A Sparkly Solution

The disco ball. Of all the places, *the disco ball*. It hung there, a magnificent, glittering monstrosity in the middle of the town hall’s dusty storage room, just daring me to look too closely. Leo, bless his video-game-addled brain, was bouncing on the balls of his feet, practically vibrating with the sheer *epicness* of the situation.

“Whoa, Elara! This is like, the ultimate boss level!” he whispered, eyes wide, as if the disco ball itself might suddenly sprout tentacles and demand we defeat it in a quick-time event.

I, on the other hand, felt a nervous flutter in my stomach, like a flock of tiny, overcaffeinated butterflies had taken up residence. The air around the disco ball thrummed with a faint, almost mournful energy, laced with something else… anticipation? And yes, definitely a hint of… stale flour?