Cobalt's head felt as though it was filled with static. His ears buzzed, his eyes throbbed, and his throat was parched and aching. He knew that he had been knocked to the floor, but for the life of him he could just not summon the energy to haul himself back to his feet. The massive electrical discharge from Whitney had just utterly drained him.

"Agh... Heart still beating, kid?" Lilith groaned, sounding just as pained.

He murmured noncommittally in response.

"Right... Get off your ass; let's put this chick out of commission before she accidentally kills you, her parents or herself."

Though he direly wished she would word that differently, Cobalt realised that the Devil had a point. Wincing, he planted his elbow against the floor and carefully eased himself up, hissing through his teeth as his joints ached in protest.

"Ooh, he's awake!" piped a voice to his left.

"Cancel that ambulance, he's okay!" called a second to his right.

"Did we even, like, call for an ambulance...?" whispered a third.

"I'd hope so; that was a pretty hard fall!" laughed a fourth.

Cobalt swallowed hard, his eyelids still glued shut. He could hear the sound of bodies moving all around him, and the hushed whispers of many more voices echoed throughout the room. Taking a deep breath, he carefully opened his eyes, unsure of what to expect.

The Incubus nearly leaped out of his skin upon seeing a Nymph's face hovering a mere few inches from his own. He scrambled back against the wall in an effort to make some distance, nearly hitting his head off a side table.

"Sir? Are you okay?" she asked, standing up straight.

Cobalt was unable to answer, too dumbfounded by the woman standing in front of him to even formulate a response.

Whitney Brode stood to attention in front of him, dressed in an neat maid's outfit, complete with a white cap. More surprising, however, was the fact that her hair long and golden, just as it was when he first met her. As he gawked with wide eyes, she lifted her skirts and politely curtsied.

She lifted her skirts. With both hands.

"Wh- What...?!" he breathed.

"You alright, sir?" asked another, identical voice to his left.

He whipped his head around to see another two Nymphs standing by the table. One wore an elegant ball gown, while the other was wearing a black tuxedo. Both looked identical to Whitney, and - like the maid - had both of their hands.

"Wh- Whitney?" Cobalt stammered.

"Yes?" they both responded, twitching their elfin ears.

"What the fuck...?" Lilith breathed, sounding just as lost as Cobalt was.

Clambering to his feet, the Incubus leaned against the side table in an effort to steady himself, his body still twitching a little from the sudden influx of electricity. Blinking his vision clear, he squinted his eyes and peered around the Brode's dining hall.

The place had completely changed in the brief span of time that he had been unconscious. The grand central table was gone, replaced instead by an open dancefloor surrounded by tables covered in drinks and canapes. Silver ornaments and golden silks were draped across the walls, and classical music hummed through the air. But most disturbing of all was the fact that filling the hall were many, many more Nymphs.

And they all looked, sounded and acted exactly like Whitney Brode.

Some were dressed as members of high society who danced and chatted with one another, while others garbed in servant clothes busied themselves with cleaning up after their guests, handing out food and standing to attention with their heads gently bowed. At the far end of the hall, a stage had been set up where a small chamber orchestra - comprised entirely of Whitney clones - dutifully played their instruments, conducted by a Whitney in a tailcoat.

Furthermore, they were all sporting long blonde hair and two hands.

"Kid, tell me you're seeing this too," Lilith asked quietly.

"I... I think... I don't know what I'm seeing..." he breathed, gawking around the hall.

"Sir? Are you feeling better?" the maid Whitney asked, looking into his eyes.

"U- Um, I- yes. I, um... yes, I'm fine," he stuttered, struggling to remain calm.

"Very good, sir! Enjoy the ball!"

Curtseying once more, she scuttled off to attend to another Whitney, leaving Cobalt bewildered. As he glanced from one identical Nymph to the other, a Whitney dressed in a sequined suit walked over to him, sighing as she swirled a glass full of wine.

"The help leaves, like, a lot to be desired, don't you think?" she asked with an overdramatic roll of her eyes.

