Mikhailis drummed a lazy rhythm on the sofa's carved armrest, each tap sending a faint ripple through the illusion‑roses overhead. Petals of light drifted down on invisible drafts, dissolving just before touching his hair. He caught one between thumb and forefinger on pure reflex, grinning when it fizzled into harmless sparks.
If only real roses cleaned up after themselves, he mused, brushing stray glitter from his sleeve.
The rune dial on his chest vibrated—an impatient cough, really—reminding him to focus. Tiny arcane gears along its rim clicked in protest whenever his breathing jostled them. With a casual flick of his finger he pinned the [Fluffiness Integrity] bar to the top‑right corner of the projected HUD, because priorities.
Across the room, Lira had slipped in silently with a silver tray. She paused at the spectacle, one dark brow arching as she took in Mikhailis's sprawling pose and the floating game interface.
