Dejected, Helena walked off the stage, with no intention of participating in the final performance. She returned to her dressing room, ready to pack her things and leave.
Just as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, a staff member rushed in, calling out to her. “Where are you going? We’ve been looking all over for you!”
Helena paused. “What’s wrong?”
“Mr. X’s disciple chose you,” the staffer said breathlessly. “You still have a chance to compete.”
Helena froze, unable to believe what she was hearing. It was something she hadn't even dared to dream of.
“Hurry up and get ready! Sybil is almost finished, and you’re next!”
Helena was hurried backstage, where a familiar figure was waiting. “Ms. Lonsdale,” she stared, her mind reeling as the pieces clicked into place. “You’re… you’re Mr. X’s disciple?”
Loyce simply smiled and nodded. Everyone else had picked her, but Helena, worried her injury would be a burden, had been the only one not to.
A slow smile spread across Helena’s face, mirroring Loyce’s. “It would be an honor to be your partner.”
Liora, performing first, made a major mistake during her improvisation and received a low score. Sybil, on the other hand, delivered a stable performance and earned a decent score with her judge’s help. Now, all that remained was Helena’s turn.
Sybil sat primly in the contestants’ area, surrounded by a gaggle of fawning socialites.
“Sybil, the championship is definitely yours this time!” Yuna gushed, handing her a bottle of water. “That Helena girl still hasn’t shown her face. I bet her hand is completely useless now.”
“Exactly,” another girl in a pink dress chimed in, covering her mouth with a giggle. “What makes a girl from the slums think she can compete on the same stage as our Sybil?”
Sybil took an elegant sip of water, feigning modesty. “Don’t say that, the competition isn’t over yet.”
She glanced at the empty waiting area, a cold smirk touching her lips. “Although… it seems some people don’t have the courage to show up.”
A sudden stir rippled through the audience. The stage lights dimmed, and a single spotlight hit the entrance. Helena walked out calmly. And beside her, dressed in a simple, elegant white tweed suit, was Loyce.
“Which judge is that?!” the audience erupted.

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