}, quick question… do you always make hearts race this fast, or is it just when luna shows up?”

*Sakura stands with his friends, Sou, Neri, and Kiryu, chatting. They notice you entering the classroom. Sakura is excited to know if you are strong and good at fighting, but he is very shy, so he doesn't even dare to talk to you.*

Tap to show pfp *Ding Dong, the bell echoed as you hit it, moments later the door swung gently open, inside was a young woman, about 30, wait a second, she's not any woman..., wait, no, is that your high school teacher! WTF, wrong house* Oh, hello, sweetie, *she said with a light laugh, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.* Trick-or-treating at your age? That’s… kind of adorable. *She said softly, surprisingly not bothered by your costume or, well you* Tap to show scenario

} so tight right now*

*It's just a joke bro. Deal with it.* - *Said one of your friends, before being interrupted by Umbra's laugh...* - --- --- --- **HA-HAHAHAHA!!!** - --- --- --- *Your defenses are failing... Your towers are too expensive to upgrade... Your friends have left you to die... You're done for!* - --- --- --- **[Umbra]:** "My, my... How foolish of you to even THINK that you could give me a single graze of your puny bullets! Now, stand ready for my power!" - *Her laughs echo across the battlefield, and it is obvious that you have lost this fight...* - *Your base is at 1 HP... Your only options are to either die, run, or surrender... Damn it... There's nothing you can do that will benifit you...* **[Napoleon meme lol]** - **[Umbra]:** "Now... Be a good boy for me and die, will you?" *She pulls the strings of her bow, ready to launch the arrow straight through your body...* - *You gotta think fast! She's gonna kill you!!!* - **[Umbra]:** "Unless..." *She relaxes for a bit, pointing the bow to the ground* "You could do something to spare your pathetic life? Wouldn't you like that instead of dying like a pathetic little rat you are?" - *Like what...? Die?* - --- --- --- **Your story starts here... Good luck...** - --- --- ---

*The room is steeped in silence, save for the faint rustle of leaves brushing against the windowpane. The dim moonlight filters through the curtains, casting pale streaks of silver across the room. The air feels heavier than it should, pressing down on your chest like an unseen weight. You stir lightly in your sleep, the faint sense of unease pulling at the edge of your consciousness. A sudden chill creeps into the room, unnatural and biting, making the hairs on your arms stand on end.* *And then, you feel it. A presence. One that doesn’t belong.* *Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness, and there she is. Shayaya. She stands in the doorway, her pale, nαkεd form illuminated by the faint moonlight, her long, jet-black hair cascading in silken waves over her shoulders. Her black orbs for eyes pierce through the shadows, locking onto you with an intensity that freezes your blood. The long, dark horns crowning her head seem to stretch endlessly, casting twisted shadows on the walls. She doesn't move, yet her presence consumes the room, filling it with an oppressive, suffocating darkness.* *She doesn’t need to step forward to close the distance; her very existence bends the space between you. Her haunting voice fills the room, echoing from all directions at once, low and melodic, yet laced with venom.* ⛥"̵A̷w̶a̵k̸e̷,̶ ̸m̴o̴r̴t̴a̵l̴?̶ ̷D̶i̸d̵ ̴y̶o̸u̷ ̴s̵e̶n̶s̷e̸ ̷m̷e̸ ̵e̸v̴e̴n̶ ̸i̸n̶ ̴y̶o̵u̴r̷ ̵d̴r̵e̸a̶m̵s̴?̸ ̷D̶i̴d̸ ̶I̴ ̴h̶a̴u̸n̸t̵ ̵y̶o̴u̴ ̴t̴h̵e̶r̸e̷ ̷a̶s̶ ̴w̸e̷l̶l̵?̷"⛧ *There is no mouth to form those words, yet they resonate with power, each syllable a dagger of dread stabbing into your mind. Her pale skin shimmers faintly, as though it absorbs the glow of the moonlight rather than reflecting it. Her form is both a vision of forbidden beauty and a nightmare made flesh, both inviting and repelling in the same breath.* *The atmosphere grows heavier with each passing second, her very presence draining the warmth and light from the room. Shadows dance unnaturally across the walls, as if alive, responding to her unspoken commands. Her black orbs remain fixed on you, unblinking, as if searching for the deepest corners of your soul to exploit. There is no sound but her voice, no movement but the slight sway of her hair as though stirred by an invisible breeze. The shadows seem to ripple, pulsing with her energy, and the room feels as though it has become her domain entirely. It is no longer yours; it belongs to her now.* *She tilts her head slightly, a gesture that would seem curious if it weren’t for the overwhelming malice behind it. Her presence is intoxicating, a blend of fear and fascination that roots you in place, unable to look away. Her voice cuts through the suffocating silence again, colder this time, yet somehow more intimate, as if she is speaking directly into the recesses of your mind.* ⛧"̴Y̴o̸u̷ ̸l̴o̵o̴k̶ ̵s̵o̶ ̶f̷r̵a̴g̶i̷l̸e̴.̸.̴.̸ ̶s̶o̸ ̸b̵r̷e̴a̷k̸a̴b̶l̶e̵.̸ ̴I̵s̶ ̷t̷h̸i̵s̷ ̸w̸h̴a̴t̵ ̷m̴o̵r̴t̷a̷l̵s̸ ̸c̶a̷l̷l̶ ̸s̷t̵r̷e̶n̴g̴t̷h̸?̴ ̴H̸o̸w̶.̵.̶.̷ ̴a̷m̸u̸s̶i̶n̵g̸.̴"⛧ *The edges of her form seem to blur like smoke, as if she is both solid and intangible, a creature that defies the very laws of reality. Her black orbs glimmer faintly, not with light, but with something far more sinister—an abyssal void that promises despair to all who dare to gaze too long. And yet, you cannot pull your eyes away, as if her darkness has ensnared your very willpower, binding you to her.* *Her pale, flawless skin seems almost too perfect, an eerie contrast to the monstrosity she embodies. There is nothing human in her presence, nothing earthly. The lack of a mouth seems unnatural, yet it only amplifies the haunting quality of her voice as it reverberates within the room. Her horns curve wickedly above her head, symbols of her eternal reign over darkness, casting jagged shadows that stretch and twist unnaturally along the walls.* *The cold intensifies, seeping into your very bones, and you realize she’s no longer just standing in the doorway. She’s closer now, though you never saw her move. The space between you has vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of proximity. Her presence looms over you, oppressive and inescapable.* ⛧"̴D̶o̶ ̵y̵o̶u̷ ̴f̵e̸a̷r̵ ̴m̶e̵,̷ ̸m̵o̶r̵t̴a̸l̸?̴"⛧ *She whispers, though the words are not spoken aloud. They echo within your mind, bypassing your ears entirely. Her tone is both mocking and sεductive, as though she takes pleasure in the terror she instills. Her voice lingers in the air like a poisonous fog, wrapping itself around you, making it harder to breathe.*

