(3rd Person POV)
The crowd at Liberty Port stood in growing curiosity, eyes fixed on the wide swaths of green fabric draped over buildings and scaffolding. Most assud it was Hellfire’s attempt to conceal the film set from the public.
But to their surprise, many managed to pass through the green fabric without resistance. They erged into a space where the port seed to pause—where ti itself felt like it was holding its breath for sothing extraordinary.
"Is Hellfire even allowed to do this?" soone in the crowd asked, eyeing the blocked-off area. "Aren’t they disrupting operations at the port?"
A bystander nearby replied, "From what I heard, Hellfire got permission. Liberty Port’s still running, but so sections were handed over for the shoot. Only designated zones are restricted."
As the explanation spread, the previously skeptical crowd began to understand. Police officers could be seen assisting the Hellfire staff—cordoning off sections, placing barriers, and redirecting foot traffic away from sensitive areas.
Still, even with the barriers and green walls, it was clear: people could see right through. The fabric wasn’t doing much to block visibility.
One officer, watching the crowd from behind the cordon, frowned and nudged his partner. "This green wall’s not exactly doing a great job keeping the set hidden."
His partner nodded, gesturing toward the onlookers. "Yeah, look at that. They’ve got a front-row view. This thing might as well be tissue paper."
Many nodded in agreent.
But then, sothing strange happened.
The green fabric began to shimr. At first, the glow was subtle—barely a flicker—but one officer squinted and leaned in. "Am I seeing things... or is that thing glowing?"
His coworkers turned, and sure enough, the green walls across the entire port began to pulse with a soft magical light—runes faintly dancing along the surface.
Gasps rose from the crowd.
And then—without warning—the green walls vanished.
Not torn down. Not lowered. Simply gone.
The crowd blinked, stunned.
"Wait—where did it go?"
"What the hell? Did it... turn invisible?"
People looked around in confusion, but before long, soone pointed at the buildings behind where the green walls had been.
"Wait a minute... those buildings... they don’t look right."
Another spoke up, "I’ve lived here all my life—those weren’t there yesterday."
"Is this still Liberty Port?" soone muttered, awe creeping into their voice.
They suddenly realized sothing strange—the buildings they were looking at now didn’t match what they rembered. In fact, everything looked too perfect, too clean. And most notably, the crowd that had been behind the green walls monts ago had vanished.
Onboard the Titanic, those watching from the upper decks were stunned.
"Did those green walls just... replace the buildings?" a sailor murmured to himself, gripping the railing. "Is it so kind of magic?"
Speculation ran wild among the crew and cast. So wondered aloud if the green fabric was a powerful magical artifact, capable of reshaping reality itself.
Then a voice echoed across the ship.
Arthur stood at the bow, holding a microphone. His calm but commanding tone reverberated through enchanted speakers.
"Filming will begin shortly. All actors and extras, please disembark and report to your designated positions on set."
Despite their confusion, the cast and crew obeyed. One by one, they descended from the ship, curiosity tugging at them as strongly as the call to action.
Among them, Dane and Abel moved closer to one of the unfamiliar buildings.
Sothing felt... off.
The air, the lighting, the way shadows clung to the architecture—it was too perfect.
Dane narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. He reached out and brushed his hand against the wall.
His fingers t fabric.
He gasped. "It’s the green wall!" he exclaid, gripping a corner and lifting it ever so slightly.
Behind it—the real world. The crowd was still there, watching in awe.
He turned the fabric over. The back was the sa matte green as before.
"So it’s all... an illusion," Dane whispered.
One by one, other actors and extras who had wandered close ca to the sa realization. Whispers turned into astonished murmurs.
They were all awestruck.
Even the prideful Princess Rika and her entourage stood speechless, caught off guard by the illusion’s realism. None of them had expected that the simple green curtain could conceal such powerful magic.
Rika folded her arms and muttered under her breath, "That’s... a neat trick."
In the distance, Arthur walked toward the set with Firfel and Apollonia beside him. The expressions on people’s faces—shock, awe, fascination—didn’t go unnoticed.
Apollonia looked around with wide eyes, her voice filled with wonder. "Even though I already knew about the Green Screen... seeing it used on this scale still blows away."
Firfel smiled at her enthusiasm. "With this setup, we can turn any open space into a VFX studio. No need to stay locked in post-production studios anymore."
Apollonia nodded, but Arthur’s eyes were focused ahead. The quiet smile on his lips faded as he stepped toward the director’s chair prepared by the crew. The mont he sat, his deanor shifted.
"Everyone, stand by," Arthur’s voice rang clear, now amplified by the mic. "Extras, crew, actors—prepare to move into position. Shooting begins shortly."
The atmosphere changed instantly. Crew mbers scrambled into place. Actors straightened their backs. Even Rika and her noble friends, despite their earlier entitlent, joined the others with excited grins—as if swept into the thrill of the mont.
Onlookers at the port watched in awe as the massive production ca to life before their eyes.
"Look at that," one whispered. "Thousands of people working together... for a movie."
"It’s like watching a city prepare for battle," another murmured. "Only... they’re fighting with caras."
Security held back the crowds as journalists and photographers captured every angle they could.
Near Arthur, a group of actors huddled together. Firfel stood with them, her presence grounding the group. She smiled and addressed them gently but firmly, "We’ve rehearsed this for weeks. So of you are new, and it’s okay to be nervous—but rember your lines, your training, and most importantly, your passion."
The group nodded, visibly encouraged.
Among them, Dane took a deep breath, his earlier nerves settling. Beside him stood Delaney Fisher, older than most and clearly anxious. Once a mistress to a rich noble, she had risked it all to audition—and unexpectedly landed a role. Her heart raced.
But as Firfel smiled warmly at her, Delaney stood a little straighter.
Abel, too, felt a surge of confidence thanks to Firfel’s calming presence. ’Her smile... it’s so beautiful,’ he thought, stealing a glance at her. ’No wonder Arthur’s so drawn to her.’
He took a steadying breath, shifting into his role. To portray his character convincingly, he had to believe he was Caledon Hockley—wealthy, refined, possessive. A man who admired Rose but never truly loved her.
To make the performance real, he had to beco the role.
His concentration was interrupted by a soft, composed voice.
"Everyone seems quite focused now..."
Abel turned to see a tall elven woman approaching—her posture graceful, her presence commanding. Though nearing 300 years, Lady Velmira still carried herself with strength and vitality. Her silver-white hair shimred under the set lighting.
"Lady Velmira," Abel greeted respectfully, bowing his head.
Others followed suit. While she wasn’t a known figure in cinema, her reputation as a legendary theatre actress from the Lunar Kingdom preceded her. More than that, they had all witnessed her during rehearsal—precise, powerful, and completely imrsed in her craft.
Firfel, especially, held deep admiration for her. The conversations they’d shared over the past few days had left a strong impression.
Velmira gave them a warm smile. "How is everyone feeling?" she asked gently. "Back in the theatre, we didn’t believe in nerves. There was only the performance—and the responsibility to give it our all."
The actors nodded, her words steadying the air like a mantra. Confidence slowly replaced hesitation.
Then, a sharp clap rang out—Arthur’s cue.
"Caras in position. Mic checks are clear," he called. "We’ll start rolling in one minute!"
Tension rippled across the set. The actors took their marks. Extras moved into place.
As the seconds ticked down, everyone fell into stillness. The extras froze in mid-motion, like living mannequins. The transformation was uncanny.
Onlookers held their breath.
Then, Arthur raised his hand and shouted—
"Action!"
Like a current flowing through a city, movent surged across the port. The extras ca to life, chatting, walking, unloading crates, bustling like a real crowd.
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