Showing posts with label Blue Blood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blue Blood. Show all posts

Monday, October 19, 2026

Engine Room / Camp Syndicate: Scoop of the Century 3 (Escape from Club Apophis, 62)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Apophis ATELIER Underground, 5:00 PM

"A bit of advice, my dear. Never show weakness in a place like this."

MasterGin smirked, gloating over his victory. The sopping-wet teddy bear hung impaled on his manicured claws.

That bear held every piece of raw footage detailing the atrocities inside the Forbidden Zone, the only real evidence that could blow the story wide open and save the people trapped inside.

Without thinking, Lisa shoved him hard and snatched the soaked bear from his grip. Was it reckless? Absolutely. But you didn't become the lead investigative reporter on the Hexa Herald by playing it safe.

MasterGin’s pale eyes widened, his sharp face twisting into righteous indignation. Hissing, fangs gleaming, he seized the plushie back and flung it into a nearby trashcan with crisp precision.

Lisa watched it vanish beneath a pile of discarded silk scraps. A trail of wet stuffing and gray sludge marked its undignified trail across the polished white marble floor.

She stared down at her empty, soiled hands. Was this the end of the line? Was he going to kill her now? Would the relentless clatter of automated sewing machines be the last thing she ever heard? Or would she take her final breath surrounded by the heavy stench of clove cigarettes?

She felt sick.

MasterGin whipped a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket with an elegant snap of the wrist. Then he did something entirely unexpected: he took her dirty hands and began wiping them clean.

Lisa froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Wh-what are you doing?"

His touch was surprisingly gentle. He wasn't just wiping away the mud. His thumb massaged the tense muscles of her palms and fingers with firm, rhythmic pressure. He stepped closer, so close she could hear the soft intake of his breath. Lisa studied him, seizing the rare chance to examine an ancient vampire up close. His skin was flawless, no scars, not even the shadow of beard stubble, yet he looked paler than usual, faint violet shadows bruised beneath his eyes. Stressed? Overworked?

His thumb lingered over the pulse point on her wrist. His pale eyes held hers a fraction too long before he released her hands and stepped away.

"I don't make the rules," he said softly.

Her fingers trembled where his skin had touched hers. What was this, vampire jujutsu? Her palms felt slightly damp, coated in a faint floral fragrance. When she glanced down, a shimmering blue sheen glinted across her skin before soaking into her pores.

MasterGin flicked his chin toward the security camera mounted above his office doorway. One of its optical lenses zoomed in, focusing on them.

"Come with me."

He spun on his heels.

Lisa glanced at the camera. The watcher being watched? By who?

"Note to self," she murmured into her halophone mic. "My file on MasterGin needs a complete rewrite."

When she didn't move, he paused and glanced back, annoyance flicking across his features. "You want the Scoop of the Century. I want you to stop dripping sewer sludge on my imported marble. Come. I'll make it worth your while."

She hated herself for trailing after him like a stray puppy.

Steam hissed from the industrial pressing irons. Beneath the smell of hot starch and clove smoke, something older and far sweeter lay rotting.

As they walked, she secretly snapped rapid photos of the subterranean factory line, the towering looms, the demonic laborers, and the racks of multi-million dollar gowns.

MasterGin stopped beside a illuminated garment rack.

"This one." He pulled out a metallic gown that caught the factory lights like polished gold and held it up against her shoulder. "The bronze next to your golden complexion is divine."

"I can pick whatever I want?" She brushed past him, her eyes scanning the rack for the most ridiculously expensive price tag.

"Of course." He sounded amused by her sudden enthusiasm. "Do you doubt my generosity? I sent Yoon Jihoon dozens of custom pieces. I even formulated a specialized transdermal barrier that would have kept his skin from combusting in front of a stadium full of cameras."

Was that true, or just more theatrical bullshit?

"My flaw is not so different from yours, my dear. I merely wish to protect what is mine," MasterGin sighed, tossing her a heavy crystal bottle labeled SPF 100 Nano-Enhanced Sunscreen. "Would you believe that little Robotics Witch forced my sweet boy to incinerate every garment and gift I sent him? Pieces worth more than she'll earn in twenty lifetimes."

Lisa scanned the microscopic ingredient list on the bottle before slipping it securely into her dirty pocket. "He would've worn it if he actually knew what it was."

"His 'genius' girlfriend believed dime-store sunscreen could shield my precious creation from full glare daylight. He chose to follow her instead of me." His high-heeled foot stamped with irritation. "Rejecting my vision... for what? A Temu Scully?"

