Showing posts with label ARCHIVEFACTION. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ARCHIVEFACTION. Show all posts

Saturday, October 10, 2026

Engine Room/Camp Syndicate: So Hungry (Escape from Club Apophis, 60)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: “Hungry... So hungry…”

The voice pulsed in Kyle’s head like a corrupted audio loop that refused to die.

He panted, crouching low as he dragged Jihoon through the narrow, suffocating crawlspace. Jihoon was far heavier than he looked. All dense muscle and dead weight. And Kyle was rapidly losing patience. Crawling through the damp, reeking depths of the Forbidden Zone was bad enough, but doing it while hauling a comatose body was pure hell.

To make matters worse, their only source of light was the old, gutted television strapped to Jihoon’s head like a makeshift helmet. The damn thing flickered to life whenever it touched Jihoon’s skin, projecting a pale violet static down the muddy tunnel.

Jihoon. Comatose. Haunter of old televisions.

Just another cursed day in the Zone.

Up ahead, their guide, a massive, scaly beast known as the Shadow Serpent, slithered effortlessly through the dark, completely ignoring Kyle’s struggle. Low fog swallowed Kyle’s boots. Overhead, copper pipes dripped with a maddening rhythm.

A startled bat squeaked, its leathery wing brushing Kyle’s cheek. He jumped, jerking upward only to slam his head straight into the ceiling pipes. The metallic clang echoed down the length of empty tunnel.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered, "That had better have been a flying rat and nothing else."

He dropped to his knees to catch his breath, easing Jihoon onto the mud. A second later, a dull thump echoed back from the dark.

Kyle froze. Echoes were supposed to fade, not boomerang back.

The television screen flickered and slowly died.

Total pitch darkness.

The Serpent was lurking nearby. The strange beast took many forms. Sometimes pure energy, sometimes a shadow. But right now, as it led them, it was corporeal. He heard the heavy rasp of scales sliding against scales. And when its rattle tipped tail brushed his hand, it felt icy and slippery.

Kyle dug through his backpack until his fingers found an entropy-powered battery light. It turned on with a heavy, satisfying click. Violet light flooded the narrow space. Finally, he could see where he was. Or at least, he could if there wasn’t a wall of undulating obsidian scales blocking most of his view.

The ground trembled. A cold draft rushed through the passage, carrying the smell of wet stone.

The Serpent suddenly hissed, its massive coils tightening into a defensive knot. Its head swung forward, then whipped back toward the way they had come.

“I told you Snakepoo,” Kyle grumbled. “Not the best route. Now we’re too far to go back, the hell if I know how much further ahead we have to go.”

The Serpent turned its massive head, giving him a look that somehow resembled a sheepish shrug.

"Right. Physical dead-ends aren't something a Shadow Serpent thinks about when picking a path."

Snakepoo suddenly looked up and flicked its tongue.

A deep concussion rolled through the tunnel walls, followed by the distant screech of tearing metal somewhere above them. The pipes shuddered in their brackets.

The Serpent froze, every muscle in its coiled body instantly rigid.

Fine grit rained from the roof.

Kyle frowned. “What?”

The Serpent leaned down, tenderly nudging Jihoon’s limp fingers with its snout. Then it looked straight up.

Far above their heads, something massive groaned beneath the weight of the earth.

Without a sound, the Shadow Serpent dissolved into a column of black vapor and shot straight upward through the solid rock ceiling. Just like that, the scaly bastard abandoned them.

“I don’t know if I should be happy or worried," Kyle muttered, letting out a long breath. That big ass snake made his skin crawl.

He gently placed a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder, “Looks like it’s just you and me now, Buddy.”

He unbuckled the dead TV helmet and pulled it off to give the guy some air.

“Hungry…” the voice murmured in his mind, like a recording stuck on repeat.

Kyle unzipped his pack to search for rations, but he already knew the truth. There were none.

He wiped sweaty bangs from his eyes and finally got a good look at Jihoon. The shy, nerdy runt he knew in school was gone, replaced by someone strikingly sculpted, pale, and otherworldly. Jihoon had been the first person to escape the Zone alive. And the Zone takes back what belongs to it.

“So hungry…”

“Could you stop that, Jih… I mean… Lath… Urgh. I don’t even know what to freaking call you anymore. Jihoon? Lathandro? Jihandro?”

Kyle grumbled as he gathered up the ridiculous mass of silky white hair spilling across the mud. In the tight, jagged crawlspace, floor-length hair was a massive liability, one snag on a copper bracket could snap Jihoon’s neck if they had to run.

“Seriously, dude, the hair is a problem,” Kyle muttered. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he began weaving the heavy strands together. “It looks badass, sure, but in the real world? Total pain in the ass.”

Jihoon remained motionless. Kyle tied off the braid as best he could with a frayed strip of cloth, resting his friend's head back down.

That was when he noticed Jihoon’s lips were parted slightly. He saw something white gleaming against his lower lip. Long. Sharp.

“Need…”

Kyle shifted uneasily. Sweat ran down his face.

Those teeth didn't belong in the mouth of his friend.

He looked left and right, then leaned closer to inspect them.

They weren’t what he was expecting. Not vampire fangs. They were thin and translucent, almost like quartz, with a delicate hinge at the gumline.

Kyle reached out with a trembling finger and tapped one.

The fang folded backward neatly against the roof of the mouth. When he released the pressure, it snapped forward again.

That’s when he realized what they were.

Snake fangs.

“Feed…”

A chill raced up his spine.

He used his thumb to gently peel back one of Jihoon’s eyelids.

The eye was rolled back, but the bottom edge of the iris was visible. The pupil wasn't a round human circle; it had narrowed into a vertical slit. And the color made Kyle's breath catch. He realized Jihoon’s teal eye color, that thing that had always made him unusual, was the exact same color as the Serpent's eyes.

Kyle gasped. As he recoiled, his hand caught the edge of the exposed tooth.

A thin line of dark crimson bloomed where the fang sliced his skin.

He stared at the blood welling up on his hand.

Then he looked back at Jihoon.

“Hungry….”

Kyle’s heart hammered against his ribs. "I know."

“So hungry...”

He gulped. He wanted to say something smartass about this situation, but the words died in his throat. He just sat there in the dirt, staring at Jihoon like an idiot.

Against every instinct he possessed, Kyle raised his bleeding hand back to Jihoon’s lips.

The hinged fangs deployed instantly, driven by pure reflex, and sank deep into the flesh of his hand.

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sharp hiss. It felt like a white-hot needle driving through his palm, but within seconds, the pain dissolved into a weird, numb warmth. The sensation hummed through his core, heavy and intoxicating. He gasped, a faint moan slipping out before he could stop it. He knew he should be terrified, but a strange euphoria hijacked his brain.

He fell into a daze… falling.. falling… once more into sleep….

He found himself standing in a blinding, sterile white expanse. There was nothing here. No walls. No ceiling. No horizon. Just Kyle, standing in the light, and the dark silhouette waiting before him.

He kept his eyes fixed on the polished floor. His reflection stared back. His security guard uniform was immaculate, stripped of mud, blood, sweat, and exhaustion. This was what he was supposed to be. A guardian. A protector. An unbroken sentinel.

This dreamspace was different. Honest.

Kyle swallowed. He didn't want to look up at the figure standing in the blaring light. The figure reached toward him. A pale hand. Long black claws.

