A collective gasp rippled through the hundreds gathered at the Grand Canal plaza as three figures, soaked to the bone and sputtering, arced through the air. Nimmi, Renzo, and Janna landed with a chaotic splash directly onto the elevated wooden stage, scattering sawdust and startling a troupe of musicians mid-flourish. Renzo scrambled backward, sword half-drawn, his face a mask of primal terror. Nimmi, meanwhile, simply pushed her tangled hair from her eyes, a beatific smile gracing her lips. “Oh, look! We’re here!” she chirped, completely oblivious to the panic she’d just caused. “Just in time!” Indeed, Mayor Torvin, a man whose portly frame strained the seams of his cerulean robes, stood beside a vast, draped form at the stage's edge, his hand already reaching for the heavy wool cloth. His planned dramatic pause disintegrated into a bewildered squawk as the three canal-drenched individuals materialized. “Nimmi Varo!” he blustered, adjusting his spectacles. “My dear, you’re… rather damp.” Nimmi merely shrugged, sending rivulets of water cascading down her shoulders. “A minor detour, Mayor. But the pièce de résistance is quite dry, I assure you!” She gestured vaguely towards the draped structure, a massive bulk that hummed with a subtle, contained luminosity. Janna, however, didn’t hear Nimmi’s easy dismissal. Her vision narrowed, the vibrant plaza blurring into a distorted tunnel. All she saw was the veiled sculpture, the symbol of Nimmi’s effortless, infuriating success. The world had gone silent, save for a high-pitched whine that resonated in her skull. [FATAL ERROR. MEMORY CORRUPTION. PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: DESTROY. DESTROY. DESTROY. SYSTEM CORE BREACHED.] Her mind, stripped raw by the System’s final, dying throes, latched onto a single, primal command. Ruin it. Her eyes darted wildly, scanning the bewildered faces of the crowd, searching for something, anything, to enact her purpose. Her gaze landed on a burly dockworker, his broad hands gripping a heavy iron mallet, poised to sink a decorative spike into a newly erected stall. The dockworker blinked in confusion as Janna, a wild, unhinged glint in her eyes, snatched the mallet from his grasp. Its weight was reassuring, solid in her trembling hands. The crowd, which had started to murmur about the soggy arrival, clamped shut, a brittle hush spreading outwards from the stage. “Janna, what are you doing?” Renzo hissed, his terror of the Leviathan briefly forgotten in the face of Janna’s erratic actions. He took a cautious step towards her, but she was already moving, her focus absolute. “I won’t let you win, Nimmi!” Janna shrieked, her voice raw, cracking with manic fury that echoed across the suddenly hushed stones. “Not again! Not ever!” She lunged forward, a harsh snarl tearing from her throat. The heavy mallet arced through the air, aimed directly at the shimmering, veiled form of Nimmi’s masterpiece. The crowd gasped, a collective intake of breath. The musicians dropped their instruments with a clatter. The magistrate let out a choked sound, his hand still hovering over the wool cloth. Nimmi, however, didn't flinch. Her gaze remained fixed on Janna, a flicker of profound sadness in her eyes. But she didn’t try to stop her. She simply took a small, almost imperceptible step to the side, allowing Janna's wild charge to pass unhindered. The mallet descended with all of Janna’s ravaged strength, a frenzied strike meant to shatter dreams and leave nothing but glittering dust. It struck the shrouded surface with a sickening crunch. But it wasn’t the sound of glass shattering. It was the sound of metal meeting something far, far harder. There was an instant, blinding flash of abyssal light, a surge of pure, raw magic that erupted from beneath the tarp. The blacksmith's mallet, forged of sturdy iron, exploded outwards in a shower of jagged, whistling shrapnel. A sharp, high-pitched *ping* echoed across the paving stones as a tiny piece of metal ricocheted off a nearby clock tower. The magical recoil, a silent, invisible force, slammed into Janna. Her chin snapped back in shock, her body suddenly weightless. She flew backward, a surprised squawk escaping her lips, soaring over the heads of the front-row spectators. She landed with a resounding *splat* directly into the towering, intricately arranged pyramid of cream tarts that adorned the Mayor’s refreshment table. Cream and crushed pastry exploded outwards, plastering Janna in a ridiculous, sugary paste. Her face, smeared with raspberry jam and vanilla cream, remained frozen in an expression of utter bewilderment. Silence hung heavy for a beat, then another. Then, a single giggle erupted from the crowd. It quickly multiplied, growing into a ripple, then a wave, then a thunderous roar of laughter that shook the very foundations of the Grand Canal Square. People clutched their bellies, tears streaming down their faces, pointing at the confection-plastered spectacle. The mayor, caught between outrage and amusement, let out a nervous, wheezing chuckle. Nimmi, her expression still unruffled, finally turned her attention to the centerpiece. “Well,” she mused, a hint of playful mischief in her tone, “I suppose that’s one way to start the unveiling.” With a flourish that was both practiced and utterly casual, Torvin, still wiping a tear of laughter from his eye, grabbed the heavy tarp and yanked it away. The crowd’s laughter died on their lips, replaced by a collective, stunned silence. There, bathed in the soft glow of the lantern-lit pavilion, stood the intricate glass harness. Its framework, crafted from the Abyssal Pearl glass, shimmered with an otherworldly brilliance, each arch and filigree singing with contained power. But it was empty. Utterly, undeniably empty. Just then, a monstrous, earth-shaking roar ripped through the air, echoing from the very heart of the canals.

The Unveiling