'A Big Revelation'

"W-What does that mean?" Florian asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His confusion had deepened into something heavier—something bordering on dread.

Heinz exhaled slowly, his arms crossing over his chest in a deliberately slow, measured motion. His head tilted downward, and a few strands of his long black hair slipped forward, casting faint shadows over his sharp, aristocratic features. The dim candlelight in the room flickered, catching the eerie crimson glow in his irises.

"How much do you know about me, Not-Florian?"

Florian stiffened at the nickname, his brows twitching in irritation, but he quickly masked the reaction. He crossed his arms in return, mirroring Heinz's posture. It felt strange—relieving, even—to finally drop the forced personality he had been maintaining in front of him.

"So this is what it feels like to stop pretending," Florian thought, barely suppressing a sigh.