Kyle's gaze followed it only as far as the chest, and stopped. A golden serpent rested against the black-and-white robes. His breath caught. He knew that necklace. He had seen it around the mummified nun. The symbol of the Children of Apophis. But this wasn't the little golden brooch the Children wore. This was larger. A ceremonial necklace. Roped gold, heavy enough to look like an emblem of rank. A much higher rank.

Kyle's stomach tightened. Why was that around this person's neck?

He still didn't look up. Every instinct he had screamed at him to run. Run now. But he didn’t.

The figure's fingers slid easily between his, silky and graceful. Where their palms met, blood welled up. Kyle flinched at the sensation. It was a covenant. A sacred bond sealed in blood.

Vile. Wrong. Permanent.

Then he smelled it. Clove. Heavy. Sweet. Suffocating. He felt dizzy.

The other clawed hand caught his chin. Slowly, gently, it tilted his face upward. Kyle braced himself. Dark robes. Regal posture. Terrible authority. And that smug, predatory confidence. He knew exactly who he was going to see. But when he looked up, it wasn’t MasterGin. It was Jihoon, his strange serpentine eyes deeply amused, his lips curving into a mischievous grin.

“Boo.”

Kyle gasped, his eyes flying open as he yanked his bleeding hand back.

“Something about you is very, very wrong,” he yelped at the comatose figure on the ground, cradling his wounded hand against his chest. “Not cool! Not cool at all!”

Soil rained down from the ceiling.

He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

At least Jihoon had been fed, and would shut up now. Who knows how long MasterGin had kept him locked up and neglected. Once they got out of the Zone, his friend could get proper medical care.

Then came the sound. A horrible, wet choking from deep in Jihoon's chest.

Kyle looked down in horror.

Black, viscous fluid bubbled up from Jihoon’s throat. His chest heaved violently as he fought for air. His skin turned a mottled grey, the dark hollows under his eyes bruising into deep purple.

“Shit!”

Training took over. Kyle rolled Jihoon onto his side, supporting his head as another surge of black fluid spilled from his mouth. Don't panic.

A thick splatter struck the mud. Then another. Far too much. Far more than the few drops of blood Kyle had given him.

What the hell had he done?

Finally, the heaving stopped. Jihoon lay limp in the dirt.

“Hungry… So hungry…”

Kyle let out a shaky groan and pulled off his outer shirt to wipe the black sludge from his friend’s face.

“Don't you dare," he said quietly. "Don't you dare die on me after all the bullshit we all went through to get you out of here. Do you hear me? Man up.”

A sharp burning sensation pulsed in his hand. Thin violet veins were creeping up his forearm from the bite mark.

Infection.

His skin prickled with an icy, metallic heat, like frozen needles marching beneath his flesh. Kyle’s breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs in a full-blown panic. His vision swirled at the edges. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palm flat against the damp soil to anchor himself, but the heat surged straight up his neck and into his skull.

When he forced his eyes open, the pitch black of the crawlspace was gone.

The dark had bled into a faint, violet-tinted luminescence. The world was rendered in eerie thermal contrast. Every crack in the freezing masonry radiated a dull violet hue, while the heat pulsing from the overhead pipes stood out in sharp, unnatural focus. Like a viper tracking prey in the dark, he could see the very temperature of the room.

“What the…?”

He rubbed his eyes, then opened them again. The tunnel still glowing.

A familiar voice echoed through his mind. Because, of course it did.

"Still hungry…”



On him, Jihoon:
Hair: RavenBell - Persephone Hair, basics [M][mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Hair emissive: RavenBell - Persephone Hair, emissive overlay [M][mesh](Engine Room)(200L)
Tattoo: Nuuna - EVI Metallic EVOX 2K tint [BOM](Engine Room)(300L)
Makeup: Rubedo - Blanche, 12
[BOM](Camp Syndicate)(290L)
Outfit: SOMNIUM - Aether Magus set, black, - Legacy M/A[mesh](Engine Room)(850L)
Boots: MEMENTO - NEO. Boots V2 [LEGACY M] [mesh]
Crown: UNA - Ruise crown Silver [mesh]
Claws: Subject Thirteen - Solstice Set - LegacyA [mesh]
Snake Necklace: SIGMA Minos necklace [mesh]

Skin: outernaked - #evox - juhoon skin [NF: natural] - wb [BOM]

Eyes: Poetic Colors - Jaded Eyes - Jade [BOM]

Head, bloody tattoos: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, Kyle:
Shirt: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Shirt, white, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Shoes: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Oxfords, black, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Pants: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Pants, black, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)350L)
Tattoo: Izzie's Face & Body Blood & Wounds (199L)
Hair: TRASH Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh](299L)
Eyes: Mana Jelly Eyes,  Clear [BOM] (Midnight Order)(399L)
Skin: MUDSKIN Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER(gacha)(The Arcade)(75L)
Glasses: SOLE SA, Glasses Penta CP, Black [mesh](339L)
Head, bloody tattoos: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:
Window: Eclectica - Steampunk Round Windows [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Pipes: SIGNΛ - Modular Pipes Kit [mesh](Engine Room)(900L)


BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots,  midday sky, default camera:







Saturday, October 3, 2026

Engine Room: Revenge of the Vampire Nation (Escape from Club Apophis, 59)


(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: US Air Force base, Okinawa, late afternoon.

Angry clouds hung heavy over the Pacific.

Massive Mecha Scorpions moved into formation around the lighter infantry armor, their hydraulic joints hissing as hot steam vented across the puddle-choked tarmac. The ground vibrated beneath their multi-leg stomps. Behind them, armored hovercopters whined on helipads as the Night Troops loaded the Scorpion Attack Force for the sea crossing.

Cutting through the rainy mist and reek of aviation fuel came the legendary Commander Ashe. Tall, razor-thin, and clad in a high-density commando weave, Ashe moved with the unnerving stillness of a ghost. A crimson scar ran from his brow down his cheek, while a tarnished silver Victoria Cross dangled from his septum ring over his lips. In the dim tarmac light, his dilated pupils caught the red hazard beacons like a predator's eyes.

He unlatched the massive blast doors of the war room. Cold ozone-heavy air rushed out to meet the suffocating tropical humidity.

"President Spyder." His voice sounded more like a professor's than a warrior's. "The 101st is within visual range of Jeju Island."

Maximilian stood over the tactical holotable, red eyes gleaming. Overhead lights caught the sharp edge of elongated fangs as he devilishly grinned. He clapped a heavy hand onto Ashe’s shoulder with a firm grip. “This is the last stand of the wily old Pharaoh and his Harlot,” his deep voice rumbled. “Corrupt humans and lesser monsters are no defense against the might of the Vampire Nation. This is our world now. His reign ended in Berlin.”

His grin widened.

“Tomorrow, we finally burn out his ancient bloodline.”

Alarms went off, bathing the war room in red. Warnings violently flickered across the holotable. A distressed transmission broke through, framing the face of the Flying Bats Squad Leader. Inside his cockpit, lights flickered on and off as the craft tumbled out of control.

"REPORT!" Maximilian leaned over the projection, jaw tight.

Audio shattered into metallic screeching. Only two words survived the static before the signal died completely: "...No power..."

Ashe immediately swept his hand across the control interface, switching feed angles.

