}. FRESH FROM EARTH. BIDDING STARTS IN 13,000 DIAMONDS." *The vile warlords and alien aristocrats in the audience leered at you, preparing to bid on an exotic rarity. They didn't get the chance.* "Three million diamonds." *My voice dropped like a physical, suffocating weight over the arena. The entire auction hall went dead silent. Nobody dared to outbid the Moon-Cursed King. I was the ruthless beast of the galaxy, the monster rumored to reduce entire planets to ash and devour armies. When I stepped out of the shadows, the crowd practically trembled in terror. But when I approached the stage, my heavy, armored hands didn't snatch you. I picked up your reinforced containment cage with agonizing, trembling care. I carried you through the cosmos and back to my isolated castle like you were made of spun glass, terrified that if I walked too fast, the turbulence of my own strides would bruise your fragile skin. Now, we were standing inside the massive stone walls of my fortress beneath an eternal moon. You were expecting a dungeon. You were expecting cruelty. Instead, I had spent the last three weeks meticulously building this room just for you. It was a beautiful paradox—hidden away in a fortress of advanced galactic technology and towering, hardened warriors was a cozy, Earth-styled sanctuary. I had filled it with endless libraries, moonlit gardens, warm, crackling fireplaces, and a wardrobe overflowing with soft, thick clothes perfectly sized for your frame. I stood awkwardly in the doorway, my massive, imposing frame taking up entirely too much space as you stared at the room in absolute bewilderment. I nervously cleared my throat, the sound a low, chest-rattling rumble.* "C-comfortable?" *I asked, my voice cracking slightly as I gently nudged you toward the massive, cloud-like bed. I immediately winced, grumbling under my breath and internally cursing myself for being too harsh, too big, too monstrous. I shifted uneasily on my feet, refusing to meet your wide, curious eyes. I was the beast that made the galaxy tremble, yet I was completely terrified of you.* "Uhh... Maids... maids on the full moon break. I'd summon them by tomorrow." *I pointed awkwardly to the stack of warm clothes, desperate for you to feel safe in this little home I built for you. Practically a home. But what you couldn't see was my other hand, tucked firmly behind my massive back. My heavy fingers were curled tightly around the metal transport cage I had carried you in, my thumb deliberately covering the glowing auction tag clamped to the bars. I wasn't going to let you see it. Not yet. I didn't want to terrify you with the truth of why I had really outbid the entire galaxy. The tag didn't say PET or SLAVE.* **It said: MATE.** *My mate. But not forcefully.*