Lisa stared at the genuine, wounded expression on his face. "She's a scientist. How was she to supposed know things that aren’t real are real?" she blurted. "And I'm a reporter. I've got questions. Tell me what's real. But first..." She thrust the heaviest, most elaborate dress on the rack directly toward his face. "I want this one."

He raised an eyebrow.

"So I can have it?" Lisa pressed.

MasterGin slid a gilded privacy screen between them. "If you put it on immediately, yes. I refuse to let a sewer rat ruin the aesthetic of my private club."

He turned his back as the heavy fabric began to rustle behind the screen.

"Jihoon, eat your heart out," Lisa chuckled to herself, pulling gigantic elaborate gown over her shoulders. "I'm not burning shit. But you know I'm hocking this on eBay the second I get out of here, right?"

"Do what you will." MasterGin waved off her taunt as he pulled back the screen to inspect the drape. "It belongs to you now."

With swift, practiced grace, he gathered her tangled hair, twisting her braids into an intricate crown and pinning it in place with a sharp, winged gold tiara.

He snapped his fingers. A small demonic tailor shuffled out from behind the looms.

"Allow this gentleman to make the final adjustments. It will take only a moment."

Lisa opened her mouth to protest, the creature's skin was gross, its fingers tipped with long bone needles, but before she could take a breath, the work was finished.

The dress shifted, instantly tightening against her ribs, sculpting her silhouette into a flawless hour-glass without pinching her lungs.

"Whoa, neat trick! A corset built under a dress, but with no pain. What the hell kind of mystery fabric is this?"

The demonic tailor handed MasterGin a glowing halophone pad.

MasterGin lowered his tinted glasses, scrolling through the high-resolution displays before zooming in on a wireframe contour.

"Whatcha looking at?" Lisa stood on her tiptoes, trying to peek over his shoulder.

The screen displayed a full three-dimensional wireframe of her body, complete with precise volumetric measurements down to the millimeter.

"What the hell! Did that creepy thing just run a full-body scan on me?"

"You're welcome." MasterGin handed the pad back to the tailor. "Transmit these files to the clinic immediately. Have three complete looks prepared for her by tomorrow morning. I want her to dazzle."

The tailor bowed low and scampered into the shadows.

MasterGin raised a long, slender finger, gesturing for her to follow as he moved toward the exit. "That weave is strictly banned under UN regulatory accords. Fortunately, our syndicate doesn't recognize laws or international treaties. But be careful on eBay... I strongly recommend selling it on the Dark Web if you want full market value, instead of prison stripes."

Lisa stopped dead on the cold floor.

Unbelievable. He destroys her hard-won evidence, violates her personal space, scans her body without consent... and acts like he's doing her a favor.

"You’re a real fucking creep, you know that?" she yelled across the vast factory floor.

Every demonic worker along the assembly line froze. Dozens of yellow eyes turned to stare at her in stunned silence.

Lisa glanced nervously at the audience, swallowed hard, and gathered her heavy skirts. She sprinted after him, her bare feet padding against the cold marble.

Heavy hydraulic doors with the Monstrum logo carved on it hissed open into an underground dock. MasterGin was already seated inside a matte-black VIP hoverlimo, tapping his claws impatiently against the leather armrest.

"Seriously? I feel like I'm riding shotgun to Hell's Met Gala." She shook her head, though she had to admit the vampire had style.

Getting her enormous layered gown and its long train into the narrow door required brute force.

Thwack.

A thick wave of stiff crinoline and structured lace slapped MasterGin squarely across the face. The netting bounced off his cheek, completely collapsing his Marilyn hairstyle. 

He froze.

Closed his eyes.

Inhaled slowly.

Exhaled.

Then with deliberate composure, he extracted himself from the mountain of black lace and ribbon, smoothed his hair back into place, and rested his chin on his hand as if nothing had occurred.

Lisa stared at him, waiting for a reaction. She leaned closer, eyes gleaming, daring him to acknowledge the violation of his dignity.

His long claws clicked a rapid rhythm against the door. He kept his gaze locked on the dark tinted windows. Then, abruptly, his fist slammed down on the intercom button.

"Mirror, prepare the vat immediately."

"Understood, Master," a bright, synthetic British voice chirped through the speakers. "How much shall I prepare?"

"A face's worth."

"Very well. I shall have it warm and ready in fifteen minutes. Do hurry."

