"When a clown moves into a palace, he doesn't become a king. The palace becomes a circus."
These words were scrawled boldly across a massive board hung on the third floor of the towering circus-like fortress. Beneath the sign, vibrant lights flickered and whimsical music played, masking the danger that lingered in the air. Beneath that sign, two clown-dressed pirates attempted to walk in, their curly green and blue wigs bouncing with each exaggerated step.
"Stop right there," a sharp voice called out.
"Huh? Registration again?" Tyler asked, voice muffled under the squeaky red nose and painted smile. He tilted his head like a confused jester.
The man who stopped them wore magician-like attire—complete with a swirling cape and star-embroidered top hat. He looked them up and down with visible disdain. "Hmph. Are you two even worth it? This isn't a floor for newbies. Get lost."