She was wearing a monocle.

"Sorry?" Cobalt asked.

"The drudgery. They're a bit... what's the word..." she continued, making a vague gesture with her other hand.

"I... Whitney?"

"Yes?"

"What, um... What's going on, exactly?"

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She raised an eyebrow.

"You mean you don't know? The biggest event of, like, the year and you don't even know what it is?"

"I think that's the case...?

With a chuckle and a scoff, the dandy Whitney sipped her drink and nodded at her dancing doubles all around them.

"Well, if you must know, it's a joint debut. We're here to witness two ladies' first steps into high society. They really~ must be struggling if they have to do the pair of them at once," she explained with a sardonic smile.

Cobalt cocked his head, reaching levels of confusion he didn't even know was possible.

"Not to be, like, rude, but if you'd actually died or something then at least I'd have an excuse to go home. We still have that nonsense to go with the roses and I for one am totally dreading it."

"Who's debut did you say this was?" he asked.

"Oh you know. Lady Whitney and Madam Brode."

He stared at her.

"I'm sorry?"

Rather than respond, she just bumped her shoulder into his and nodded at the doors to the dining hall. A pair of butlers were pulling them open, allowing a veritable flood of maid Whitneys to skitter into the hall. The chamber orchestra ceased their playing as the maids began to hand out crimson roses to the various attendees of the ball. The guests quickly organised themselves around the edges of the hall, bustling and pushing Cobalt into place before he even knew what was going on. Two of the maids scuttled over to him and hurriedly pressed a rose into each hand, bowing and running off before he thought to ask them what the Hell was happening.

"Right. Roll with it, find an opening, slip away so we can get our bearings," Lilith told him in a very matter-of-fact tone.

The Incubus stared at the two red roses in his hands, feeling uncomfortable at the mere sight of them.

"Yeah, sure..."

As the rose-bearing maids lined up in rows by the doors, a single Whitney dressed as a footman rolled a red carpet out. Reaching for an ornate scroll by her belt, she dramatically unrolled it, cleared her throat, and stood to attention.

Everyone - Cobalt and Whitneys alike - went dead silent.

"Ahem! May I please have your undivided attention as I present to you... Lady Whitney and Madam Brode!" the footman Whitney announced to the hall.

She tucked the scroll beneath her arm and joined the other servants by the carpet as a pair of individuals stepped into the dining hall, their arrival heralded by the orchestra picking up their instruments once more.

Cobalt's eyes widened as he laid eyes upon the two newcomers. There was something different about these two.

The first carried herself with an air of confidence, winking to the guests as she stepped into the light of the crystal chandeliers. Her golden hair was tied back and filled with glittering diamonds, exposing both of her deep green eyes. Her form-fitting dress was a daring black, and left very little to the imagination. Giving the audience a twirl, she raised a gloved hand and blew an imaginary kiss to them all.

The second seemed more reserved in her demeanour, but nonetheless elegant. Her hair hung straight and long, and the wide-brimmed hat upon her head cast shadows into her one visible eye, giving her an aura of mystique. She wore a stylish suit, and as her companion preened herself for the audience, she just sighed and checked her watch, exposing the pincushion strapped to her wrist. It looked both fashionable and functional.

"You sure that's the same girl, kid?"

"I'm... not sure."

They both looked like Whitney - undyed hair and intact limbs notwithstanding - but the way they were acting, with one begging for attention and the other lording herself above everyone...

They were behaving just how the Nymph used to, before she met Cobalt.

As the musicians began to play a traditional Nymph dancing song, the two debutantes turned to one another and joined hands. Lady Whitney grinned at her dance partner in the same way one would smile at an unpleasant coworker, while Madam Brode visibly sighed and turned her face away. With careful, practiced steps, the pair began to dance around the hall, their feet never once missing a beat. With the entire hall's attention focused on the debutantes, Cobalt considered slipping away to find somewhere private so he could collect himself, but before such a plan could be put into action the two Whitneys suddenly separated.

