[ Wen Ning has never been invited to any sort of party before, let alone a costume party. He isn't about to ruin this chance by trying to get in without a costume! So he arrives wearing something a little more reminiscent of his Qishan Wen days, if the Qishan Wen lived in Victorian era England. He keeps to the edges of the dance floor, drinking non alcoholic punch and bobbing his head to the best of the music. He might be convinced to dance, if anyone feels like asking him. But otherwise he's happy just to observe, and be a part of the crowd. ]

When things go sour, it happens quickly. Wen Ning's does his best not to panic, but when it becomes clear that even his increased strength will not be enough to tear exit through the walls of the tent, he switches gears, instead committing himself to protecting others. When a firey shape erupts into being in the middle of the dancefloor, Wen Ning pulls whoever he can reach back away from it, telling them to get as far away from the flames as they can.

Only... That's not just a fire in the middle of the floor. There's the shape of a person inside it. She's so engulfed in flame, it's hard to make out any of her features. But her voice cuts through the roar of the inferno.

"A-Ning? A-Ning, are you there? Please, help me, I can't-- I- AIEEEYYYYAAAAAA!!!”

She screams in pain as she burns and it takes everything in Wen Ning's strength not to run to her. He couldn't save her then, and he knows he can't save her now, because she isn't here, just some ghost of her sent to torture him. Silent tears fall from his eyes, but he stays glued to the spot, unable to move either towards or away from the ghastly sight.