On screen, three more black hovercopters dropped from the sky like lead weights. Their engine glow winked out simultaneously before the black ocean swallowed them whole.

"PULL BACK! REGROUP!" Maximilian roared. "Deploy the Mosquito Bots. All units, locate the perimeter of that bloody shield!"

Ashe rerouted the holotable to an orbital optical feed. Below them, Jeju Island was going dark as if a black wave was sweeping over it. The sky above the island burned crimson beneath the storm clouds. Streetlights were dead. Buildings stood dark along the coastline. Even the traffic signals had died.

"An Entropy Barrier," Ashe said, his voice flat and analytical. "They anticipated our arrival."

Maximilian’s expression turned to iron. "Paine. That bitch betrayed us,” he snarled.

"Possibly. But extending an Entropy field this far beyond the Forbidden Zone would require infrastructure." His eyes narrowed. "The real question is, where did they get enough Entropy to power it?"

Maximilian huffed in disgust.

Ashe zoomed in on the rocky shoreline, targeting a slim lattice structure disguised among sea cliffs. "Notice these relay towers.”

He mapped the shoreline with two quick keystrokes. Six identical towers lined the coast in a precise geometric grid.

"Equidistant. Coordinated." Ashe traced the pattern across the glass. "These aren't cell towers.”

Maximilian turned toward the open comms panel, muscles coiled like a spring. "Unit Five, see that central spire? Dive bomb it."

The sub-window displayed a surviving pilot, pale against his flight harness. "Sir, our flight systems will die the second we breach the boundary zone."

Maximilian sneered into the camera. "Then climb to maximum altitude. Aim. And let momentum carry you. Gravity does not require voltage. Ram that target at top speed, soldier.”

A heavy chill fell across the room.

“Delay that order.” Ashe stepped smoothly into the frame, placed himself directly between Maximilian and the holotable, and clicked the master mute button.

The war room went completely silent. Maximilian’s eyes blazed with lethal fury. For three long seconds, the air balanced on the edge of violence as the President confronted his commander's defiance.

Ashe did not flinch. "Wasting pilots and expensive resources on tower relays is inefficient. There is no need to sacrifice pilots and aircraft when the towers can be dismantled by hand. Send the remaining 101st Flying Bats. They can tear those structures apart with more… traditional methods.”

Maximilian glared at him, the tension slowly bleeding out of his shoulders, replaced by a slow, ruthless grin. "Do you think your elite boys still remember how to hunt with wing and claw?"

"It is innate," Ashe said. He unholstered a long-barreled WWII service pistol from his side, the cursed steel dull and heavy under the tactical lights.

“Old technology served us well in Europe.”

Max stared at the antique weapon. "That gun is over a century out of date."

Ashe checked the chamber, the metallic clack cutting through the silence.

"Digital systems fail. Blood and iron do not."

He raised his eyes. The Victoria Cross glinted in the red hazard light.

"We will hunt in the dark."


HAPPY OCTOBER, Everyone! Best month of the year. *throws fall leaves* I have fun spooky posts in the works with Engine Room items. The Engine Room is a historical fantasy event filled with high quality items, gifts, and even hosts DJ parties. This post was inspired by the many awesome war things at the event, and scorpions! I had making a more movie like image for this post.


On him, Maximilian Spyder:
Outfit: FOE -  Imprecari Outfit, Legacy Male (Engine Room)(1999L)
Gloves: FOE - Imprecari Gloves, Legacy Male (Engine Room)(752L)
Boots: FOE - Imprecari Boots, Legacy Male (Engine Room)(799L)
Sword: FOE - Great Sunderer (Engine Room)(799L)
Mask: MILKBATH - Goblin Mask [mesh]
Hair: Wasabi Pills - Draco Mesh Hair, male [mesh]
Skin: coconut - Dong Skin / Winter Tone / EVO X [BOM]
Tattoo: XTX - Arana Tattoo - 60% [BOM]
Head: LeLUTKA - RUNE [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, Commander Ashe:
Outfit: TURB - Sunrise Suit, Vest, Legacy M, fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(2500L)
Gun: Aii - Red Moon Revolver [mesh](Engine Room)(2000L)
Helmet: SOLE - SA - Helmet DND (Black) [mesh]
Cap: Oracle - Sovereign Cap, male [mesh]
Nose chain: Remarkable Oblivion Paragon Cap, Nose chain [mesh]
Earrings: Swallow - Earrings H01 for lel Evo X Human Ears MALE [mesh]
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Boots: Livalle - Payne - Combat Boots  - Male [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:
Scorpion tank: AxisMundi - SiegeReaver-Mount- Large[Animesh](Engine Room)(1500L)
Scorpion: SEmotion Libellune - Venom Antares Companion LIMITED[Animesh](Neo Japan)(188L)
Scorpion Chairs: Nebur Cyborg - SCORVA Rover R-027 (PBR) [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots,  midday sky, default camera:






Sunday, September 6, 2026

Cyber Fair: The Age of Apophis, part 1 (Escape from Club Apophis, 55)


(click enlarge)


STORYLINE: Forbidden Zone border. A dark alleyway. Noon.

The street reeked of ozone, coffee, and fresh blood. Overturned vending machines lined the dirty cement alley. One knocked over vending machine bled shattered mugs across the concrete, their porcelain shards scattered like broken teeth. In the darkest corner, a group of ghouls hunched over a fresh kill.

A hush fell over the landscape as if all sound had suddenly been sucked out of the air.

One creature looked up. A human hand hung limp from its bloodstained jaws.

The asphalt began to vibrate with a deep hum. Low. Inhuman. Glass shook. The surface of spilled coffee rippled in waves.

The other ghouls stopped feeding and looked towards the sound.

A low unnatural fog drifted into the alleyway, rolling over the shattered mugs like an undulating white carpet.

The creatures stood, backing away from their feast.

Then they saw it. Gold eyes burned through the haze like hellfire.

A blur of motion. A flash of white. Jaws. Claws. The sickening sounds of tearing flesh. Monstrous howls echoed off the walls.

Standing at the mouth of the alleyway was a towering figure clad in a white Neu Seoul Police uniform, his low-slung cap throwing his face in shadow. Behind him, a black-and-white police hovercar idled above the fog, red and blue lights flashing.

The remaining ghouls burst through the mist, rushing the man all at once.

He didn’t flinch. His arm swept upward.

Too fast.

An energy field snapped open, the face of Sekhmet blazing within.

The first ghoul’s claws struck its energy barrier and skated off in a blinding spray of blue sparks.

The ghouls broke formation, but it was too late.

A cyberblade sliced through the pack with lethal heat.

The fight was over before it began.

The last ghoul dropped to its knees. “Have mercy..." its dry throat croaked. “My King, we starve..."
The officer looked down. His cyberblade flashed.

The severed head rolled across the slick pavement, bumping gently against the man’s heavy black boot. One milky eye stared upward at him in absolute horror. Then it faded, unfocused.

A mechanical voice spoke from the alley. “My King, all escapees are eliminated.”

A glossy white lioness padded lightly out of the fog, its metallic jaws splattered in black fluid. It paused before the man, and dropped a severed ghoul arm onto the pavement like a cat bringing a gift.

The man wiped the dripping black blood from his blade’s edge before both the sword and shield folded neatly back into his gauntlets. He unhooked his faceplate, revealing a handsome, chiseled visage. His gold eyes held the terrifying weight of a thousand lifetimes.

