Thankfully, this time around, no one fell victim to Yone's sadistic tendencies, and everyone was spared from having their name written in the dreaded Black Notebook.
Yes. They had all learned the hard way.
So now? Every single member was in the dance studio with a couple of minutes to spare.
Growth.
Kitty, however, had a breakthrough.
He proudly set his makeup kit down in the corner.
"Why didn't I think of this before?" he gasped dramatically. "I'm such a genius. Yaaassss!"
Pink didn't even look up from stretching.
"Keep telling yourself that, hennie. Maybe if you manifest hard enough, a miracle will happen and you'll actually become one."
Kitty paused mid–foundation pump.
"…Maybe I should do that," he said thoughtfully, the sarcasm soaring miles above his head.
Pink just blinked slowly.
And just like that, Kitty happily began applying waterproof makeup like he was about to survive a monsoon instead of a rehearsal.
Around them, everyone started stretching. The energy slowly shifted from chaotic to focused.
Yone clapped his hands once, firm and sharp.
The room quieted immediately.
"We already know how important this performance is," he said evenly. "That means we can't settle for anything less than our best."
He scanned the group.
"So. Any concepts? Ideas? What direction do we want to take?"
Everyone actually started thinking.
"How about a surf party concept?" Eli offered.
Silas stared at him.
"It's the end of the year. It's winter. In Korea," Silas deadpanned. "I am not freezing my ass off for aesthetic."
Several heads nodded vigorously.
"Fair," Eli muttered.
"What about something edgy?" Mika suggested.
"Overdone," Corsair replied immediately. "And doesn't E:Den's debut have a similar vibe?"
"I don't know," Ryu chimed in dramatically, placing a hand over his face. "They just looked like a bunch of try-hard edge lords. Severe case of chūnibyō."
He slowly raised his head, voice dropping theatrically.
"Ugh… the curse in my left eye awakens… it demands chaos… and possibly a virgin sacrifice—"
The studio exploded into laughter.
"Dude!" Nikola recoiled, hugging himself like he'd just seen something illegal. "What the hell was that?!"
"I support cringe," Monarch said calmly. "But that was advanced level."
"Stop!" Leo groaned, covering his face. "You're reminding me of my dark childhood."
That made the laughter even worse.
And honestly?
Knowing Leo?
It wouldn't be shocking if he did have a dramatic chūnibyō phase at some point.
The studio buzzed with noise, ideas flying, jokes overlapping.
But beneath the chaos—
There was focus.
Because this wasn't just a stage.
It was a statement.
****
"But you guys aren't wrong though," Kang Ian said, running a hand through his hair. "I watched the MV last night and… it was hella fucked up."
Nox perked up immediately. "Hmm? I haven't seen it. Don't know if I want to. Fucked up how?"
Kang Ian frowned slightly. "That's the thing. I can't even explain it properly. It just… feels wrong. Like something's off."
He looked genuinely unsettled by his own inability to describe it.
"I think it's the concept," Isaac spoke up quietly.
Heads turned.
Isaac was still adjusting to city life. Sometimes he stumbled over slang, sometimes he felt a step behind the fast-talking chaos of the group. But when he spoke?
People listened.
There was something steady about him. Honest. Unfiltered.
"I came across the MV while doing some research," Isaac continued, his soft Alabama drawl filling the room. "And I won't lie… it creeped me out."
He hesitated.
"I don't know if it's because I was raised Christian, but they used a lot of Christian imagery. And then… for lack of a better word… it felt like they were straight up blaspheming."
The room went quieter.
Kang Ian snapped his fingers. "Yeah. That's it. I'm not even religious like that, but it just made me uncomfortable."
"Now I'm even more curious," Nox muttered.
"You guys want to watch it?" Yone suggested calmly. "It'll help us understand what we're up against. They're performing too."
There were nods all around.
Some had seen it. Some hadn't. Either way, it was better to go in informed.
Leo, the unofficial tech mule of the group, immediately pulled out his laptop. And by "tech guy," they really meant: he was always the one carrying gadgets for absolutely no reason.
He connected it to his portable projector.
