Echoes of Midnight and Electric Whispers

Saturday night arrived with a sense of anticipation in the air. The 30th-anniversary celebration of the university had turned into the talk of the campus, with students buzzing about the grand event all week. The entire Graphic Design department, including our Year 1 Class Vanguard and Class Zenith, was invited, joining other departments like Fine Arts, Theatre, Music, Dance, and more—a total of 3,500 students. Preparations were well underway, and the excitement was palpable.

The days leading up to the party were tense, to say the least. After everything Hana and I had been through—escaping from a mysterious threat, uncovering pieces of the dark truth behind Project Aeon—the idea of attending a party seemed almost absurd. But it was necessary. A part of the plan. We had to blend in, act like everything was normal while using the opportunity to gather intel on the people who were targeting us.

Hana belonged to Class Vanguard, one of the top groups in the Graphic Design department. Known for her talent and discipline, she had a reputation for being focused and driven, rarely getting too close to anyone outside her inner circle. But it wasn't just her intellect and ambition that made her stand out—Hana was effortlessly stunning. With her flawless complexion, long dark hair that framed her face, and piercing hazel eyes, she was the definition of grace and beauty. Since the first day of university, Hana had been the center of attention for many guys. She was the girl—the one everyone talked about, chased after, and fantasized about. Yet, she always remained distant, never giving anyone the time of day beyond casual conversation.

On the other hand, I was part of Class Zenith, the second-most prestigious group. Our classes were competitive, but we rarely interacted outside of lectures. People from Vanguard and Zenith often kept to themselves, creating a quiet rivalry between the two groups.

Saturday night came fast, and the tension in my chest grew as I prepared for the event. Hana and I had already gone over everything we needed to do. Sergeant Kane had briefed us on safety measures, and Uncle Lucifer made sure I was equipped with covert communication devices, just in case anything went wrong. Hana, always prepared, handed me a small earpiece before we left for the party.

"Stay close, stay alert," she reminded me, her voice calm but serious. "We can't afford to slip up."

I nodded, securing the earpiece in place, the tiny device barely noticeable. In addition to the tech, Hana had arranged for discreet security personnel to blend into the party as guests, stationed at key points around the event. We weren't taking any chances.

Arriving at the university's 30th-anniversary celebration, we were greeted by a pulsating atmosphere. The entire event was designed to impress, with high-end lighting casting dramatic shadows across the expansive hall, transforming it into something that felt more like a nightclub than an academic function. Colored beams of light swept across the dance floor as a renowned DJ pumped out deep electronic beats that vibrated through the floor and into our bones. A sea of students and faculty mingled beneath shimmering chandeliers and modern neon art displays that gave the space an almost surreal, dreamlike quality.

The party was an assault on the senses—vibrant colors flashing across the room, and the deep bass of the music thrumming like a heartbeat in the background. Groups of people danced under cascading lights, their faces illuminated in bursts of electric blues, purples, and reds. Servers in sleek black attire floated through the crowd, carrying trays of champagne and cocktails. The mood was celebratory, glamorous, but beneath it all, a current of danger still hummed in the air—at least to me.

Hana and I entered together, catching a few curious glances. Normally, we kept to ourselves, hardly ever seen interacting outside of class. But tonight was different. Our sudden closeness didn't go unnoticed by our classmates. As we moved through the crowd, whispering and laughing with each other, a few raised eyebrows followed us, along with the occasional nudge between friends as they speculated on what was going on. I could hear them in the background, whispering:

"Wait, is that Lucas with Hana?"

"Didn't she reject half the guys in Vanguard?"

"Lucas and Hana? Since when?"

Some of the guys who had been chasing after Hana since the start of university exchanged looks of disbelief, clearly not thrilled by the sight of us together. It wasn't just the fact that we were interacting—it was the way we were interacting. The closeness, the laughter, the subtle touches. The unspoken connection that had developed between us.

Whispers followed us as we navigated through the crowd. A group of guys from Class Zenith, their eyes lingering on Hana, gave me looks ranging from confusion to envy. I overheard one mutter, "She could have anyone... What's she doing with him?" I clenched my fists reflexively, ignoring the comments, but Hana seemed unfazed. Her hand found mine, a small but deliberate gesture that made their stares burn even more.

Despite the murmurs, Hana and I played our part. We had to. We chatted, giggled, and even flirted a little, making sure to keep up appearances. The entire night felt like a balancing act—on one hand, trying to look like we were just two students enjoying the party, and on the other, keeping our guard up, scanning the crowd for anything out of the ordinary.

The night reached its peak when the DJ switched the tempo, bringing out slower, bass-heavy electro music. Hana looked at me, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

"Come on, Lucas. You can't stand on the sidelines forever."

She grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the dance floor. The pulsing lights flashed above us as we weaved through the crowd. By now, our classmates had taken note of us—some of them watching intently as we moved together through the mass of dancing bodies. Hana, always so composed and serious, was suddenly free-spirited, laughing as we stepped into the rhythm of the music.

As we danced, the atmosphere around us seemed to shift. The bass of the electro music thudded in my chest, mixing with the adrenaline coursing through me. The colorful lights flickered and spun, creating a kaleidoscope of shadows and figures on the walls. People moved with the music, losing themselves in the heavy beats. The entire space felt hypnotic—surreal, almost like a scene from a dream.

Hana's laugh, free and unguarded, caught me off guard as we moved through the throngs of people. It was strange seeing her like this, so different from her usual composed, tactical self. Her hand brushed mine as we walked through the crowd, and I couldn't tell if it was intentional or just the movement of the dance. Either way, it sent a spark through me, a reminder that something had shifted between us.

At some point, Hana leaned in closer, her face inches from mine, our movements synchronizing effortlessly. The air between us crackled with something that felt both dangerous and exhilarating. For a brief moment, everything else melted away—the tension, the fear, the uncertainty. It was just her and me. In this moment, I wasn't Lucas, the guy being hunted. I was simply dancing with Hana, feeling a closeness that hadn't been there before.

We weren't the type to show public displays of affection, but as the lights flickered around us and the music slowed, there was no denying the electricity in the air. We moved closer, our bodies almost touching as we swayed to the rhythm. A few of our classmates watched from the sidelines, some whispering, others outright staring at the unlikely pair of us—Lucas and Hana, two people who barely interacted, now caught in an unspoken connection on the dance floor.

"You're full of surprises," I whispered to her, my voice barely audible over the music.

She smirked, her eyes glinting in the flashing lights. "You have no idea, Lucas."

But amid the dancing and the flirtation, I couldn't forget why we were really here. My eyes continued to scan the room, looking for anything out of place. The security Hana had arranged was invisible, blending seamlessly into the crowd. But I knew they were there, watching, ready to step in if something went wrong.

As the night wore on, Hana and I made our rounds, keeping up the act while staying alert. The anniversary celebration was a perfect cover for Project Aeon to make a move. A party filled with unsuspecting students and faculty. A crowd. A chance for them to slip in unnoticed.

I glanced at Hana, and without saying a word, I knew she was thinking the same thing. This wasn't just a party—it was a test. A test of whether we could keep our cover and survive whatever was coming next.