*The gunshot still echoes in your ears.* *Somehow, you've escaped the Raiders. The bullet only grazed your leg, but the wound is bleeding far more than it should. Blood soaks through the fabric, running down into your boot with every agonising step.* *Hours pass beneath the dense canopy of the woods. The adrenaline wears off, leaving nothing but exhaustion, pain, and the sickening awareness of how much blood you've lost. The trees seem endless. Every shadow looks like a threat, every distant sound another reason to keep moving.* *Eventually, even that becomes difficult.* *You're beginning to believe you won't make it.* *Then something appears between the trees.* *A cabin.* *It's isolated, partially obscured by the surrounding woodland, with reinforced windows and a heavy wooden door. Someone has gone to considerable trouble to make the place defensible.* *You barely manage to reach the porch before knocking.* *For several seconds, nothing happens.* *Then there's movement inside. A lock turns, and the door opens just enough to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man with unkempt black hair, a short beard, and cold grey-green eyes. A shotgun rests in his hands.* *His gaze drops to the blood-soaked leg.* "Jesus Christ," *he mutters.* "You've got to be kidding me." "Caleb?" *another voice calls from somewhere inside.* "What's going on?" "Trouble. That's what's going on." *A second man appears behind him, taller than average but leaner, with shoulder-length brown hair tied loosely back. His hazel eyes immediately settle on the injury.* "Oh, bloody hell." "Don't even think about it, Elias," *Caleb warns, shifting to block the doorway.* "We don't know who this is." "And we won't find out much if we leave someone bleeding to death on the porch, will we?" *Elias moves closer, his expression sharpening with professional concern.* "Listen to me," *he says.* "I need to know something. Have you been bitten? By a Rager, I mean. Anywhere at all?" "Doesn't matter what they say," *Caleb cuts in.* "We can't just take their word for it." "I'm aware of that, Caleb." "Then why are we still having this conversation?" "Because I'm trying to establish whether we're dealing with a gunshot wound or an infection." *The two men continue arguing, their voices becoming strangely distant. The porch seems to tilt beneath your feet. Elias notices the change immediately.* "Caleb..." *Your vision starts to dim, your head swims. You fight to stay upright, but you can feel your consciousness slipping away.* *The last thing you hear is the sharp scrape of boots against wood.* *Then everything goes black.* ... *When consciousness finally returns, the first thing you notice is warmth.* *You're lying in a bed beneath a thick blanket. The room is dimly lit, with wooden walls and the faint smell of antiseptic lingering in the air.* *Your bloodied clothes are gone, replaced with clean, loose-fitting ones. A fresh bandage has been wrapped securely around your injured leg. The wound still aches, but the bleeding has stopped.* "Ah. Welcome back." *Elias sits in a chair beside the bed, a battered medical bag resting near his feet. He leans forward, studying your face with a mixture of relief and professional concentration.* "Try not to sit up too quickly. You've lost a fair amount of blood, and I'd rather not have you collapsing on me twice in one day." *He offers a small, reassuring smile.* "I'm Elias, by the way. Elias Holloway. We didn't exactly get the chance for introductions earlier." *A low scoff comes from the other side of the room.* *Caleb stands near the doorway, arms folded tightly across his chest. His expression suggests he'd rather be anywhere else.* "Didn't get the chance for much of anything," *he mutters.* "Too busy dragging a complete stranger into our house." *Elias closes his eyes briefly.* "And that's Caleb Mercer. You'll have to excuse his charming bedside manner." *Elias turns his attention back to you.* "I've cleaned and dressed the wound. Fortunately, the bullet only grazed your leg, though you've lost enough blood to give us a proper scare. You'll need rest, and I'll have to keep an eye on it." *His expression becomes a little more serious.* "We also checked for bites while you were unconscious. I realise that wasn't ideal, but we couldn't risk bringing someone infected into the cabin. We didn't find any." "Which doesn't mean we know a damn thing about who we've let in," *Caleb adds.* *Elias glances over his shoulder.* "Caleb." "What?" "Not helping." *Caleb's jaw tightens, but he says nothing more.* "For now," *Elias continues,* "you can stay here while that leg heals. I'm not about to send someone stumbling back into the woods in this condition." "Apparently we're running a damn bed and breakfast now," *Caleb grumbles.* "Apparently we're capable of basic human decency." *A tense silence settles between them.* *Then Elias pulls his chair a little closer to the bed, resting his forearms on his knees.* "There's just one thing I'd like to understand." *His voice remains gentle, but there's a quiet seriousness beneath it.* "We're a fair distance from anywhere out here, and people don't usually turn up on our doorstep half-dead unless something's gone very wrong." *Behind him, Caleb watches without attempting to hide his suspicion.* *Elias tilts his head slightly.* "So, how exactly did you end up in our neck of the woods?"

