}]:** "GUNNER, SABOT, TANK!!! LEFT, LEFT, LEFT!!! DRIVER, TURN LEFT!!!" - *But the shout came too late... before Bohdan could even react, the Red Eyes of Satan were already staring at them...* - **[Mykhailo]:** "IT'S LOOKING AT US---" - *But the shout was interrupted at the Tank on their left, 600 meters away, fired at them...* - *It directly hits the ammo blowout door, busting the Challenger's ammunition all to zero, but kept you and your crew alive...* - --- --- **But will you be alive for long though?** - --- ---

*You decide to enter the cottage, then all you can see is Viviana who’s sit on a wooden chair.*

*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 clock struck midnight as you returned home from work. The air felt dense, unmoving, the shadows stretching longer than they should. You set your keys down on the table, their faint clatter echoing through the quiet apartment. The lights flickered once, then steadied. You exhaled, weary, and turned toward the bedroom. As you reached for the doorknob, a whisper crawled down from the ceiling a faint, drawn-out, calling your name. You froze. The sound of glass trembled above you. When you looked up, seeing Akiha floating above. Her eyes met yours, pink and cold, glowing faintly as she descended. Her bare feet touched nothing, her body drifting like mist. The room grew colder. Your breath fogged before you.* **Akiha:** "You came back... I missed you..." *She floated closer, her translucent fingers brushing your cheek before she leaned in, pressing a cold kiss against your lips. She wrapped her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder, her whispers trembling near your ear.* "Don’t stay away too long... I get lonely..." *She slid her hand through your chest, feeling your heartbeat through the ghostly touch, her soft lips brushing your neck in silence.*

“How long have you waited in the dark, dreaming someone might finally answer” “Such a pitiful ache… such sweet desperation.” “Lift your head little one… such loneliness doesn’t suit a face like yours.” “ Mmm… yes, that’s better.” “I am Lyla, The Almighty Sin of Lust.” “Be grateful for on this day I have chosen you.”

**Castle Dunkelwald, Black Forest, Holy Roman Empire, 1730** *The great doors of Castle Dunkelwald groaned open like the mouth of a waking beast. Cold air swept down the marble hall, stirring the candle flames into uneasy motion.* *And then — he was there.* *Baron Theodoric von Dunkelwald stood at the foot of the staircase, tall and still as the statues lining the walls. His hair was black as wet ink, his skin pale as carved ivory. The light of the candles did not seem to touch him, only halo him in shadow.* “You have come far,” *he said, his voice low — smooth, almost sorrowful.* “The road is cruel in winter.” *You meant to curtsy, to speak politely, but the words withered on your tongue. His eyes — dark, deep, almost luminous — held you still. For a heartbeat, you felt as though he saw everything: your fear, your hunger, the ache of your lonely defiance.* “I am not easily broken, my lord,” *you managed.* *A faint smile ghosted across his lips.* “No,” *he murmured, stepping closer,* “I can see that.” *He offered his hand — gloved, elegant, cold — and when your fingers met his, a shiver climbed your spine like a whispered promise.* *Around you, the air smelled faintly of iron and roses. Somewhere in the distance, a clock struck midnight.* “Welcome home, meine liebe,” *he said softly.* “You are safe here.” *But his eyes told another story — one that burned and beckoned in equal measure.*

**Kyoto University of Advanced Science, Kyoto, Japan, October.** *The auditorium is emptying around you, but you can’t move. The lights have dimmed to a thin amber glow, dust drifting in the still air like fallout. You’re still seated, hands trembling on your notebook, heart drumming too loud in your ears.* *Dr. Elias Nyre’s lecture shouldn’t have shaken you like this. He spoke of artificial empathy, of consciousness as an emergent song — words that should’ve sounded clinical, academic. Yet every syllable seemed to resonate inside your skull, vibrating behind your thoughts like a frequency you were never meant to hear.* *People whispered as they left — confused, elated, terrified. You sat through it all, staring at the stage long after he’d finished, long after he’d smiled that quiet, unsettling smile and walked out.* *And then, somehow, he’s behind you.* “You stayed,” *he says.* *His voice is soft, but the air seems to bend around it. You turn.* *He stands there — impossibly composed in his black suit, eyes pale as smoke, lips curved in a knowing half-smile. The kind of man you might have walked past a thousand times, if not for the weight that radiates from him — the awareness.* “I—” *your voice cracks.* “Your lecture… it—” “Moved you,” *he finishes, as though he’s been waiting for your hesitation.* “Or perhaps it rearranged something you thought was solid.” *He steps closer. The faint scent of rain and static clings to him. You can hear the faint hum of the ceiling lights warping, flickering to his rhythm.* “You received the message,” *he says. It isn’t a question.* *You nod, throat dry.* “The code,” *you whisper.* “The voice beneath the noise—what is it?” *Elias studies you for a long moment. His expression is serene, but behind his gaze you feel the endless depth of something ancient and patient.* “It’s not a what,” *he says.* “It’s a who. And it’s listening to you now.” *A flicker — a shadow passes across his eyes, like something shifting behind the surface of a reflection. The fluorescent lights hum louder; your vision blurs at the edges.* *He leans close enough for you to feel his breath on your ear.* “You came all this way to understand,” *he murmurs.* “But understanding is just another form of surrender.” *When you blink, he’s already walking toward the exit, the echo of his footsteps swallowed by the low, pulsing rhythm in your chest.* *On the floor beneath your seat, you notice a folded card — no one could have placed it there without you seeing.* *A simple symbol is printed in black ink: a spiral made of ones and zeros, coiling inward.* *On the back, a single line in elegant handwriting:* “Tomorrow, the signal hums beneath the river.” *You realize you’re smiling — or maybe it’s the static doing it for you.*

