You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the crisp fabric of the uniform Ran had so graciously provided for you. The cropped burgundy blazer sat snugly against your frame, the gold buttons gleaming under the dim lighting. The embroidered school emblem on the left chest was an elegant touch, but the weight of it felt suffocating—it was a symbol of everything you despised about Elysium Institute, of the twisted ideals they nurtured behind their pristine walls.

Beneath the blazer, the white collared shirt fit comfortably, but the striped tie in matching burgundy and gold felt more like a leash than an accessory. You adjusted it with a grimace before your eyes drifted downward, stopping at the obscenely short black skirt. It barely reached mid-thigh, leaving far too much skin exposed for your liking. A deep frown tugged at your lips.

“…Did Ran customize this to be this short?” you muttered under your breath, already knowing the answer.

The mere thought made your jaw clench. Of course, he would. He always had to push boundaries, to remind you—without words—that he saw you as his . The worst part? He had the power to get away with it.

You tugged at the hem, attempting to pull it lower, but it was useless. The skirt refused to cooperate, as if taunting you. With a frustrated sigh, you moved on to the final piece of the uniform: the black knee-high socks. They completed the look, adding a formal yet stylish touch to the academy aesthetic. Deceptively refined, just like the institute itself.

Admiring wasn't the right word for what you felt, but you couldn't deny that the uniform suited you. Even so, it felt like you were putting on a costume—a disguise for the role you were about to play.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts.

"You almost ready?" Michael's voice came through, his tone tense.

You turned, taking one last look at yourself before stepping away from the mirror. When you opened the door, Michael stood there with arms crossed, his expression tight with disapproval. Behind him, the rest of your companions lingered, their faces a mix of unease, concern, and something close to dread.

No one spoke at first. The weight of their gazes was enough to suffocate you.

Michael was the first to break the silence. "You don't have to do this."

You met his stare, unwavering. "I do."

"No, you think you do." He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "You're walking straight into a suicide mission, and you know it."

You swallowed hard. "Maya is still out there."

"And what if she's already—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "What if you're throwing your life away for nothing?"

A flicker of pain shot through your chest, but you pushed it down. You couldn't think like that. Not now.

"If I were the one missing," you said quietly, "Maya wouldn't hesitate. She would do the same for me."

Michael cursed under his breath. "That's not the point—"

"It's exactly the point." You looked at each of them, taking in their worried faces. "I know what I'm doing. I understand the risks. But if sacrificing the life I have right now means I can bring her back, then so be it."

Silence fell over the room again. No one wanted to argue anymore, but the reluctance in their eyes told you they still wished they could.

Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "At least promise me this—don't lose yourself in there."

Your lips curled into a humorless smile. "I'll try."

It was the best you could offer.

The towering iron gates of Elysium Institute for the Tainted loomed before you, an imposing structure adorned with intricate gold filigree that belied the horror hidden within its walls. At the very top, the school's emblem gleamed under the midday sun—a heart wrapped in chains, its meaning painfully clear. This was not a place of learning. It was a sanctuary for the obsession, a breeding ground for fixation and control.

Your stomach churned violently. The moment you stepped through these gates, you would be stepping into their world.

Taking a slow breath, you observed your surroundings, your gaze drifting across the massive campus. The main building was an architectural marvel, its gothic spires stretching toward the sky, as if daring the heavens to intervene. The stained-glass windows shimmered with eerie depictions of devotion—scenes of lovers bound together by red strings, depictions of worship, of possession. A dark mockery of love.

But it wasn't the buildings that unsettled you the most.

It was the people.

Once normal humans, now irreversibly Tainted.

Your eyes flitted from one student to another, watching as they moved through the courtyard. There was an eerie sense of order, but beneath it was something far more disturbing.

You caught sight of a boy sitting on a bench, staring down at his phone with a soft, almost dreamy smile. His fingers hovered just above the screen, hesitant to touch it, as if he feared that even through the device, he might somehow damage the image of his beloved. And then—

"She posted."

The whisper escaped his lips like a reverent prayer. His eyes glazed over, his expression twisting into something feverish.

"She exists. She's real. She's mine."

The way he cradled the phone, the way his breathing grew heavier with every second—it made bile rise in your throat.

Your attention snapped to another couple nearby. A woman stood tall, her presence commanding, her gaze locked onto the man kneeling before her. The contrast was jarring—her cold, unreadable expression against his unhinged grin, his entire body trembling with anticipation.

Then came the sound of leather striking skin.

You flinched as the man moaned obscenely loud, his body arching toward the lash rather than away from it. Blood trickled down his exposed back, yet he shuddered in pleasure.

"More."

The word fell from his lips like a desperate plea.

"More, my goddess. Please, more—"

Your breath caught. Sadistic and Delusional?

You had known that some varieties of the Tainted could overlap, but seeing it firsthand sent a chill down your spine. Delusional Tainted could have masochistic tendencies, and here was the perfect, horrifying proof.

You wanted to look away. You should have looked away.

Yet, for a few seconds too long, you simply stood there, frozen, watching the sickening display unfold.

And then—

Darkness.

A pair of hands covered your eyes.

You barely had time to yelp before familiar giggles brushed against your ear.

"Now, now," a voice cooed. "What are you looking at so intensely, darling? Should I be jealous?"

A sigh of relief escaped you, though it was quickly followed by exasperation.

Ran stood before you, dressed in the Elysium Institute's male uniform—a burgundy blazer with gold buttons and an embroidered school emblem on the left chest pocket. Beneath it, he wore a crisp white collared shirt, paired with a dark brown tie that had subtle patterns. Black dress pants completed the look, and a neatly pinned name tag rested on his blazer, giving him an air of formal refinement that starkly contrasted with the unsettling gleam in his eyes.

"Ran." You reached up, praying his hands away from your eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

He grinned, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "Stopping you from witnessing things that might corrupt that little untainted mind of yours." His hands lingered, fingers brushing against yours before he finally let go.

You scowled, stepping back. "I need to see what goes on in this place. That's the whole point of being here."

Ran pouted dramatically. "Yes, yes. You're on your little mission. But honestly, you looked like you were about to faint." He tilted his head. "Second thoughts?"

Your stomach still churned. The raw display of obsession, the way love had been twisted beyond recognition—it was more than unsettling. But second thoughts? No.

You straightened your posture, pushing past the nausea. "Never."

Ran's grin widened. "That's my girl."

You glared. "I am not your—"

He waved off your protest with a chuckle. "Let's not waste time, darling. You have an institute to infiltrate."