Welcome to the Innocent World

The chilly air swept across the shore, curling around the coconut trees and sending their stem swaying in lazy arcs against the night sky. A few owls hooted low in the distance, their calls mingling with the steady crash of waves against the sand—a peaceful rhythm undercut by an eerie edge.

The metallic door stood under the trees, its surface solid, glinting faintly in the moonlight as three guards walked in front of it, their dark uniforms blending into the shadows. Two leaned casual against the concrete wall, guns loose in their hands, while the third stood rigid by the door, his posture sharp.

"Sighhh…" the first guard huffed, shifting his weight. "Three more days 'til this damn Island Event ends. I'm sick of standing out here every night—it's tiring as hell." His voice carried a lazy drawl.

"Yeah, you're right," the second guard chimed in, scratching at his stubbled chin as he leaned back, his rifle dangling from his shoulder. "And since yesterday, they've been on our asses to tighten security even more. Like we're not already bored out of our minds."

"I know, right?" the first one said, kicking at a clump of sand with his boot. "Wonder what went down. Heard the leader of A Division got killed in whatever happened—total mess." He smirked, shaking his head like it was some dark joke.

"More like he nuked himself to leave no trace to the entrance," the second guard snorted, his grin widening. "Boom—gone. Guy was nuts." the first guard joined in, their laughter bouncing off the trees.

"Oye, you two!" the third guard snapped, his voice cutting through their giggles like a blade.

He stood by the door, arms crossed, his face hard under the shadow of his cap. "Can you idiots stop chit-chatting and focus on the job? We're not here to gossip like a couple of old ladies." His tone was all business, no patience for their slacking, his eyes glinting with irritation.

"Yes, sir!" the two guards said in unison, snapping to attention, their boots digging into the sand as they straightened up quick.

The first one adjusted his grip on his gun, the second wiped the smirk off his face, and they both turned their eyes forward, trying to look like they gave a damn.

The serious guard gave them a nod, then let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the door, his head tipping like he was stealing a quick nap standing up. The other two exchanged a glance, smirking again but keeping it quiet this time, the shore falling back into that strange, tense calm—waves crashing, owls hooting, wind whispering through the trees.

Then, after a moment of silence, a new sound pierced the stillness—*click, click*—the sharp tap of heels against the sand, steady and deliberate. The guards' heads snapped up, their eyes narrowing as they peered into the dark, hands tightening on their weapons.

The first guard squinted, the second shifted his stance. A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the faint glow of the moonlight—Lyra, her blonde hair loose and swaying like a golden curtain in the breeze, her tight red dress hugging every curve, the cuts at her thighs and waist flashing skin with every step. She moved slow, deliberate, her hips swaying.

"Who the hell…?" the first guard muttered.

"Uh… evening, ma'am," the second guard stammered, blinking hard as he tried to keep his eyes on her face, failing as they flicked down to that dress. "You, uh… lost or something?"

Lyra didn't answer right away, just kept walking, her heels sinking into the sand with each *click*, her presence pulling their focus like a magnet.

The guards froze as Lyra stepped fully into view, her heels clicking to a stop in the sand.

"Heyy there, hello!" she called out, her voice bright and bubbly, a wide smile spreading across her lips as she waved a hand.

The two younger guards ahead blinked hard, their faces flushing red as they stared, caught off guard by her sudden appearance. "Yes? Uh… how can we help you, ma'am?" the first one stammered, his buddy nodding quick beside him, both of them fumbling for words like schoolboys.

Lyra tilted her head, her smile softening into something coy as she looked down, a faint blush coloring her cheeks—fake, but damn convincing.

"Actually…" she said, her voice dropping, "I wanted to tell you guys to comfort me… I just broke up with my boyfriend." She rubbed one leg against the other slow and seductive, her hands sliding up to twirl a strand of her hair, her hips swaying just enough to pull their eyes.

The wind tugged at her dress, rippling the fabric, and she bit her lip, playing it up like a pro.

"I-I see…" the second guard managed, his voice cracking as he swallowed hard, his gaze flicking to her legs, then back up, struggling to keep it together.

"But, uh, sorry, ma'am—we've gotta stay here. Guard duty, you know." He shifted his weight, his rifle swinging awkward in his grip, his buddy nodding like he was trying to back him up.

"Please…" Lyra pressed, stepping closer, her tone turning soft and needy as she batted her lashes at them. "Just a little bit would be fine… I don't wanna be alone tonight." She reached up, her fingers teasing the knot at her waist, and with a quick tug, she loosened it, the dress slipping open wider to expose more of her hip—smooth, bare skin glowing in the moonlight, daring them to look.

She flicked her eyes up, seductive and heavy, locking onto theirs with a slow, sultry glance that hit like a punch.

They gulped in unison, their mouths practically watering as they stared, their resolve crumbling fast. The first guard's jaw twitched, his eyes darting down her body, while the second licked his lips, his hands flexing around his gun like he was fighting a losing battle.

"Isn't this island…" Lyra added, her voice dropping to a purr as she stepped even closer, her scent—something floral and warm—drifting toward them, "the place of pleasure? Serving your guests? I'm a guest here too, you know." She tilted her head again, her hair spilling over one shoulder, her hips cocked just so, sealing the deal.

"Okay, let's go," the first guard blurted, tossing caution aside as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, his grin breaking wide like he'd just won a prize. He stepped forward, eager, his eyes locked on her.

"Oye, what about the gate?" the second guard hissed, grabbing his arm, his voice low but panicky as he nodded back toward the door where the third guard—Arthur—stood, still half-dozing against the metal.

The first guard waved him off, winking with a sly smirk. "We've got Arthur here—don't worry. He's strong enough to handle it. We'll just be over by the side trees, you know, taking care of her." His tone was all mischief, his eyes glinting as he jerked his head toward the shadows, already imagining what was coming.

"Sighhh… sure," the second guard relented, his own grin creeping out as he gave in, the tension melting into something greedy. "Fine, but make it quick."

Lyra didn't miss a beat, stepping between them with a little sway, letting them each grab her waist as they flanked her.

Their hands settled on her hips, rough and eager, her dress bunching under their fingers as she stood sandwiched between them, her smile turning triumphant.

"You boys are so sweet," she whispered, her voice dripping honey as she glanced between them, leading them off toward the side trees, their boots scuffing the sand as they followed like dogs on a leash.