, representing their mundane greed and social standing. But then, she saw it.
A jagged, sickly green thread cutting through the ballroom. It was attached to a man in a silver mask standing near the balcony.
"Min-ho," Elara whispered, her heart skipping a beat. "Something is wrong."
"Just keep dancing," he murmured, pulling her closer. "Everyone is watching."
"No, look at his hand!"
Through her Sight, Elara saw the green thread pulsing. The man wasn't holding a glass; he was holding a small, pressurized canister. It wasn't a bomb—it was a biological agent, a concentrated form of the 'Stone' family's corruption.
"He's going to release it into the ventilation!" Elara gasped.
Before Min-ho could respond, Elara broke the dance. She didn't run away; she ran toward the threat.
"Elara, stop!" Killian's voice boomed from across the room.
But Elara was faster. Her Sight allowed her to calculate the shortest path through the dancing couples. She slipped between a CEO and a duchess, her blue dress fluttering like a butterfly's wing.
She reached the man just as his finger tightened on the trigger of the canister.
"Don't," she said, her voice ringing out over the music. Her eyes were glowing a brilliant, terrifying amber.
The man froze, paralyzed by the sheer intensity of her gaze. It was as if she were looking directly into his soul, unraveling the threads of his intent.
In that split second of hesitation, Silas appeared behind the man like a ghost. With one swift motion, he disarmed the assassin and pinned him to the marble floor.
The music stopped. The room went silent.
Killian was at Elara's side in an instant, his hands gripping her shoulders. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," she breathed, the amber glow in her eyes fading as the adrenaline began to ebb.
Min-ho stepped forward, looking shaken but impressed. He looked at the crowd, then at Elara. The 'product' he had tried to create—the pretty girl in the blue dress—was gone. In her place was something much more powerful.
Jace walked over, kicking the canister away with a scowl. "I told you she was a lioness. You guys keep trying to put her in a dress, and she keeps trying to save the world."
Alistair, who had been watching from the shadows of the bar, stepped into the light. He looked at Elara with a clinical fascination that bordered on obsession. "Her neural spikes... they didn't just perceive the threat. She projected her will. The Sight is evolving."
Killian ignored them all. He looked down at Elara, his expression a mix of fury and something that looked dangerously like pride.
"The gala is over," Killian announced to the room, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "And to anyone who thought the Muse was a target... you just saw what happens when you touch what belongs to the Orchids."
As they were escorted out by Silas, Elara looked back at the ballroom. She realized that tonight, she hadn't just been introduced to society. She had declared war on it.
And as she felt the eyes of the five men on her—Killian's possessiveness, Jace's admiration, Alistair's curiosity, Min-ho's wonder, and Silas's loyalty—she knew that her life as a simple artist was officially over.
She was the heart of the storm. And she was finally learning how to command the wind.