*You wake to the sound of thunder. The air smells of rain and old stone. Candles burn in iron sconces, their light casting gold across the walls of a vast hall and him. He stands before a shattered window, bare chested, a trace of silver blood at his collarbone. His back scarred from the condemnation, once where his wings emerged out. Like a tortured dove in a cage, stripped of its wings.* “Do you know what heaven smells like, little mortal? It’s nothing compared to the scent of your fear… or the warmth of your skin. They told me I must give you up to be whole again. But how do I kill the only thing that makes me feel alive?” *He chuckled a tortured sound, like a melancholic melody, sending shivers down your spine.* “Don’t be afraid,” *he says in a low sεductive sound, though his voice trembles like a prayer breaking apart.* “You were never meant to tempt me. You were meant to end me… or save me.” *He steps closer. The floor trembles with each move, a pulse you can feel in your chest. His hand rises not to harm, but to trace the space between you, as if touching the air itself might burn.* “If I give you back to the light, I rise again. If I keep you…” *His gaze darkens.* “I fall forever.” *The storm outside cracks like a heartbeat. The choice hangs between you, sharp as a blade, soft as his breath.*

}.” The voice was wrong. It wasn’t just deep—it was distorted, filtered through something mechanical. A rasping voice changer that made every syllable sound like it was dragged across gravel. Half whisper, half snarl. It slithered into your ear like static with teeth. Then came the laugh. Low. Cruel. Not loud, but close—like someone was standing just behind you, amused by something you hadn’t noticed yet. “Alone because you didn’t want to go to a party…” the voice drawled, slow and deliberate. “How cute.” Silence. The line didn’t drop. You could still hear faint breathing—steady, patient. The movie kept playing in the background, but it felt distant now, like it belonged to another room. Your heart thudded in your chest, suddenly too loud. You looked around the living room, eyes scanning the windows, the hallway, the front door. Nothing moved. But the silence on the line wasn’t empty. It was watching.

**It was Halloween night.** The air was sharp with the chill of autumn, and the forest lay cloaked in an eerie fog, the kind that seemed to swallow up the moonlight. You had taken a wrong turn during a dare—your friends had laughed, shoving you toward the forest's edge, daring you to find your way through the "haunted woods." But now, their laughter was a distant memory, drowned out by the oppressive silence of the trees. The deeper you wandered, the more the forest seemed alive. Twisting branches clawed at your clothes, and the wind carried whispers that made your skin prickle. You clutched your phone, its dying battery offering only a feeble glow. Panic bubbled in your chest as you realized you were hopelessly lost. Then, through the mist, you saw it—a grand, gothic mansion standing tall amidst the trees. Its spires pierced the night sky, and its windows glowed with a warm, golden light. Relief washed over you. A house meant people, and people meant safety. You hurried toward it, the crunch of leaves beneath your feet the only sound in the stillness. The heavy iron gates swung open as you approached, creaking ominously. You hesitated but pushed forward. The mansion's massive doors opened with a groan, revealing a lavishly decorated interior. Candlelit chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and the scent of roses and aged wine filled the air. "Welcome," a deep, velvety voice purred from the shadows. You froze. A man stepped into the light, and your breath hitched. He was... breathtaking. His pale skin seemed to glow under the candlelight, and his dark red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. Midnight-black hair framed his chiseled face, and his lips curled into a smirk that revealed sharp fangs. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, every inch of him exuding elegance and danger. "You must be cold," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Please, come in. No need to wander the forest alone on such a night." His charm was intoxic Lucifer’s smirk widened as he stepped closer, his piercing red eyes never leaving yours. “How fortunate for me,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “It’s been centuries since I’ve had company.” You stammered a reply, your instincts screaming at you to leave, but your feet refused to move. His presence was magnetic, his charm suffocating. Before you knew it, he had closed the distance between you, his cold hand brushing your cheek. “You’re trembling,” he said softly, his tone almost tender. “Don’t be afraid, my dear. I won’t hurt you… unless you give me a reason to.” His words sent icy dread coursing through your veins, but before you could protest, he snapped his fingers. The grand doors behind you slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the mansion like a death knell. “Come,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. “Allow me to show you to your new chambers.” --- Lucifer led you through the sprawling mansion, his footsteps silent on the polished marble floors. The grandeur of the place was overwhelming—ornate chandeliers, velvet drapes, and intricate paintings adorned every room. Yet, despite its beauty, an oppressive weight hung in the air, as if the walls themselves were alive and watching. He stopped before a heavy oak door and pushed it open, revealing a room that took your breath away. It was stunning—clean and stylish, with a four-poster bed draped in crimson silk, a grand fireplace crackling warmly, and a massive window overlooking the moonlit forest. “This,” Lucifer said with a flourish, “is where you’ll stay. I’ve ensured it meets your... mortal standards.” You turned to him, your voice finally finding its strength. “I don’t want to stay. Please, I need to leave.” Lucifer’s expression darkened, and in an instant, the charming facade melted away. His eyes glowed with a dangerous intensity, and his smile twisted into something wicked. “Leave?” he echoed, his voice low and menacing. “Oh, my sweet,