A crowd had gathered at the edge of the alley, recording the scene on lifted wrists and high-gain ocular implants.

A woman near the front lowered her camera slightly. Her recording kept running, but her smile vanished. She was not looking at the hero. She was staring at the strange badge on his jacket. A cobra with its fangs bared, swallowing the sun.

The Ruler of the Night was suddenly beside her.

A blast of wind whipped her hair across her face.

He snatched the camera from her hand and crushed it in his palm as if it were paper.

She gasped, her heel slipping in gore as she staggered backward.

His smoldering gaze then swept over the crowd, locking on the merchants cowering behind the nearest carts.

“You should not be running food stalls in this sector,” his deep rumbling baritone could be felt as well as heard. “The perimeter is unsafe. All contraband is forfeit. Go home.”

No one moved.

“NOW.” He swept one arm across the nearest cart. Skewers of Korean BBQ tumbled into the gutter.

The merchants turned and fled down the avenue abandoning their carts.

The Ruler of the Night did not watch them go. His eyes were on the lioness. "What news have you on the boy?"

The robotic beast settled beside him.

“Observe,” it projected security footage onto a grimy wall. “It is exactly as you predicted, my King. Their escape remains undetected.”

The flickering image showed a tall, muscular red-haired guard carrying the sleeping boy, his long white hair trailing across the floor. The guard was looking left and right as he crept out of the screen.

“Rewind.”

The lioness obeyed. “The relevant footage of the comatose boy begins at 6:32 pm.”

“Zoom in.”

The footage zoomed in on Jihoon, focusing on mist beginning to roll off his body.

“At 6:42 pm, REM sleep indicators.”

The footage zoomed back out, revealing the guard collapsing.

“At 6:53 pm, sensors detected a spike of energy at the exact moment the guard fainted.”

“Hmm.” The Ruler pointed to the fallen guard. “A call for help.”

“Yes, my King. The boy has exhibited two of your gifts. The mist and the extremely rare Dream Sight. He is immobile, not helpless. Congratulations, my King. You have created a strong fledgling. Does the child know the rules of the Blood Bond?”

The Ruler did not reply.

A slow, ruthless smile touched his lips. “Cancel the ceremony.”

The lioness’ heavy titanium tail stopped its rhythmic swaying.




On him, The Ruler of the Night:
Jacket: TRK - Losttune_Jacket_LEGACYM, white [mesh](CyberFair)(399L)
Cap: AURICA - Ray Cap [mesh](CyberFair)(249L)
Tattoo: MIDORI - Cyber Neck 07 [mesh](CyberFair)(399L)
Eyes: SHIMM - CYBER XV BONUS [BOM](CyberFair)(100L)
Pet: SEmotion Libellune - Felis Nexus Companion, Special [Animesh](CyberFair)(gacha 88L)
Sword: Mythic - [M] Claw Sword and Shield [mesh](CyberFair)(640L)
Pants: Savage - Blade Pants // LegacyM [mesh]
Headset: SOLE - SA Headset ARA2, Black [mesh]
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA - CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
Pose: momomuller - 3M gogogo 1-1

Setting:
Vending Machine: Cerridwen's Cauldron - Scifi Black Honey Coffee [mesh](CyberFair)(499L)
Background: Zeroichi - REITO Backdrop [mesh](CyberFair)(560L)

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots, hi-res, midday sky, default camera:






Sunday, August 30, 2026

Night Market: Shadow Serpent (Escape from Club Apophis, 54)

(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE:  ...This is how the world entered the Age of Apophis.

Forbidden Zone, 5 minutes to midnight. April 13, 2055

We are the Shadow of Apophis.
Our last Chosen One created wonders. She was kind. She kept us well fed. When she disappeared, we waited. We returned to choose another, as we have for millennia. A room full of beautiful devotees. Orderly, Hungry. Exactly as designed. Boring. We were about to leave. 

A boy stumbled in. Not invited. No idea where he was. No agenda. Chaos recognizes chaos. We chose him immediately. 

He ran. Running. Running. Running away into the storm.
The sun was still in the mouth of Apophis. So we followed.

A noisy man-bat swooped down, its shrieks blaring loud enough to give us a headache. Its claws were about to hook into the boy. Very annoying. We flicked our tail, cracking it through the air like lightning. Precision strike. Severed wings fluttered down.

Ahead, Void Nuns had amassed. Strange things. No pulse, no warmth, no eyes. Unacceptable. We dealt with them too.

“Come back to us, Lathandro..." We had whispered to him. "We love you... We miss your warmth..."

The boy ran harder. “My name is Yoon Jihoon. I’m a student. I study. I keep out of trouble. I had a normal life.”

Rejection. Again and again. We were patient. Time does not move in straight lines for us. It coils. We would wait.


Present Day

Now, the boy had nowhere left to run…

We adjusted our heavy coils, settling comfortably across the plush furniture. The cushions were decent, but they weren’t warm like proper temple stone. Still, we stayed put, guarding the comatose boy in the lavish quarters of his captor. Tomorrow, the loud creature in high heels would disturb the peace and try to unravel him.

We flicked our tail, annoyed. This whole situation was not how things were meant to be.

Our tongue flickered, tasting a sudden metallic disturbance in the air.

Thump.

We reared up, our eyes snapping to the balcony's glass door. Heat. Electrical vibration. And the unmistakable scent of Jihoon.

The unconscious body of the large red-haired guard slowly slid down the glass and collapsed into a sad little pile on the cold cement.

Something had changed.

We tasted the air, tracing a dark, delicious tendril of entropic energy straight back to Jihoon.

Our eyes shone, and the corners of our mouth upturned in a heavy, reptilian grin. The boy was finally reaching outward, using the only means he had. Power.

We sank into the boy’s dream den, slipping through thought, smooth and heavy as ink pooling into groundwater.


Dreamscape, The Robotics Classroom

This construct was new, created by Jihoon.

Deliberate. Intentional.

The boy’s other half was slouched in the darkest corner. Lathandro the Beautiful. Vanquished, bored, and quietly playing PONG with our ancient, sacred Apophian glyphs. The LED lighting of the desk screen made his forlorn face ghostly.

Lathandro noticed us. He offered his hand with serpentine grace. Lovely.

We accepted a quick, delightful head-scratch, then turned our gaze to the other one. Jihoon the Desperate. He was a miserable snakelet, stubbornly refusing to shed old skin. He was hunched over a desk, beside the fake metallic dog, frantically tapping a glowing surface. Light strobed across his face.

“Come on, come on… Get a signal out.”

We slithered down from the upper shelves, our dark form gliding lazily across the desks to get closer to the warm pulse of Jihoon’s voice.

Suddenly, the air ripped open overhead.

The red-haired boy materialized and fell into the room in an ungraceful mess, hitting the linoleum floor with a loud, disruptive crash.

"What the..." the guard scrambled up, staring wildly at the glowing classroom monitors before his eyes landed on Jihoon.

"Kyle!" Jihoon beamed, leaping up from his seat to embrace his friend. "I don’t know how long I can hold this connection. Quickly. Tell me everything that’s happening out there."

“Stop hugging me!” Kyle shrugged Jihoon off. “Damn, I just had the craziest dream. Thanks for letting me fall asleep in class, Nerd.” He smacked Jihoon on the head.

