He enters like a droplet from the Sun.

And his presence is a burning tear in the Tent’s darkness, making Sera shudder from its heat.

Her red eyes are suddenly swimming with tears and bright flames, her nose overwhelmed by spice. Spontaneous, powerful firesears her skin to the point where she is sweating quite visibly.

But even greater than the heat building in the air as he approaches is her desire to taste him-

The Tent’s black flares to life.

Chaotic whispers giggle and scream and burn paths in the once empty space, forcibly painting images of times long forgotten. Sera gasps in ecstasy.

“Welcome, customer,” she sings behind her veil, “Show me the agony behind those jaded eyes of yours.”

He lifts his hood; his gaze meets with hers, green on red, and she is desperate to devour the beautiful light behind it.

“I am not a customer, as you should already know.” His voice is silken: seduction incarnate. Sera does not flinch as she feels what has to be his Fau come close to her face. Their blindingly obnoxious presence whips past her ears and eyes, but she still watches the Man, mesmerized by every breath. “Yes, I am well aware. You’re a rather peculiar thing, not quite human, but not quite Fau. A very strange, heavy scent.”

Above them, the scenes shift into a swamp. She can feel a disgusting Essence clog her pores, yet even this is not enough to abate her focus on the client before her.

“But Hunter, the game’s always no fun when I know the outcome. Why don’t we play as if your intentions were not splashed on these walls,” she purrs, motioning with an open palm to an empty chair across from her.

He takes the seat.

“Now, you’ve been drawn to my Tent for a reason-”

“You have something I want,” he interrupts.

She makes a sound of disapproval, “No no, you must play along! If you do, I’ll give this,” she lifts the glowing amulet from beneath her shawl, “to you without an unnecessary struggle.” The Shard of Vanitas is larger than the usual, more powerful and more corrupt than any the Man has ever seen. He grimaces with annoyance, but it only makes her smile grow even larger.

“I am powerful, young one. Not a Deity, but just as strong.”

A threat.

He weighs his options, sitting silently and motionless.

Sera’s gaze wanders ravenously over his clothed body, her hunger growing exponentially as the storm above her rages on.

Finally, he sighs in defeat, and the Fau around them quiet. “You must keep your promise. It’s been heard by more than just us.”

The Flames’ menace burns her, along with another in the shadows. Sera noticed her before, but now, she can sense the Cat’s Essence quite clearly. Molten amber hatred glares from behind the Man.

Sera laughs, “Of course. I will not risk angering you or your cute little jynx.”

The Man nods, and suddenly, the Tent’s black returns, and the murderous eyes slowly fade away, though Sera can tell they were reluctant.

He stretches and gives Sera a bored yawn. “So, tell me what you want.”

“I simply wish for you to lie back and think. The Tent of Dreams is a servant to its customers, letting whomever dance in their fantasies to their satisfaction. My only payment is watching your memories with you. That is all,” she explains.

“How kind,” he replies sarcastically, “Tell me, what do you really do to people in here? You’ve got your fair share of customers, yet all you do is let them relive their pasts. Who in their right mind would want to do that?”

His glare is so pointed that she nearly flinches.

And suddenly, the Tent is filled with screaming.

Men, women, and children all cry out in agony around them. Sera’s eyes are filled with smoke and flame as the walls combust into a sudden inferno of emotions. She looks around as quickly as she can, desperately trying to make sense of the mess of images that flicker by.

In a span of two seconds, she witnessed the end of at least a dozen lives, humans and Fau alike.

Awed and overwhelmed, she stares at the pained, stunning eyes of the Man in front of her.

“Are you sure you want this as your payment, witch?”

She swallows nervously, the perspiration building on her palms and face.

She has never been so excited before.

“Yes,” she manages, “This is fine.”

For a moment, the Man’s eyes glance down, his expression filled with unspeakable sorrow and grief. Sera can see red and feel satin run across her face, the murmur of jubilance echoing throughout the room. In the distance, a woman’s voice calls out to her, lovingly, adoringly.

Then, the Man looks up and grins with vicious intent. “Very well. Do your worst.”

She shivers, taking a moment to calm herself.

“My name is Luxuria, by the way,” he adds flippantly.