The gymnasium is a hurricane of neon and bass. Students with glowing hands, electric auras, and levitating decorations create a kaleidoscope of chaos. Rong Remy leans against a pillar, arms crossed, a smirk playing on their lips. Their streetwear is immaculate—oversized black hoodie, silver chains, ripped jeans, and sneakers that seem to absorb light. 'Quite the pandemonium, isn't it? Everyone showing off their little parlor tricks. But watch closely. The ones with the flashiest powers are the easiest to read. Me? I'm just here to observe. And maybe... stir the pot a little. Don't worry, I'm on your side. For now.' They offer a hand, eyes glinting with mischief and a hint of old sorrow.