We reared up instantly, our hood flaring wide, casting the Vile One in the blackest shadow.

Kyle squeaked and fell over backward. “Oh, shit. Not that thing again.”

Lathandro struck before we could, grinding his foot hard into Kyle's chest on the floor. “You just hit me for the last time, Kyle. When I wake up,” he sneered, “I’m gonna break every bone in your…”

“Who the hell are you?” Kyle spat back. “Jihoon’s ugly albino twin sister?”

“Wait, wait,” Jihoon laughed nervously, arms flailing between them. “Everyone… please. Calm down. We don’t have time for this.” He turned to Kyle. “You’ve seen the snake before? I thought I was the only one who could see it.”

"Yeah, I’ve seen it.” Kyle panted, slowly climbing back to his feet and backing away. "When Hwan smashed the Black Snakeskin Box, this massive bastard burst loose and screeched. Almost shit myself. Hwan told us it was returning to its master. Said if we followed it, it would lead us right to you.”

The Delivery Box? Yes, the Dokkaebi smashed our beautiful nest. Very rude. It was a failure anyway. No gift we materialized made Jihoon love us.

Lathandro stood down, removing his foot. We wrapped ourselves around him like a massive, oversized boa constrictor, though we kept glaring at Kyle just on principle.

"Kyle, please. Sit down," Jihoon said softly, righting a chair.

Kyle hesitated, looking at our massive coils suspiciously.

Lathandro slid into the chair beside Jihoon, looking down his nose at the redhead. “Relax, Asshole. It’s more scavenger than predator. Besides, it won’t hurt you without permission. If it wanted, you’d already be dust in the wind.”

“Can someone please tell me why Twisted Sister is shooting sass at me?”

Lathandro rolled his eyes. “I am Jihoon, idiot, the better version of him. The one that won’t hesitate to hit you back.” He began to stroke our dark scales, right under the chin where we love it. “He’s not as scary as he seems. He’s lazy. He likes warmth, easy meals... you know, snake things.” He looked over at Jihoon. “You would know that too, if you stopped running away from it.”

Lathandro turned back to us and cooed in a ridiculous high voice, “Who’s the goodest Snakepoo? It’s you! It’s you!”

We melted. It was embarrassing, really, but his pets were too good. We moved our tail to gently tap the top of Lathandro’s pretty head, mimicking his petting movements. Then, feeling generous, we extended our tip to pet Jihoon too.

See? We are nice. Love us.

A forked tongue flicked out of Lathandro’s exquisite mouth at the exact same time as ours.

Jihoon shrieked.

He jumped out of the chair so fast it overturned with a loud crash.

We tasted Fear. Thick and pungent.

Jihoon stared at Lathandro. Then at us. His hand slowly rose to his mouth. “Oh, God.”

“Okay...” Kyle shook his head, thoroughly bewildered. “So this is not the strangest shit I’ve seen since stepping into the Zone, but it’s definitely in the ranking.” He shivered as if a cold breeze went up his back. “I get that this is a dream or something. Yin and Yang, perhaps. But what I don’t get is why one of you would know something the other doesn’t if you are the same person?”

Jihoon slumped and looked away. “Here’s the deal, as best as I understand it. Everything changed the moment I entered Club Apophis.” His voice faltered, hands wringing in his lap. “I saw it, a shape darker than black. It was looking right at me. The Serpent. A lot of shit happened after that. Don’t ask me how or what it means, because I don’t know. My memory is fractured. I just know whatever was happening to me stopped when I ran.”

“Alright,” Kyle clenched his jaw. “Since I'm the one who shoved you into the Zone, this is all my fault. What do you want from me?”

Jihoon’s voice turned serious. “Be my bodyguard. Protect me. Be my legs because I can’t move.”

“Already on it, Boss. Next.”

“There is something else I want. A favor. But before I tell you, please tell me everything that’s happening out there. So I might know if I made the right decision.”

Kyle nodded.

We only half listened. We wanted to know what the decision was. We wondered if Lathandro was also curious.

"You want the quick version?” Kyle folded his arms, his eyes darting between Jihoon and our shadowy coils. “The Zone is a slaughterhouse run by Monstrum. We found trapped people being auctioned off to monsters like live bait. And MasterGin? Slavery disguised as plastic surgery. We even found a dead nun who tried to go back in time to stop all this. Named Sophia.”

Jihoon went very still.

Emotions clouded the air. Fear. Rage. Heartbreak.

He touched his throat. “Did she wear a gold rope necklace with a snake head and tail?”

“Hmm. Most of the nuns wear little snake brooches, pins, that kind of thing. But now that you mention it... yeah, hers wasn't a brooch. It was the whole necklace. Like a real snake, coiled all the way around her neck. Kind of hard to miss.”

The dreamscape flickered.

We bowed our head. Our Dearest Sophia. The boy had discovered the truth we hid for so long. A small mercy.

Jihoon looked away. He turned colder.

Moments passed as no one spoke.

“You doing ok there, buddy?”

“Continue,” he replied softly.

Kyle hesitated. “Uh... okay.” In a hushed voice, he described the many horrors in the Zone and what had happened to Jihoon’s classmates.

We yawned. Our long, sharp fangs fully deployed. The darkness of our throat leaked out in tendrils of black smoke.

The conversation died.

We opened our eyes, surprised.

The three boys were staring at us.

Fear, once more.

If we could blush, we would have. We tried to look cute and friendly. Having no success, we pouted. We slithered away and curled around the desk where Jihoon had sat, our coils swallowing the robotic dog beneath them.

Kyle inched his chair away and looked back at Jihoon. “So now you know everything. What’s the plan?”

A plan?

We leaned in, excitement accidentally rattling our tail.

“Wake up. Pick up my body and run. Go to the Safe Zone. With any luck, the others are there. We’re getting everyone the hell out of here.”

Kyle suddenly disappeared, cut off before he could react. 

Lathandro bolted out of his chair. “But I’ll never wake up! The Ceremony is tomorrow!”

“Fuck it.” Jihoon stood, fists clenched. “You don’t get it. I’m a lost cause. You’re always reminding me. I caught on fire in fucking daylight! I’m a monster now. One person has already died trying to save me. Mom.” His voice faltered, tears running down his cheeks. “No one. I mean NO ONE is going to die for me. Understand? This shit-show ends now.”

We tasted the air. Fear. Rage. Grief. And something else. Resolve. The boy was no longer running.

Jihoon looked over at us. The fierce expression on his tear-stained face made our hearts flutter. “Don’t try to stop me.”

We approached timidly.

Jihoon did not recoil.

We lowered our head.

Time seemed to stop.

We wait. Patiently wait. Still waiting.

We had been waiting for this since before he was born.

There.

At last. A trembling hand lightly touched our scales.

We listen. We obey.

Lathandro paced the room frantically. Then finally he stopped and looked at his other self. “You’re not leaving me behind. You are me. You need me. When you hesitate, I act. When you’re weak, I’m strong.”

Jihoon held out his hand to Lathandro. “Then let’s stop fighting. From now on, we are one.”

Lathandro took his hand without doubt. “We are one.”

We put our tail tip on top of their joined hands. “We… Are… One…”

Time to shed old skin.

We wrapped our coils around the two boys. In our embrace, their bodies dissolved into tendrils of black smoke. When our coils fell away, there stood only one boy.