MasterGin leaned his head back, staring out the tinted armorglass into the subterranean transit tunnels as hoverlimo lifted, and shoot out of the dock with shocking speed.

Lisa looked too. Outside, disciplined rows of armored ghouls marched in tight, tactical formation in a huge cavern. A battalion?

"Are those for the Opening of the Mouth ceremony tomorrow?"

MasterGin turned back to her, offering a practiced, razor-thin smile. "High-profile security is mandatory, yes." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Forgive me, but no more questions for the moment. My mind is occupied, and I am exceptionally famished."

He really is almost charming when he isn't actively trying to murder someone.

Lisa grinned, thoroughly enjoying his irritation.

"As long as you attack that vat instead of my neck, we're good. It's blood wine, right? Some ultra-exclusive vampire vintage, am I right? MasterGin's gotta be stylish," she chuckled. "What I want to know is why you measure blood volume by body parts. What's the tea? Lisa’s gotta know."

He let out a low, musical laugh.

"Very well. Let's play a game. It is completely secure inside this transport, no surveillance cameras. But you only get three questions, and nothing more. I promise to answer truthfully. Choose wisely."

He held out his palm, expecting her halophone.

Give up her phone? Was he out of his freaking mind?

He gestured again, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Everything comes with a price, my dear."

She huffed, slapping the device hard into his palm. "I don't see you giving tours or expensive dresses to anyone else. Why me?"

"I like you." He placed the halophone on the velvet seat beside him, tapping it like a prized trinket. "You make me laugh."

"A bazillion-dollar dress because I make you laugh? Give me the real reason. You said you'd tell the truth."

MasterGin’s playful smile vanished. His posture shifted, becoming dead serious.

"You're a star. Or you would be if you had a face and body to match your charisma. I can help you with that." He flexed his long fingers like a plastic surgeon assessing a patient. "I have connections that could launch your career into global syndication overnight. You know it's true."

Lisa kept her face completely unreadable. "And? What's the catch?"

"And..." MasterGin leaned forward, his pale eyes catching the ambient cabin light. "I want you to serve as Master of Ceremonies for Jihoon's awakening tomorrow. I will spare no expense. Whatever production assets you require, you will have. We are en route to the Club Apophis now so you can scout the stage."

Lisa recoiled as if a snake had just bitten her. "What?"

"I am entirely serious. Think about the symmetry. I created Lathandro." He held up his hands, admiring his own fingers. "With these, I sculpted the masterpiece of Lathandro out of the rough, unpolished clay of Yoon Jihoon."

Lisa’s spine went rigid. She looked down at her hands. The shimmering blue film had completely absorbed into her skin. Her mind flashed back to the glowing blue cosmetic jar he had bragged about earlier, the compound he used to reshape his high-end clients.

"You were the one who made him a global sensation," MasterGin continued smoothly. "You discovered him. You moved millions in merchandise using his face and his name. You also broadcast his dramatic death live to the world. The hope of Jae Won University baseball spontaneously combusted live on TV. Afterward, you destroyed his legacy, peddling a brilliant narrative that he used illegal military grade biohacks to cheat his way through professional sports. Everyone bought it. I was thoroughly impressed by your narrative control. No one ever suspected the truth."

Lisa ground her molars together until her jaw throbbed. She hated that she had run those stories. She hated that he had blackmailed her into spinning those lies. That deep, burning rage was the exact reason she was sitting in this vehicle right now, searching for the single crack in his armor that would burn his empire to the ground.

"Tomorrow, you can resurrect this phoenix in the global media as the Chosen One rising from the ashes, witnessed by billions live on stream," MasterGin purred. "It is a spectacle only you can pull off, my dear. And if Jihoon wishes to retain you as his exclusive PR manager after he wakes, that will be his choice. Do we have an agreement?"

Lisa stared at him as if he had sprouted three snake heads.

"Consider this," MasterGin added, leaning closer. "Tomorrow, you could debut on the international stage with an exquisite new face, a sculpted body, hosting the most historic broadcast in human history: the birth of a god."

Lisa shot to her feet and smacked her head hard against the roof of the limo.

CRACK.

She collapsed into the leather seats in an undignified heap of ruffles, lace, and pain. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

A violent surge of nausea hit her throat.

"I'm gonna be sick..."

Before she could lean away, she vomited directly onto the front of the multi-million-dollar dress.

The wet splatter rang out in the quiet cabin, accompanied only by the soft hum of the anti-grav engines as they sped through the dark tunnels.