Spinning in tandem, they each selected someone from the crowd and began to dance with them, mirroring each other as they spun in opposite directions.

"Alright, I'll admit it; I'm completely lost. What the fuck's going on?" Lilith sighed, sounding a little irritated.

Cobalt squinted as the debutantes finished their brief waltz and selected two new partners. Those they picked out from the crowd were holding roses, which the debutantes collected from them as they danced. Some form of ritual, perhaps?

As the music swelled as the dance continued, they both gradually amassed a bouquet of crimson roses in their arms. Despite the bunches of thorny flowers, neither missed a beat, and judging by the disparaging glances they kept shooting each other, each was counting on the other to screw up somehow.

Cobalt just stared on, taken by fascination. By the time Lady Whitney and Madam Brode gathered up the last of the roses and turned their gazes to him, he suddenly realised that he had lost any opportunity to escape.

"Oh-"

Lady Whitney, grinning disarmingly, twirled towards him, gliding across the dancefloor as she grabbed his left arm. Right as she did, however, Madam Brode quickly swooped in, snatching the Incubus' right arm. Taking the roses from his hands, the pair glared at one another. Despite clinging quite tightly to him, their grips were surprisingly weak. Cobalt could barely feel them.

More importantly, they were both wearing gloves, arousing his suspicion.

"Well now, isn't this a surprise," Lady Whitney laughed, batting her eyelashes at her rival.

Madam Brode raised the brim of her hat.

"Surprise? I thought you planned this out; we all know how much you love a scandal."

"Dunno what you're talking about, darling~!"

"Tch, sure."

Giggling, Lady Whitney turned her gaze onto Cobalt. He wasn't one to judge, but there was a carefully calculated airheadedness to how she acted that set him off-guard.

"Hey, glad you could make it, sir. Sorry about the mix-up; you were supposed to to dance with me, not this spoilsport," she said in a sickly-sweet tone, pulling him closer to her.

Narrowing her eyes, Madam Brode jerked him over to her side. The way she carried herself was equally as off-putting; like a socialite who genuinely believed she was better than everyone else.

"Don't listen to her, sir. I chose you as my dance partner. She just likes screwing everything up for me," she said curtly, glaring daggers at her rival.

Lady Whitney's giggles grew louder.

"Oho, you sure you didn't, like, screw everything up for yourself? You seem to be good at that, as far as I can remember?"

"I don't fail at anything. I know I specifically chose to end my entrance with Mr. Trayer, because I'm thorough, and I don't leave everything to other people. Unlike someone I could mention."

"That stings~! Why'd you have to be so frumpy?"

"Why do you have to be so brainless?"

Glancing from one Whitney to the other, Cobalt found himself feeling a little overwhelmed. This was all getting to be a little bit too much. Clearing his throat, he drew both of their gazes back to him.

"E- Excuse me, um... ladies. Could I just say something very quickly?" he asked in a small voice.

The two Whitneys stared at him expectantly. Their eyes, despite being literally the exact same, still exuded completely different emotions.

"Could I please be excused to go to the restroom?"

Madam Brode raised an eyebrow.

"Now? Really?" she asked in an irritated tone.

"Come on, let the man go; you're scaring him with all your..." Lady Whitney interjected.

She vaguely gestured to her fellow debutante's entire body, earning her an annoyed glare.

"Fine. But be quick; we're on a schedule," the suited Whitney sighed, letting go of Cobalt's arm.

Released from their gentle grasps, the Incubus quickly made a beeline for the doors, almost knocking into the contingent of maid Whitneys that still stood to attention by the red carpet. When he glanced back at the debutantes, Lady Whitney gave him a flirtatious wave while Madam Brode just urged him to hurry up.

Swallowing hard, he turned sharply on his heel and took off towards stairs down the hall, feeling as though he was going completely insane.

"This is fucked," Lilith breathed as he escaped the dining hall.

"For once I think I agree."