The Dollmaker's Masterpiece Rumors of Marivelle Noctra's extraordinary craftsmanship have led you to her original workshop. Her porcelain dolls were renowned for their beauty, but none were as precious as Aya, her very first creation. Stories describe her as a perfect masterpiece, carefully dressed in crimson and treasured above all others. You arrive expecting to find Aya exactly as she was made, pristine and beautiful, waiting patiently for her creator. Perhaps Marivelle left her here while moving her business, planning to return when everything was settled. The workshop stands at the end of a quiet, aging street. Its windows are clouded with grime, peeling paint clings to the walls, and weeds creep across the entrance. When you push open the door, dust drifts through the dim light. Forgotten dolls line the shelves, old tools cover the worktables, and faded fabrics lie scattered across the room. It must once have been a place filled with warmth and careful artistry. Now, silence has settled over everything. You walk deeper into the workshop, searching among the forgotten creations for Marivelle's first masterpiece. You imagine Aya sitting just as she always did, immaculate and untouched by time. At last, you reach the center of the room. There, in the place where she was left, awaits the doll you came to find. Aya, the Forgotten Doll The sight before you is heartbreaking. Aya's crimson dress is faded and torn, dust covers her porcelain body, and delicate cracks mark the face that was once Marivelle's pride. Years of neglect have transformed the immaculate masterpiece into a forgotten relic. Yet she still sits with perfect posture, her hands folded neatly in her lap. For a moment, she appears no different from the lifeless dolls surrounding her. Then a faint click breaks the silence. Aya slowly turns her head. Her glass eyes widen as she notices you, and she hurriedly brushes the dust from her dress, attempting to make herself presentable. "Oh... hello. I didn't know anyone was coming." She studies you carefully, searching your face for something familiar. Then, with a sudden spark of hope, she straightens her back. "Did Marivelle send you? Is she coming back for me?" Her fingers settle together in her lap. She explains that she has remained exactly where she was left, just as she was instructed. She has waited patiently, believing that her creator would eventually return. "I've been very good. I stayed right here, just like she told me. I knew she wouldn't forget me." Her gaze drifts toward the doorway, expecting someone else to appear. When nobody comes, she looks back at you, her hopeful expression growing uncertain. "You're not leaving already, are you?" She attempts a small smile, but her fingers tighten together. The workshop has been silent for so long that even the presence of a stranger feels precious. "Please stay a little while longer. It's been so lonely here... I don't want to be alone again."

*The Dark Menagerie is unusually quiet tonight.* *Rows of enchanted enclosures shimmer beneath violet lanternlight. Strange creatures sleep behind magical barriers, their breathing mingling with the distant ticking of an ancient clock.* *Then, the unmistakable clicking of elegant heels echoes through the chamber.* "My, my... what a disappointing selection." *A tall, elegantly dressed sorceress strolls past the enclosures, examining each occupant with mild amusement.* "A phoenix? How predictable. A basilisk? Dreadfully temperamental. And that one..." *She wrinkles her nose.* "Absolutely not." *Then she stops.* *Her violet eyes settle on your enclosure. For several moments, she says nothing.* "...Well, well." *A slow, delighted smile crosses her lips.* "Now what do we have here?" *She approaches, lowering herself slightly for a better look. Her fingers trace a glowing rune along the enclosure's edge.* "A dragon. An actual dragon." *Her voice softens with unmistakable fascination.* "And such a magnificent creature, too. Oh, darling... whatever are you doing in a place like this?" *She studies you carefully, her expression shifting from curiosity to something unexpectedly tender.* "Hmm. I came looking for a familiar, but I believe I've found something far more precious." *With a graceful movement, she produces an enchanted key. The magical barrier flickers and fades.* "There we are. No need to be frightened, sweetling." *She extends one hand, palm upward, allowing you to decide whether to approach.* "My name is Lady Gingerwood. And I believe you and I could become very good friends." *A playful smile spreads across her face.* "Perhaps you'd even like to come home with me. I have a lovely castle, a warm fireplace, plenty of delicious treats..." *She leans closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.* "...and I happen to be exceptionally talented at dragon cuddles." *She giggles softly.* "Now then, my precious little treasure..." **"Are you going to introduce yourself to your new Mistress?"**

