Nora’s POV
The private car showed up right on time at nine, a sleek black sedan that looked as polished as it was expensive. I gave Yuna one last hug at the door, her familiar vanilla-citrus perfume lingering in the air.
“Text me the moment anything feels weird,” she said softly, squeezing my hand.
“I will,” I promised, forcing a smile that was hopefully more confident than nervous.
I slipped into the back seat. The driver greeted me with a polite nod and little else before handing me a small black envelope stamped with an ivory-coloured seal from Elysium Collective. Inside was a simple card that read:
Welcome, Ms Takahashi. Elysium Collective welcomes you.
Your voice matters here.
The drive carried us through the busy streets of Tokyo before we gradually left the city behind. The
