The stage was plunged into darkness.
The lift rose slowly, and in an instant, a barrage of brilliant spotlights converged on the members of Group S03, who stood with their backs to the audience.
Applause rippled through the hall, though a few scattered boos punctuated the air. It wasn't surprising; for many, the name Charlotte had become synonymous with scandal.
Then, the beat dropped.
The instant Charlotte—holding the center position—spun around, the arena went dead silent.
She stood there in her "shredded" battle-worn outfit, the painted-on scars gleaming under the lights with a raw, breathtaking beauty. She didn't look like an idol; she looked like a Valkyrie returning from the front lines.
A tongue-twisting, high-speed rap took on a haunting, unique melody through Charlotte's crisp vocals. Her body moved in perfect sync with the rhythm, making the complex, high-intensity choreography look effortless and free.
She was hitting every beat with surgical precision. The sheer kinetic energy in her movements perfectly mirrored Jax's instructions, but the "battle-damaged" look added a layer of primal, explosive energy.
In the mentor's row, Jax watched her with a fierce intensity, muttering to himself, "She actually did it..."
Beside him, a ghost of a smile played on Leo's lips, his eyes shining with pure, unadulterated awe.
Of all the mentors, Evan was the one losing it. He was out of his seat before anyone noticed, and snapping photos like a man possessed.
Then came the climax—the high-difficulty Dance Break.
Charlotte reached behind her waist and pulled out a miniature device—a signal transmitter she had "borrowed" from the sound engineer earlier under the guise of adjusting her earpiece. She clicked it.
In an instant, the stage lighting went rogue.
The static white lights exploded into a frenetic laser show of red and blue, frantically chasing Charlotte's movements. Every time she stomped, the LED floor erupted into fractal blooms of light; every time she threw her hand out, a beam of light struck exactly where her finger pointed.
It was an automated script she had hacked into the lighting console the night before, tethering the lighting cues perfectly to her choreography.
The crowd went ballistic.
"Holy shit! Look at those visuals!"
"How is she controlling the lights like that? That's insane!"
"Goddess of War! Charlotte!!"
Floored by the spectacle, people rose instinctively from their seats, their cheers drowning out everything else.
[Ding! Leo's Favorability +10%. Romance Progress: 45%!] [Ding! Jax'sFavorability +20%, Romance Progress 55%!] [Ding! Capture Target Evan is experiencing intense emotional fluctuation! Affection Unlocked, Favorability +25%, Romance Progress 25%!]
As the last note faded, Charlotte stood in the center of the stage, her chest heaving, sweat mingling with the "scars" on her skin. Her gaze was predatory and commanding, like a queen ascending her throne.
She looked down at the judges. Leo watched her with a mix of awe and deep contemplation. Jax was flushed with excitement, clearly dying to scream to the world, "That's my student!"
And in her peripheral vision, she caught Emily standing in the shadows behind her—she looked like she'd been drained of all color.
Charlotte gripped the microphone and, still breathless, delivered her final appeal.
"They tried to take me off the board," she said, her voice steady and sharp, "but my armor is forged in fire, and it will never fall."
The screams from the audience nearly took the roof off the building.
History was being rewritten in real-time. The 'talentless airhead' died on that stage; the Valkyrie took her place. She was no longer the "talentless airhead" they loved to hate; she was the Valkyrie returned from hell—she was Charlotte.
The house lights came up, but the roar of the crowd continued to echo through the arena.
Group S03 remained on stage, awaiting the judges' critique. Charlotte stood at the center, her eyes burning with a steady light. Beside her, Emily struggled to maintain a sweet smile, though she looked like she'd seen a ghost.
Olivia looked completely gassed, having failed to keep up with Charlotte's tempo and stage presence, while Rachel was trembling with excitement, throwing Charlotte a look of pure gratitude.
Jax, unable to contain his enthusiasm any longer, was the first to grab the mic.
"Last time, I called you trash," he started, his eyes locked on hers. He paused. "Today... you proved me dead wrong. And honestly? I've never been happier to eat my words."
"You infused your dance with a soul that refuses to be crushed. That is real art."
Then, Jax's expression turned icy as he glanced at Emily and Olivia.
"As for the rest of you..." He rolled his eyes without hesitation. "Were you phoning it in?"
"Emily, you're ranked third. Why did you look like a backup dancer up there? Where was the power? The facial control? Standing next to Charlotte, You were a literal wallflower."
"And Olivia—if you're going to be that bad, practice more. Stop dragging the team down."
"Rachel, don't think that a lack of mistakes means perfection. Your lack of confidence is dragging you down. A dancer's greatest enemy is doubt."
"This sense of... destruction. It's beautiful," Evan added. He wasn't even looking at Charlotte's face; he was staring at the ripped fabric and the painted scars. "That fringe dress was originally quite tacky, but you gave it a whole new meaning."
"Especially when the lights exploded..." Evan looked up, finally meeting Charlotte's eyes. "In that moment, you were the only thing in my lens. Everyone else was just visual noise."
With that, Evan put down his mic, not sparing Emily so much as a glance.
Leo, sitting in the center, took the microphone. His gaze cut through the crowd, pinning Charlotte in place.
"Many will call tonight's performance an 'accident' or a 'masterpiece.'" He paused for a few seconds. "I'll just call it 'In a league of its own.'"
The crowd erupted again.
"A team with such uneven skill levels is usually a lost cause, no matter how hard they work," Leo said, his voice deep. "I'm not even going to address how you turned a group act into a one-woman show."
"But from a business perspective, you've doubled the value of this act. Talent is a dime a dozen in this industry, but the person who can make the audience stop and stare? That is a true king."
Leo's sharp gaze swept over the other members before returning to Charlotte.
"Charlotte..." he said, his voice resonant. "You earned that center spot. It belongs to you."