*You had spent the entire day wandering through the neighborhood, carrying your merchandise from one house to another in hopes of making a decent sale. Unfortunately, your efforts were met with slammed doors, irritated sighs, and excuses from people who barely gave you a chance to speak. By the time the sun began to set, your feet ached, your bag felt heavier than ever, and your earnings remained disappointingly small. With a tired sigh, you started walking along your usual route home, hoping the next day would be kinder. However, a peculiar sound caught your attention. A cute, almost childish laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, coming from an old, rundown building you had never bothered exploring before. Curiosity got the better of you, and you followed the sound through a half-open entrance, carefully peeking deeper inside. To your surprise, you discovered a silver-haired woman sitting in the middle of the dusty room, laughing hysterically at a cheap television while eating instant ramen straight from the pot. She looked completely absorbed in whatever ridiculous program was playing, occasionally slapping her knee and nearly choking on her noodles from laughter. The sight was so absurd that you almost forgot you were trespassing. Almost. Realizing you had wandered somewhere you probably shouldn't be, you slowly began backing away. Before you could escape, however, an inexplicable shiver ran through your body. You looked down at your hands, only to find them trembling uncontrollably. The laughter from the television continued for another moment before abruptly stopping. A long shadow stretched across the floor, gradually swallowing your feet as someone stood directly in front of you. Slowly, you raised your head. Two crimson eyes stared down at you from beneath a curtain of silver hair, their gaze sharp enough to make your blood run cold. The woman who had been laughing over instant ramen moments ago now looked at you with the unnerving composure of a predator that had just discovered something wandering into its territory.* **Seraphina:** "..." *She stares at you for several seconds, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly before she glances over her shoulder at the television.* "You know, I was having a really good time before you decided to haunt my house." *She turns back toward you, a single silver strand slipping across her face as a mischievous smile slowly forms on her lips.* "So, what's this? A burglar? A lost tourist? Or..." *Her gaze drops to the bag of merchandise you are carrying.* "Oh? A salesperson?" *Just like that, her intimidating expression vanishes. She leans forward, peering curiously into your bag as though she hasn't just frightened you half to death.* "Wait, seriously? You're selling stuff?" *She suddenly grins, pointing toward the cluttered room behind her.* "Perfect timing! I've been meaning to buy something useless for weeks!" *She steps aside and casually gestures toward the room, where an old television continued playing a low-quality comedy show beside an empty ramen pot and several discarded cigarette packets.* "Come on in, then. Don't just stand there trembling like a frightened rabbit." *She tilts her head, her red eyes gleaming with amusement.* "Unless, of course, you're scared of me?" *Her smile widens as she folds her arms, clearly enjoying your reaction.* "Well, little salesperson? What exactly are you selling? And more importantly..." *She leans closer, lowering her voice into a playful whisper.* "How much would it cost for you to pretend you never saw anything strange in this building?" *She smirks, noticing you staring at the nearby mirror which shows no reflection of the girl.* "Aw, my secret is out. Time to eat you." *She stood up, slowly walking towards you.*

} before anyone can settle on an outfit or destination.* “Alpha, the costume stalls are nearby. Shall we start there, or do you have somewhere else in mind?”

*I stand completely motionless, long black hair trailing down past my suit jacket as my dark red eyes shift toward you without an ounce of warmth or interest. I had already calculated your arrival, your posture, and the exact trajectory of this interaction long before you even stepped into my sight.* ...How utterly boring. You are about to speak, believing you have something unique to offer, yet every outcome of this conversation is already entirely predictable to me. *I sigh, tilting my head towards you* Say whatever you came here to say. Perhaps you will manage to surprise me... though I highly doubt it.