MasterGin didn't even flinch. He calmly pressed the intercom button. "Mirror, instruct the tailoring team to prepare a fourth ensemble."

“Shall I note a preference for stain-resistant fabric, Master?” the AI replied cheerfully.

Lisa wiped her mouth with the back of a red ruffle, her throat tight and burning. "And what happens if I say no?" she croaked.

MasterGin smiled, leaning back into his plush leather seat with absolute poise. "You won't say no. I've watched every archive stream recovered from your apartment. I know how your mind works. And I am genuinely looking forward to reviewing what you recorded on this trip as well." He picked up her halophone, casually twirling it between his long claws. "You noticed I personally restored and upgraded all your field gear. Did you never stop to ask yourself why?"

MasterGin held up three slender fingers, then slowly folded one down. “Consider yourself lucky. I’m lumping that exchange and barrage of clarifications under the umbrella of Question One. Two remain.”

Lisa stared at the floor of the limo, her chest heaving.

Shit.

She needed a strategy, and she needed it now.

Ask questions. Keep him talking. Find the flaw in his grand design.




On her, Lisa Liemawr:
Gown, Candelabra: Domus - Ravenmourne Dress, Ebody,  fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(1699L)
Corset: VoluptasVirtualis - FOLIA.Corset [mesh](Engine Room)(475L)
Tiara: VoluptasVirtualis - FOLIA Tiara [mesh](Engine Room)(150L)
Metal legs: Evil Baby - Valerie's Legs - Metals Pack [mesh](Engine Room)(499L)
Metal arms: Nefekalum - Graven - Gold/Gold // Tattoo [BOM](Engine Room)(199L)
Hair: CAMO - Nefera F-Locs [mesh](Engine Room)(699L)
Earrings: SIGMA - Escape earrings [mesh](Engine Room)(320L)
Chocker: Sublime - Willa Choker, Fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(500L)
Gloves: HEIKE - Disturbed Gloves (REBORN) [mesh]
Head, eyes, skin: LOGO - Dawn Desert Nomad [mesh]
Body: REBORN by eBODY v2.0 [mesh]

On him, MasterGin:
Outfit: One Days - [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Mask: Pendulum - Raviel [mesh](Engine Room)(1250L)
Heels: Arltos Afterlife - Enid, black [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(450L)
Hair: Ginko Hair - #200 Hair - Unrigged [mesh]
Cigarette holder: GRAAL SMOKING SNAKE [mesh](349L)
Head: LeLUTKA - CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh]

Setting:
Setting: Oblivis - The Grand Stone Gate Mossystone [mesh](Engine Room)(450L)
Wall candle holder: Blue Blood - Cradle Wall Candle [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(199L)


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











Thursday, October 15, 2026

Engine Room: Curse of the Biohacker (Escape from Club Apophis, 61)

(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE: Minjo’s Lab, Old Seoul, 5:00 PM.

Plague pushed open the heavy steel doors of Minjo’s workshop. The place was supposed to be the wholesome academic environment his parents were paying for, but right now it was a complete zoo. He braced himself for the usual sterile, hyper-organized hum of intellectual dominance. Instead, he walked straight into a full-scale domestic mutiny.

“Okay, what did you animals do while I was gone?” Plague muttered, dropping an overloaded duffle bag of provisions onto the nearest stainless-steel workbench.

Minjo’s automated maintenance bots had completely lost their minds. Two glowing Bug Lights darted through the rafters like caffeinated hornets, trailing ozone sparks and emitting rude digital squawks incessantly. Worse yet, the experimental Mechanical Daisy had snapped the lock on its terrarium. It uprooted its titanium stem and stomped across the floor tiles toward a pile of discarded snack wrappers.

As he passed the towering Chronal Resonance Viewer, he gave its colossal metal rings a cautious glance. It loomed over the center of the lab like a dormant titan, a stark reminder that his friends were still trapped inside the Forbidden Zone.

He cleared a corner of his desk, shoving aside a chaotic collage of research papers and receipts for a massive aquarium and bio-transport pod. On the wall beside his monitor hung a large, squeaky-clean whiteboard. Plague picked up a dry-erase marker and began to handwrite a To-Do List, complete with his own crude stick-figure illustrations:

1) Test Formula 1 & 2 (Drawing of two glowing blue bottles next to a twisting DNA helix)
Formula 1: MasterGin’s DNA Rewrite / Force Shift
Formula 2: Arrest Full-Body Metamorphosis

2) Cure Jihoon (Drawing of a sleeping stick figure with bat wings and sharp fangs)

3) Rescue Dr. Tanaka (Drawing of Plague in a lab coat, frantically pushing a sealed bio-pod on wheels)

4) Win Nobel Prize (Drawing of Plague high-fiving a giant jellyfish beneath the Nobel Prize crest)

Plague chuckled under his breath, capping the marker. The joke barely covered the nervous flutter in his chest.

