Zeke took Violet across the academy. They traveled to the main entrance, where vibrant flower beds lined the path, their blooms painting the scenery in vivid reds, yellows, and purples. As they proceeded down the hill, they passed under the canopy of tall, ancient trees, their leaves glowing emerald green in the midday sun. The air was filled with the soft fragrance of blossoms, and the distant sight of the academy's gardens stretched out, splashed with a palette of colors, blending into the horizon.

"Say, where is that bodyguard of yours?" Zeke wondered.

"Nia got a sudden call from the hospital and had to go," Violet said in a soft tone.

"Isn't it a little too convenient that you got assaulted the moment she left?" Zeke wondered.

"I know what you're saying, but Nia wouldn't do something like that. She might look rough on the outside, but she's a really gentle soul on the inside," Violet explained.

"Gentle or not, she left you alone," Zeke scoffed.

"I'm sure she had a valid reason," Violet frowned, her brows drawing together and her lips pressing into a tight line, her expression tinged with both frustration and concern.

"How did you even get a bodyguard in the first place?" Zeke wondered.

"Well, ever since I was little, I always wanted to go outside with the other kids. But as you can see, because of my poor health, I was unable to. So as soon as I became old enough to enter the academy, I took the exams and joined," Violet explained. "My grandpa, however, wasn't a big fan of the idea. He stated that he would only allow me to go as long as I had a suitable bodyguard—he even tried finding one for me. But everyone he recommended looked like a literal mountain of muscles and testosterone. So my mom asked around and found Nia."

"Talking about hiring bodyguards like it's the most natural thing," Zeke remarked. "You guys really are rich."

"Oh, my grandpa and dad are super-rich. Me and Mom are just freeloading," Violet laughed.

Eventually, the two reached the monorail station at the bottom of the hill. A large structure, releasing loud steamy hums and metallic clangs.

"So this is a monorail station," Violet remarked, visibly stunned by the variety of sounds surrounding her—the hiss of the monorail brakes, the rhythmic clattering of metal against metal, and the distant crackle of announcements echoing through.

"Yeah, is this your first time taking one?" Zeke wondered.

"Oh yes, I never had the opportunity to before," she explained.

"So how do you usually commute?" Zeke asked.

"I have a driver," Violet smiled.

"A driver," Zeke mumbled. "So why didn't you just call him?"

"Because I didn't want to," Violet continued smiling.

Zeke sighed. "Alright," he placed his palm on his face. "So where do we have to go?"

"The safe zone," Violet replied.

"Well, of course," Zeke shook his head. "Just so you know, this will take a while. We'll first have to take a monorail to the shopping district, and then walk to the south monorail station in that area," Zeke explained.

"Sounds like a plan," Violet giggled with excitement.

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Immediately, the monorail arrived, opening its doors. Zeke tried pushing Violet in, but the wheels of her wheelchair couldn't cross the gap at the entrance dock.

"Hey, does your wheelchair fold?" Zeke asked, trying to nudge her inside.

"Yes, why?" Violet wondered.

With a swift movement, Zeke lifted her effortlessly, cradling her securely in his right arm while using his left to fold the wheelchair.

"You're quite strong, aren't you?" Violet remarked.

"I am a contractor," Zeke explained. "Wait, I'll set you back down."

"No!" Violet exclaimed. "I want to sit on the seats." She pulled on Zeke's collar.

"The same, smelly, musty old seats I'm seeing?" Zeke asked.

"Yes, but please pick out a less smelly one," Violet laughed.

"Sure," Zeke replied, setting her down on a seat next to the window and sitting down beside her, while cramming her wheelchair below.

"Ah, I've always wanted to take the monorail," Violet remarked.

"Really?" Zeke asked.

"Yeah, it really feels like an adventure," she giggled akin to a small child.

Violet stretched her arms, letting out a soft sigh before resting her head on Zeke's shoulder. "It's cozy here," she murmured, her head settling comfortably against him, her hand pressing gently on his shoulder as if seeking reassurance.

"Hey, don't you think you're feeling too relaxed?" Zeke stiffened up.

"Hmm," Violet lifted her head. "You smell nice," she remarked after sniffing his neck.

"I smell like detergent?" Zeke wondered.

"You smell like the sun," Violet shifted her face toward him, opening her eyes, revealing two lifeless, grayed-out pupils, like twin voids that seemed to swallow the light around them. They appeared almost hollow, reflecting nothing but an endless, sorrowful emptiness. There was a haunting quality to them, as if they held the weight of forgotten memories, giving the impression of an endless fog rolling through a desolate landscape.

"Ugly, aren't they?" she remarked, pulling away.

"What?" Zeke asked as he snapped out of his daze.

"My eyes," she clarified.

"No, why would you say that?" Zeke wondered.

"Well, my mom always said that my father had the most beautiful crimson eyes, and how instead I was born with this lifeless shade of gray," she explained. "Yeah, well, that doesn't make them ugly," Zeke looked away. "Just different."

"I'm glad you think so," Violet smiled.

Eventually, the two reached the shopping district. The bustling streets were alive with a vibrant energy, the loud traffic humming like a deep bass note beneath the rhythmic pacing of the crowds. It was as if the entire district moved to an unseen conductor's baton, the pulse of footsteps echoing like an orchestral drum, intertwined with the lively chatter of people. Bright neon signs flashed vivid colors, illuminating the scene in a kaleidoscope of blues, reds, and greens, while countless ads projected onto sleek screens added their electronic jingles to the lively symphony. Aromas drifted through the air, rich and diverse, from the smoky scent of grilling meat to the sweet allure of freshly baked pastries, filling the district with an intoxicating blend that made the entire scene feel almost surreal.

Violet's stomach growled as they walked past one of the shops.

"You hungry?" Zeke asked, giggling slightly.

"No," her face turned red.

"Two... please," Zeke mumbled somewhere into the distance before placing a skewer with meat and vegetables into her hand. "Tada," he laughed. Violet almost started drooling as she experienced the fragrant aroma spreading before her. With great anticipation, she bit into the skewer. The taste of perfectly grilled tender chicken filled her mouth, forcing a wide smile onto her face.

"Good, isn't it?" Zeke asked.

"Mhm," she nodded. "How much do I owe you?" she wondered.

"It's fine, you're buying the next ones," Zeke smirked.

"Deal!" Violet laughed.

Eventually, the two reached the second monorail station. This one appeared much cleaner than the one before, with gleaming white tiles that seemed to shine under the bright overhead lights. The walls were adorned with polished metal panels, reflecting a pristine, almost futuristic atmosphere. The sleek white monorails glided silently along spotless tracks, their surfaces shining without a trace of grime. The station was immaculate, with carefully manicured plants lining the edges and digital screens displaying clear, vibrant schedules. As the train arrived, Zeke easily wheeled Violet's wheelchair inside.

"Huh? You didn't have to carry me in?" she wondered.

"This one's different," Zeke explained. "A lot cleaner and nicer."

"It's a shame. I feel like a princess when you carry me," Violet giggled.

"By the way, you mentioned your dad had red eyes—is he a demon?" Zeke wondered.

"Well, he's one of the Thirteen," Violet explained. "Clive Blaine."

"The second strongest knight," Zeke retorted.

"Yes, that's the one," Violet smiled.

"How come he wasn't involved in picking out your bodyguard?" Zeke asked.

"My parents aren't exactly on speaking terms," Violet let out a nervous laugh, her voice barely masking her unease, as the monorail surged forward, blurring the scenery into a hazy mix of fleeting colors, like a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

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