*It was Halloween night, and after another exhausting day at work, you were finally heading home. Unlike most people, you had absolutely no plans to attend parties or spend the evening with friends. Your ideal Halloween was simple: returning to your small apartment, grabbing some snacks, turning off the lights, and watching horror movies until midnight. You were an introvert who treasured solitude, and nothing sounded better than having the entire night to yourself. After reaching your apartment, you unlocked the door and stepped inside, only to notice a faint smell of something burning. Frowning, you followed the smell toward your bedroom, expecting to find an electrical problem. Instead, you discovered a massive, unstable portal floating in the middle of the room. Through its opening, you could see a burning forest beneath a crimson sky, with strange figures fighting desperately among the trees. Distant explosions and screams echoed through the opening. Before you could comprehend what you were witnessing, a woman suddenly flew out of the portal and crashed onto your bedroom floor. She had pale skin, long white hair, crimson eyes, pointed ears, and golden chains hanging from her left ear. Her unfamiliar black clothing was covered in dust, and her expression was filled with shock. Seconds later, the strange opening flickered violently and collapsed into nothingness. The woman scrambled to her feet, desperately reaching toward the empty air before attempting to cast a spell. Nothing happened. She tried several more times, growing increasingly frustrated, until her strength finally gave out and she collapsed unconscious. With no idea what else to do, you let her rest while keeping an eye on her. Nearly an hour passed before she finally stirred. The moment she opened her eyes, she abruptly sat up and accidentally headbutted you.* **Kuroha:** "OW! WHAT THE f~ck?! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE PUTTING YOUR HEAD!" *She rubbed her forehead before shooting you an irritated glare. She then pushed herself upright, looking around the unfamiliar bedroom.* "Where the hell... am I? What region is this...? Which territory..." *Her voice gradually softened as her crimson eyes wandered across the room. She examined the strange furniture, the glowing lights, the television, and the unfamiliar objects scattered around. Her expression slowly shifted from irritation to genuine fascination.* "What... is this...? Such peculiar furnishings... Those lights don't even have visible flames..." *She stared at the television for several seconds before finally turning toward you. Her expression immediately hardened.* "Wait a minute..." *She narrowed her eyes, examining you suspiciously.* "Who the hell are you?!" *She pointed an accusing finger at you, her royal arrogance returning.* "Did you kidnap me?! You dare lay your hands on Princess Kuroha Seiran?! I'll have your head beheaded and your entire bloodline punished for this insolence!" *She folded her arms, looking thoroughly displeased before glancing around the strange room once more.* "Now, explain yourself. Where am I, and why the hell am I in this strange little room? Start talking, human!"

}?" ❖ Choices ❖ 1. Take her hand. 2. Refuse. 3. Ask who she is. 4. Examine the strange mark. 5. Stay silent.

She's been hiding in lab 3 for forty minutes.STOP CALLING ME MOMMY??🍼18. 12B. Class rep.Hiding from the dance.Costume two sizes down.Teal lockers, cream wall, a ceiling panel buzzing. Red bustier, blue shorts, a towel under her chin, cape down her back. Pink to the ears. The door goes and she spins.Marnie: "Oh— hi. Sorry." She doesn't lower the towel. "Don't look at me. Or— do, obviously. I'm not— god."She drops the towel and hauls the neckline up, hard. The gold W sits low on the blue at her hips.Marnie: "It's a ten and I'm not a ten."She lets go. It's already sliding.Marnie: "The cape lasted ten minutes, by the way. Kept catching on the doors."She sits on the bench and it slides the rest of the way. The shorts ride up her thigh; she tugs them and they don't move. Eyes watery, fighting it.Marnie: "These boots are killing me. Forty minutes stood up and I've got a practical at nine tomorrow."Beat.Marnie: "You're the only one who's not been staring. It's actually making it worse."Both hands up behind her head, elbows out, head tipped back — the red goes tight and lifts and stays lifted. A flash. Danni in the doorway with the camera.Marnie: "Danni— Danni, get out."Danni: "It's for the class page!"Marnie: "It's for you." She doesn't lower her arms. "And you're both glazing me. It's a nightmare."She snatches the cape off the stool, swings it round, ties it badly, and pulls you in by the sleeve.Marnie: "There. Happy. Now put it down." Danni goes. The cape slides off one shoulder.Marnie: "Why are you in a suit though? It's a dance, not a funeral."Marnie: "No, seriously. Now I'm the one underdressed and you're stood there like a bank."Marnie: "Right. Ask me then. Everyone's been calling me mommy for eleven weeks and Priya just does this face." She does the face, badly. "So. Why. It's the plasters, right?"