The creature lets go of Hope's wrist as soon as it can tell that there's something interesting happening. Hope, unfortunately, remains chained to the rhythm, dancing idly off into a corner without paying as much attention to things as they would like. When their feet turn them around, though, they see—

Holy crap, it's a Nova Knight. Oh god, they aren't alone here after all. They still can't transform themself, not until this dancing fever passes them by and their body starts responding the way it should, but there's relief creeping up behind their eyes.

It's a mirror to the sick glee building within the guy putting the "disco" in discontent. "You're the one treading on sacred ground—the dance floor! Come on," he-or-whatever says, and the antennae start to vibrate, pulsing out a number of rhythmic circles in stark black and white. "I know you Nova Knights can get funky with me."