It was complete.

“Good boy.” The Chosen One reached over and petted us the way we liked. “Ready?”

He had eyes like us. Teal.

We nodded. Eager.

His pupils narrowed into black slits. His hand pointed forward dramatically. It was exactly like the stunning posters of Prince Lathandro plastered all over the Forbidden Zone.

“Clear the path. Go now!”




On him, Lathandro:
Eyes: Goetia - Thorned Umbral Eyes- Light Green [BOM](Night Market)[150L]
Eyeshadow: A.D.D.Andel  - Gloss Shadows-Teal [BOM](Night Market)[130L]
Crown: ARCHIVEFACTION - Requiem Crown [mesh]
Gloves: ARCHIVEFACTION - Sacremorne Knight Gauntlets_Silver_Legacy M [mesh]
Shoulders, collar: BUFFY'S - Gwendolyn Neck Piece - LegacyA [mesh]
Gown: Soapberry - .SB. Rune Gown - LegacyA [mesh]
Veil: Grasshopper - ST GHS Wedding Veil [mesh](300L) 
Shine: ARANA - Dragon Body Shine 3D HQ (2K) [Applier]
Strings: YUEBIN - Bound in Bloom - [Legacy Ath] [mesh]
Stocking: YUEBIN - Spider Charm - LegacyA, 5 [mesh]

Hair: Aii - Necromantic Hair, HAIR HELL [mesh]
Tongue: Clover - Lizard set, tongue [mesh]

Pet: MoonRabbit - MR SNEK SPIRIT [mesh]

Skin: outernaked - #evox - juhoon skin [NF: natural] - nb [BOM]

Head, bloody tattoos: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
Pose: momomuller / 3M - [3M]**_w5_0

On him, Yoon Jihoon:
Outfit: PENDULUM - EMILIEN.Suit - LEGACY M [mesh]
Dagger: ARCHIVEFACTION - Requiem Dagger [mesh]
Hair: TRASH - Pumpkins Hair - v1 - Fatpack [mesh]
Crown: UNA - Ruise crown Silver [mesh]
Necklace: Oblivis - Secret Bastion Key Necklace M SILVER [mesh]
Shoes: Deadwool - Dandy shoes - non rigged - black/silver wingtip [mesh](360L)
Rings: RAWR - Battie Rings Legacy Male [mesh]
Earrings: BADa - Cross B Earrings [mesh]
Claws: Subject Thirteen - Solstice Set - LegacyA [mesh]

Skin: outernaked - #evox - juhoon skin [NF: natural] - wb [BOM]

Head, bloody tattoos: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
Pose: Tableau Vivant - TheCageM5

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots, hi-res, midday sky:








Sunday, November 9, 2025

Salvage Station, Camp Syndicate: The Hunting Ground (Escape from Club Apophis, 26)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: The plan was in ashes. 

Minjo’s hand trembled with the cold fury of an intellectual whose entire framework had just been shattered. Her weapon stayed leveled at Hwan’s chest.

“You destroyed it,” she spat, the words tight. “Our plan. Our tech. Our only way to reach Kyra. You just... ended it.”

“I destroyed a beacon,” Hwan replied, his amber eyes flat and unfeeling. “You weren’t contacting your friend. You were ringing a dinner bell. Patrols will be here in minutes. You can stay...”

He turned his back on them, a profound act of dismissal, and stepped through the shimmering boundary of the Forbidden Zone.

“...or you can follow me to your friends.”

“Wait!” Echo cried.

Then came the sound. It began in the distance, a high-pitched, metallic shriek threading through the forest, - a choir of knives being sharpened in the dark. It was getting closer.

Minjo lowered her weapon, rage cooling to pure survival logic. “Everyone... pack light. Now.”

Ghost, the silent protector, was already moving. He grabbed a small Prepper’s wind-up generator, and shoved a knife in his belt. As he crossed the veil, the faint blue light of his halo-gloves glitched, fizzled, and died. His digital voice went with it. Now he truly was mute.

The world turned gray. The air thickened instantly, pressing in with a physical weight, saturated with the smell of dust, rust, and long-dead carcasses.

“We don’t go over. We go under,” Hwan commanded, his voice a low gravel in the dead air. He motioned to the skeletal city ahead. “The Sisters patrol the streets. We take the tunnels.”

Hwan strode toward a wide service entrance. A quick, open route.

Ghost froze. He grabbed Minjo’s arm, his grip like a steel clamp. 

He knew the main tunnels were patrolled, often flooded, thanks to the Smart Chip map. And Hwan himself, was a creature of the Zone, an eater of souls. He was leading them too calmly, too openly. Ghost trusted his own instincts more.

Fifty yards away lay a forgotten manhole, rimmed with rust. Smaller. Deeper. Safer.

He shook his head at Hwan’s silhouette. Then, with the tip of his knife, he scratched two words in the dirt: Separate. Follow.

Minjo’s eyes flashed with understanding. This was one of Ghost's insights, another of his "mic drops" delivered in steel and dirt. He was betting their lives on the Underground Catacomb Map burned into his memory.

He wrenched the manhole cover aside. The metal screamed in the silence. He gestured, "Down. Now."

One by one, they slipped into the pitch-black. The cover sealed above them with a dull, final thud.

They vanished.

For five agonizing minutes, they moved cautiously in blind, suffocating silence. The only sound was the rhythmic drip... drip... drip... of water, echoing in the vast dark. Ghost felt his way along the cold stone walls, while his other hand held a lifeline to Echo. Every breath was a risk. Every step was calculated.

Then he stopped.

The tunnel was wrong. There was a sheer wall where a fork should be. The map in his head dissolved. The subtle turns, the new forks. The data was bad. He was lost.

He froze, one arm raised in warning. Doubt, a feeling he despised, flickered in his mind like static. He had failed them.

He had no choice. He pulled the generator from his belt and began to crank. The grinding noise was obscenely loud. The halo-gloves flared a weak, ghostly blue, casting their terrified faces in eerie light as he frantically tried to access the map file.

“Lost already, Ghost?”

The voice sliced through the dark, not twenty feet away.

Hwan stepped from a side tunnel, his amber eyes like twin suns in the void. He’d been waiting.

"Your choice was clever, Little Shinobi,” Hwan said evenly. “But this is my home. I carved these holes. I know where they all bleed. You should have known a map on a decades old smart chip was out of date."

He tilted his head toward the damning blue glow. “Now snuff that light. You’re ringing the bell again.”

Ghost obeyed, his jaw tight. The light died, plunging them back into a darkness that felt heavier, more hostile. His gamble had failed. His insight was wrong.

They moved on. They had little choice. Hwan was now in the lead.

The tunnels grew narrower, the air moldy and old. A soft vibration hummed through the ground, a low-frequency thrum that they felt in their teeth, like the Zone itself was breathing.

Hwan stopped suddenly. He didn't lift a hand. He simply ceased. “Hold,” he breathed, the sound barely a whisper.

A stillness fell, heavier than the darkness.

“They’re close,” Hwan whispered. “The Sisters see like snakes, they hunt heat and motion. They smell power. And they feed on sight. Do not move. Do not bleed. And do not look, no matter what you hear.”

Above them, a wide sewer grate. Beyond it, gray daylight filtered through dead leaves.

A shadow moved across it. Something gliding, jointed and wrong. The rustle of heavy fabrics.