"Why do you even have that?" Monarch asked once.
"For gaming," Leo had replied.
No one questioned it after that.
"What's the song called?" Leo asked now, proving he had been blissfully detached from anything non–game related.
"Forbidden Fruit," Ahn Jae answered.
Leo typed it in.
The MV appeared instantly at the top of the search results.
But what made Leo physically pause were the numbers.
His eyes widened.
"Uh… guys?"
The view count glared back at them.
35 million views.
In one month.
Now, was that impossible? No. If you were someone like Adele or BTS, sure.
But for a rookie group?
That kind of explosive growth was… suspicious.
And honestly?
A little unnatural.
"HOLY shit," Mika breathed when he saw it too. "I knew they were big, but not this big."
Leo slowly clicked on the video.
The studio lights dimmed as the projector filled the wall.
Everyone instinctively quieted.
Eyes locked in.
No jokes.
No side comments.
Just focus.
The intro began to play.
And whatever discomfort they'd felt before?
It started creeping back in.
****
The MV opened in a vast, overgrown garden.
At its center stood a massive tree heavy with crimson apples.
Then the beat dropped.
Hard. Aggressive. Unapologetic.
And E:Den didn't walk into frame.
They slithered.
Their upper bodies bare, skin painted with intricate scale designs that crawled across their faces, arms, and torsos. Snake-like contacts turned their eyes into something predatory.
From the first second, it was obvious.
They weren't just referencing a serpent.
They were selling it.
And not just any serpent.
A seductive one.
As the video progressed, the discomfort in the studio thickened.
Now everyone understood what Kang Ian and Isaac meant.
Even the Kweens—who normally would've been screaming over eight ripped men with abs for days—were silent.
Arms crossed.
Faces twisted in visible disgust.
Then came the wrecking ball.
One member swung across the garden, demolishing the tree while singing, "What's really good and evil?"
Subtlety? Dead.
Another scene cut to a long banquet table—undeniably modeled after the Last Supper—but the imagery was warped. Bodies draped over each other in what they boldly framed as "avant-garde art," but to anyone watching, it was just an aestheticized orgy with a religious backdrop.
Then came the crucifix.
One member pressed against it in a way that erased any room for interpretation.
Another scene showed a woman dressed as a nun—except no real nun dressed like that. It looked like a cheap, hyper-sexualized Halloween costume, fabric barely doing its job.
Behind her stood Kang Seo-yul.
Painted like the serpent he embodied.
He leaned close, whispering lyrics into her ear while she reacted theatrically. His hands roamed possessively, the implication crystal clear even if nothing explicit was shown.
Everything was framed as consensual. As bold. As boundary-pushing.
But stripped of the styling and dramatic lighting?
It was provocation disguised as depth.
Shock value masquerading as philosophy.
The final shot sealed it.
A bird's-eye view.
Kang Seo-yul lay on the ground, smirking directly into the camera.
Around him sprawled the other members.
Scattered among them were nude women.
And piles of nude men stacked unnaturally, limbs tangled, as blood pooled beneath them.
It didn't take a theologian to decode it.
Eve choosing the serpent.
Adam destroyed.
It was twisted.
Disturbing at best.
Vomit-inducing at worst.
The screen went black.
Silence filled the studio.
"What the hell did I just watch?" Monarch muttered, instinctively making the sign of the cross.
"I REBUKE THEE!" Pink yelled at the screen like it might crawl out and bite him.
Kang Ian rubbed his face. "Now you get what I'm saying?"
"No," Nox replied faintly. "It was worse."
"There's no way they're allowed to perform that concept live, right?" Eli asked.
Aqua exhaled slowly. "We're dealing with a nepo baby. Anything's possible."
"E:Den crossed so many lines," Jordan said quietly.
Leo leaned back in his chair. "Unfortunately? People will just call it art."
He stared at the blank projection screen.
"Art is subjective. History's full of artists who crossed boundaries and got praised for it. If you slap 'conceptual' on something, someone out there will defend it."
He paused.
"So what even are boundaries when it comes to artistry?"
That question lingered in the air.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Is anything allowed… as long as it's called art?