The Art of the Perfect Distraction

Elara waited in the shadows, her heart pounding with the rhythm of impending chaos. Marisol and Felix had one job: distract Eirik. That's it. Simple, right? Except when it came to Eirik, "simple" was a concept as foreign as dragons on roller skates.

[They're late,] the System chimed in, its tone somehow managing to sound smug. [Maybe Eirik killed them. Honestly, wouldn't blame him. Felix is about as charming as a soggy napkin, and Marisol well, let's just say diplomacy isn't her strong suit.]

"Shut up," Elara hissed under her breath. "They'll be here."

[Sure they will,] the System replied dryly. [Right after pigs start breakdancing in the lobby.]

Elara clenched her fists, considering whether it was possible to strangle a disembodied voice. As if summoned by her growing frustration, Marisol's voice suddenly rang out from the hallway.

"Oh, look! The walking embodiment of bad decisions and cologne poisoning. Right on schedule."