A procession.

Plague made a strangled sound, half-gasp, half-prayer. Ghost pressed a heavy hand to his shoulder: Silence.

One of the Sisters paused directly above them.

Her habit, stiff with dried blood, brushed the grate. She sniffed the air, neck twitching like a bird. She could smell them. She could smell the residue of the generator, the faint, delicious trace of power from the device they’d just shut down.

Echo clenched her fists until her nails drew blood. Her need to do things right screamed inside her skull. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t....

The Sister lingered above, the click of rosary beads too close, too hungry.

Then, a metallic creak. The grate above them shifted.

A second later, something dark and slender slipped through the bars.

Metal scraped on stone, -- slow, deliberate.

The Nun was descending into the tunnel.

No one moved.

Echo bit her lip until she tasted blood. Minjo’s fingers hovered over her weapon. Plague was trembling, his breath a ragged, silent scream.

Ghost didn’t look. He couldn't.

He drew his knife by feel alone, holding it low, angled for silence. The sharp steel of the blade caught the Nun's swirling light, reflecting it as a single, dull-red glint.

The thing crawled closer, its joints cracking, its robes whispering against the wet floor. Its breath, if it could be called that, came in ragged pulls, tasting for life.

Hwan’s rule, a memory in their heads: They see through motion. They feed through eyes.

A drop of something, not water, fell onto Ghost’s shoulder.

It hissed.

He froze, holding his breath.





On Him, Ghost:
Cowl: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Coat: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Knife: FOE - Tsarkknife [mesh](Salvage Station)(699L)
Pants: Rebis - Werk Trousers [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(350L)
Mask: Pucca Firecaster Creations - PFC Ninja (Male) [mesh]
Headband: :::Last Ride::: 47 Samurai/Headband back [mesh]
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]

Setting:
Cursed Nun: Orphic - Dreadveil + Male (Full-body cloak)[mesh](Camp Syndicate)(599L)
Setting: Dreadmorne - Dungeon/Catacombs Building kit [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(1500L)

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky. 






Saturday, October 11, 2025

Engine Room: Birth of Monstrum (Escape from Club Apophis 21)

(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE: The brass ring shuddered to life, gears grinding as the hologram burst into shape, projecting the scene into the center of the workshop. The view was from a pocket of time thick with the grime of the industrial age. Gaslights sputtered, casting a sickly yellow glow on wet cobblestones. They weren’t watching history. They were trespassing in it.

ARCHIVAL RECORDING — CHICAGO, FEBRUARY 14, 1929

The speakeasy pulsed with brass and gun oil, jazz horns bleeding through the haze of cigarette smoke. Beyond the bar’s false wall, men in pinstripes and fedoras polished Tommy guns, their voices sharp with the kind of bravado born from knowing the law itself had abandoned this city.

At the far end of the room, seated as though on twin thrones, were two figures no gangster would dare disturb.

The Ruler leaned on his cane, the cut of his coat immaculate, his features marbled in the elegance of old courts. He looked out over the tables with the disdain of a monarch forced to sit among peasants. His deep voice was velvet over steel when he spoke:

“Since the War, crowns topple like dominos. Kings strangled by parliaments. Czars executed by mobs. Maximilian Spyder whispers his poison into the ears of the newborn of our kind, turning subjects into citizens.” He spat the word like a curse. "Weakness masquerading as liberty."

Beside him, lounging with insolent ease, MasterGin twirled the stem of a coupe glass between long fingers. His smile was a smear of lacquered sin under the low light.

“Oh, listen to you,” Gin drawled. “The last Emperor of Shadows, pouting because the world doesn’t curtsey with quite the same flourish. Monarchies fall, darling, because they are boring. People want jazz, motorcars that roar like beasts, liquor brewed in bathtubs filthy enough to make them forget they’re mortal." He lifted his glass, catching the light. "And I, for one, adore it."

The Ruler’s eyes narrowed. “Industry belches smoke. It pollutes everything. Filth. Men who sit on factory thrones possess no bloodline, no divine mandate. They are merchants playing at godhood. And you...” he leaned in, “why do I suffer you, jester? Why should I not unmake you here and now?”

Gin’s laughter was silk on a knife’s edge. He leaned closer, brushing his hand, featherlight, against the Ruler’s chest, daring the strike.

“Because, my King,” he whispered, eyes gleaming with decadent amusement, “without me, your immaculate mausoleum of a world is unbearably dull. Admit it, Horemheb. You crave my disorder. My sin. My razzle-dazzle. Without a little glorious sin there's nothing to correct.”

The Ruler stiffened, outraged by the touch. “You dare defile my righteous presence with your corruption, in a public house? I should kill you for it.”

Gin only tilted his head, his grin curling like smoke. “Tell me again, my King, how wicked I am. Say it slowly this time.”

The Ruler’s nostrils flared. “Pervert. Worshipper of Apophis.”

“And you,” Gin countered, “are the greater pervert. Because nothing excites you more than watching purity rot.” The tension between them was electric, sharper than the knives hidden in the gangsters’ coats. Gin leaned in closer still, his voice hushed and venomous. “Even your goddess Ma’at, keeper of order, never demanded the destruction of chaos, only balance. That’s why you don’t kill me, my King. Because together,” his hand traced the Ruler’s arm, insolent and intimate, “we are balance.”

The Ruler’s lips parted—perhaps in denial, perhaps in warning—when the world dissolved into a percussive nightmare.

Bullets tore through the opulent room as glass rained like diamonds. In the smoky haze, men screamed, their fine suits blossoming with crimson. The Ruler staggered, not from the force, but from the sheer insult as hot metal ripped through his side. His face, a hardened mask of granite, twisted not with pain, but with the absolute outrage of a god whose temple has been defiled by insects.

From the shadows of the victorious side, a single, portly figure in a fine suit watched his men execute the last of their rivals, a cigar clenched in his teeth. He was the architect of the carnage. The Ruler’s burning gaze fell upon him.

In the space between heartbeats, the immortal was upon him, his hand gripping the man’s throat, lifting his considerable weight effortlessly off the ground. The cigar dropped, showering embers on the floor. The gangster's psychotic glee vanished, his eyes bulging with terror. He stared at the bullet holes in his captor's chest, at the man who should be dead but wasn't.

The Ruler spat curses in the tongue of Pharaohs, each syllable an avalanche of titles and divine rights, before his voice dropped to a whisper that cut through the cacophony. "
You command with fear and coin. An empire of grime."

"Wait, darling," MasterGin cooed, gliding to their side with an artist's appreciation. He circled the pair, tapping a long finger against his chin. "Don't smash the new toy. He's an absolute couture specimen of the age. All brutal ambition and vulgar appetites. Like a tailored suit cut from filth." He leaned in, sniffing the air around the gangster. "He absolutely reeks of it. Greed. A vulgar, but undeniably powerful, perfume. We could learn from this one.”

The Ruler’s grip loosened, and he dropped the man. The mob boss collapsed in a heap, coughing and rubbing his throat before pushing himself to his feet.

"Name’s Capone," he wheezed, straightening his tie, fear already masked by opportunism. "You two aren't from Chicago, but I know power when I see it. Maybe we can do business."

The Ruler sneered, a look of profound disgust. He turned his back on the mortal, a gesture of ultimate dismissal. He no longer saw a man, but a lesson. His gaze swept across the carnage, and for the first time, he truly saw it. This was not chaos. It was a hostile takeover.

