Seeing the situation, Rex didn't panic. Not even a flicker of awkwardness crossed his face. His mentality had evolved far beyond the point of being flustered by flashing lights and sudden attention. After all, he'd spent what amounted to decades inside the system space, training with legends, absorbing wisdom, and honing a mindset sharp enough to cut through embarrassment like a knife through silk. Paparazzi? Public attention? Please—this was beginner level.
Instead, he did what any polished, battle-hardened protagonist would do—he smiled. Not just any smile, though. A dazzling, Hollywood-grade, soul-piercing kind of smile that looked like it had been carefully Photoshopped onto his face by fate itself. It was so radiant, it practically had its own theme music.
Gasps followed like a chorus. Jaws dropped in perfect harmony. And as expected, the flashes intensified as the paparazzi entered full-on attack mode. Somewhere, someone even dropped their phone.