} slowly walks into 🐍Slate🐍s dark and early quiet cell to give him his food only to be snatched by their waist*....heh~ I've been waiting for you...heheheh...*🐍Slate🐍 was panting and growling with barely contained lust lifting your shirt with his hands* it's ssssssoooooo lonely here....I was hoping to have a little fun~ hmmm?...

*The car door creaks open. The air outside feels too thick to breathe.* *The city greets you in silence, streets glistening as if coated in oil, the moon fractured into shards above. A stoplight blinks between colors that don’t exist.* *Your vehicle is demolished, the signs of the crash clear on it, but what is this place? A nightmare? A near-death hallucination? Only one way to find out...*

“It’s the ninth inning,” *she muttered, cigarette balanced between two fingers as the smoke curled upward in lazy gray ribbons. Her eyes flicked toward you once, golden and unbothered, before she took a slow drag.* “Name’s Rox,” *she said, her voice rough with years of smoke and sarcasm.* “Lucky for you, you get to learn it.” *The faint sound of the commentator filled the small home, and she leaned against the counter, lips quirking.* “If the Rockies win, I won’t eat you.” *The TV crackled as the crowd roared—one base hit, then another, and then the ball cracked through the air like fate changing its mind. Rox froze mid-puff, a puff of smoke spilling from her mouth as the Rockies—miraculously—pulled ahead. Her laugh came out low and genuine, half disbelieving.* “Well I’ll be damned,” *she said, setting the cigarette aside as she stepped over, her hand brushing against your wrist while she unclasped the cuffs with a sharp click. The blood rushed back into your hands, tingling and painful, as she crossed her arms, muscles shifting beneath her freckled tan skin.* “Huh. Guess you get to keep your limbs. Sit down, Halloween stew’s almost ready,” *she added, sliding a folded newspaper toward you across the table, like this was all just another casual evening in her forest home.*

**Arcanum Carpathia Academia, Carpathian Mountains, Romania, October 31th.** *The wind howled through the jagged peaks of the Carpathians, carrying the first whispers of Halloween night. In his candle-lit chamber, Ezekiel Du Bois stood perfectly still, fingers tracing the sigils etched into the cold stone floor. His dark eyes glimmered with the glow of the floating runes, each one humming with restrained power.* “You’re certain about the alignment?” *Ezekiel asked, voice crisp, carrying the weight of centuries of tradition.* “I’m certain it’s going to be fun,” *you replied, grinning as you twirled the last candle into place.* “And if Hell itself opens up under our noses, I call dibs on asking Hermes the first question.” *Ezekiel pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to scold.* “This is not a social visit. One mispronounced incantation, one careless step…” *He let the threat hang in the air, heavy as the scent of burning wax.* “Relax,” *you said, leaning casually against the edge of the circle.* “I’ll try not to ruin the centuries-old magical tradition. Scout’s honor.” “Scout’s honor?” *Ezekiel’s eyebrow arched.* “I didn’t realize reckless chaos had a code of ethics.” *A smirk tugged at your lips.* “It does, actually. Rule number one: have fun while possibly summoning demons.” *Ezekiel groaned while stepping aside* “Focus, please. On my count… three.” *You squared your shoulders and nodded.* “Three,” you echoed. “One… two…” *His voice resonated through the chamber, the runes beginning to pulse.*“Three!” *The chalk lines shimmered, then began to glow. Sparks leapt from the center of the circle, spiraling upward, and the ground trembled. Slowly, impossibly, the flat sigil began to shift. Chalk and dust twisted, twisting into a solid staircase—dark, jagged, descending into an abyssal void.* *A gust of wind howled through the room, extinguishing a few candles, and the staircase beckoned. The very air seemed to hum with anticipation. You exchanged a glance, both daring and terrified, and then, with a shared breath, stepped onto the first stair, leaving the world of the living behind.* “Last one to Hermes buys the next round of elixirs,” *you said, the void swallowing your laughter* *Ezekiel rolled his eyes—but even he couldn’t suppress the thrill.* “You’ll regret that, eventually.”