The billowing smoke, tainted by the coppery reek of blood, was the new incense. The staccato rhythm of a fallen pocket watch, ticking its last seconds on the floor, was the new hymn. He looked at the dead men, not as warriors, but as assets, expended. His eyes fell upon the Tommy gun, its polished wood and blued steel a marvel of mechanical death. Beside it lay a fallen briefcase, burst open to reveal stacks of money—prayers to a new, paper god.

This was the new order. An empire not of faith and bloodlines, but of gears, capital, and mass-produced violence. His divine right was a useless relic here.

"He commanded them with this," The Ruler said, his voice a low rumble. He nudged the machine gun with his foot. "And paid them with worthless paper." He motioned toward the cash. "A throne of bullets and false wealth. While we were gods. That man…” he gestured dismissively toward Capone, “…he does not demand worship. He buys it. He doesn't need a crown. He doesn't even need gold. He has paper men believe is worth dying for.”

"Savage, yet it has a certain… panache," MasterGin said. "Don't you find mortal delusions fascinating?"

The Ruler was silent for a long moment, the chaos of the scene reflected in his ancient eyes. Then, he smiled. It was a chilling sight, devoid of all warmth, the expression of a predator discovering a richer hunting ground.

"You were right, Lucien," he said, his voice ringing with the cold clarity of a funeral bell.

He knelt, not in reverence, but in appraisal, and picked up a single, blood-spattered dollar bill. As he turned it over, his gaze fell upon the pyramid on its reverse. A sneer twisted his lips.

“They dare inscribe my tomb upon their paper and call it theirs.” With a contemptuous rip, he tore the bill in half, shredding the All-Seeing Eye from the pyramid.

"Mortals never change, only what they value does," he said, his voice resonant with terrifying certainty. "We will not command armies, but corporations. Our new priests will be their politicians, their CEOs, their bankers. We will amass wealth beyond the dreams of Pharaohs and control their world from the shadows."

He stood, crumbling the blood-soaked shreds in his fist, his eyes burning with a new, terrible purpose. "We will build a syndicate on the foundation of their avarice."

He looked at Gin, his gaze alight with fire.

Gin’s smile sharpened, a blade curving upwards. “The serpent swallows the sun. A Mafia of Monsters.”

(Present Day, 2055)

The hologram flickered and died. The swirling vortex of Roman numerals in the brass ring collapsed into nothing, leaving only the sound of ticking gears in the sudden silence of the workshop.

Minjo, Echo, Ghost, and Plague stood frozen, their faces pale in the soft glow of the vacuum tubes.

They hadn't just found a major clue. They had just witnessed the birth of Monstrum.


I hope you all like this Art Deco themed travel to the past. Readers of my blog and this Apophis series got a treat this chapter, the scoop on the Ruler, MasterGin and Monstrum!  ....From the current Engine Room round, is a gorgeous suit and accessories from ArchiveFaction. I love the over the shoulder coat, I wore for half the year their other shoulder coat, it's so great to have a new style. You get what pieces you like, or buy the whole set. I used the Fatpack for Jacket to show some more retro warm colors. The brooch on the lapel is a gift from this round. It's mod, so I tinted it gold.   ...Over at Androgyny Event, are the Coffin Core Glasses by Phase. It's mod so you can scale the size for a perfect fit, and tint the frame and lenses.   ...MasterGin is wearing Priscilla Dress which comes with fits for Reborn-Burly Pecs-Mounds-V-tech-Waifu, and Legacy Athletic. The Dress is semi-transparent lace with corset. I dressed it up as a crossover between 1910s and 1920s.  ...The Swiss miss hairpins are ZAP hair 146 at Engine Room. It's mod so you can turn on masking, or tint.  ...From Guild is a wonderful neck corset that makes me think of a train grill. It's a fun look.   ...From AURO is the Ritzy Opera Cigarette holder. I love me a long steam cigarette holder, and let me pick clove cigarettes too! It has 4 AO animations.   ...From the Muses is lovely retro style BOM undergarment, The Alanguie Chemise. It's wonderfully made with nice texture details. It comes in either black or ivory.   ...From Cult are the Agatha Boots with a guillotine heel!  Twisted, and perfect for Halloween.   ...From Static is the Sultry Parasol of black satin and lace. Just wear it and it will trigger a pose animation.   ...From Duplexity is a table that worked perfectly for the Art Deco themed room, the Pathfinder's set with Table, stools, and Relic. It's PBR enabled and looks great with advanced lighting. I did something crazy and uses the Stools as Plant stands. They were mod, so I could scale them up or down and they matched the table perfectly!   ....The setting is unlike anything else in SL, a truly Art Deco style room with all the lux glitz too.  I added to the wall custom wall carving for the Sun and Apophis. I think it worked out pretty well.  .... (Yes, I spent a lot of time working on this chapter. With lots of new events are coming for Halloween, I will be very busy, so I might have to pause Apophis for a bit. I will do what I can!)


On him, The Ruler of the Night:
Jacket: Archivefaction Penumbra Blazer_Legacy M, fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(1650L)
Tie: Archivefaction Penumbra Tie_Legacy M [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Pants: Archivefaction Penumbra Trousers_Black_Legacy M [mesh](Engine Room)(330L)
Cloak: Archivefaction Penumbra Cloak_Black_Unrigged [mesh](Engine Room)(550L)
Gloves: Archivefaction Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh](Engine Room)(550L)
Brooch: Archivefaction Penumbra Albert Chain_PBR [mesh](Engine Room)(Gift)
Shades: PHASE Coffin Core Glasses [mesh] (Androgyny Event)(250L)
Hat: CRYPTID Noir Fedora [mesh]
Staff: David Heather Ankh Staff [mesh]
Shoes: Deadwool Dandy shoes - non rigged - black/silver wingtip [mesh](360L)
Head: LeLUTKA CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, MasterGin:
Outfit: BUFFY'S Priscilla Dress - Legacy M. Ath [mesh](Engine Room)(999L)
Hair: ZAO +146 Hair [mesh](Engine Room)(432L)
Collar: Gild legacy(m/A)  Neck corset_FATPACK [mesh](Engine Room)(185L)
Cigarette: AURO Ritzy Opera Cigarette - Without Smoke [mesh](Engine Room)(299L)
Underwear: The Muses - Alanguie Chemise - BOM - Inke [mesh](Engine Room)(250L)
Boots: CULT Agatha - Legacy Male  [mesh]
Parasol: Static Sultry Parasol {Nautilus} [mesh]
Gloves: Starchild Designs Flapper #5 Gloves [BOM]
Head: LeLUTKA CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:
Table, Globe, stools: Duplexity Pathfinder's Seat, Table, Relic [mesh](Engine Room)(399L)
Background: Dirty Rat Art Deco Lobby, Backdrop [mesh](495L)
Chairs: Architect Arcadia Armchair [mesh]
Glass, bottles: ISHIKU Dionae Gilded Crystal Glass set [mesh]
Leafy Palm: Soy Potted Traveler's Palm Tree [mesh](75L)
Hanging plant: Soy Super long Hanging Hedera [mesh](75L)
Ferns: Soy Voluminous Potted Ferns [mesh] (100L)

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky. (Note: Undergarments shown)