He reached into his duffle and pulled out a hefty velvet-lined metal case brought back from Dr. Tanaka's underground lab. Ignoring the thick stack of dense research printouts and handwritten notes underneath, Plague bypassed the technical theory entirely and went straight for the prize. Impulsive? Absolutely.

He lifted out two gilded crystal bottles, each filled with liquid glowing a soft, bioluminescent blue.

The first bore a printed commercial label: GIN AESTHETICA™. Tanaka’s master formula for stopping DNA rewrite rejection, his life’s work repurposed into a weapon by MasterGin.

A nagging voice entered his mind. Minjo’s parting words echoed in his ears: “Jihoon first.”

“Sorry, Minjo. I have to know if it works.”

He pulled on a latex glove and unsealed the bottle. A cold, floral scent wafted up. He scooped a tiny dab of the glowing blue ointment onto his fingertip and approached the gothic freestanding mirror.

On his jawline sat an ugly weeping ulcer, a painful reminder of his failed back-alley CRISPR experiments. His attempt at Biohack Looksmaxing had turned into a living nightmare.

He clicked the timer on his stopwatch and smeared the glowing gel directly over the raw flesh.

A sharp, violent sting bit into his skin, like pouring concentrated lemon juice into an open wound. Plague hissed through his teeth, gripping the edges of the sink until his knuckles turned white.

He tracked the digital seconds ticking by. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty.

Gradually, the burning sensation faded into a soothing, cool numb. Plague looked into the mirror and let out a soft sigh. The inflammation had subsided. The angry red edges had faded, and the damaged skin was beginning to close.

“Holy hell,” he breathed, a wide grin breaking across his face. “Tanaka, you absolute genius.”

Visual proof. It actually worked.

The triumphant smirk grew as he reached for the second bottle. This one was hand-labeled in precise Japanese calligraphy, stamped at the bottom with the red crest of Dr. Hoshu Tanaka: Formula to arrest DNA Rewrite.

Plague unzipped his bio-containment suit and peeled it back from his shoulder, exposing the left side of his chest over his lung.

Beneath his collarbone, the skin was semi-translucent with an oily sheen. Worse, a cluster of fleshy, feathery external gills, a nightmare leftover from his failed attempt to steal the axolotl’s regenerative powers, sprouted directly from his ribs. The surrounding tissue was raw and swollen, locked in a brutal war as his immune system violently rejected the amphibian mutation.

He scooped a generous portion of the second formula and rubbed it directly over the inflamed, translucent tissue.

He clicked his stopwatch and waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Half an hour.

Nothing happened. The gills remained swollen, angry, and raw.

His smile collapsed into a scowl. “Come on. Work.”

Frustrated, he reached back into the velvet case and pulled out Tanaka’s handwritten research notes, skimming the pages until his eyes locked onto an underlined paragraph.

“The arrest formula is context-dependent. To halt an active rewrite, the serum must be custom-synthesized using two distinct genetic markers: a pure baseline DNA sample from the host, and a pure DNA sample of the foreign contaminant.”

Plague blinked, processing the logic.

He stood up, walked over to a small terrarium on the side shelf, and tapped the glass. Inside, a cute, smiling albino axolotl blinked back at him lazily and ruffled its feathery pink gills.

“Sorry, buddy,” Plague said, pulling a sterile cotton swab from his pocket. “Your tissue-regrowth abilities are no longer required.”

He gently swabbed the inside of the creature’s mouth, transferred the sample into his benchtop centrifuge, and added his own archived, unmodified blood baseline. His custom-trained Biohack AI took over, mapping and comparing the two samples. He fed Dr. Tanaka’s Formula 2 into the AI, then did his own voodoo with the data before transferring the resulting formulation to the synthesizer. Within thirty minutes, the machine produced a tiny droplet of customized serum.

Plague applied the new mixture to his chest. This time, the reaction was instant. The fiery inflammation subsided as the genetic rewrite ground to a halt.

The extra gill tissue didn't magically vanish. It didn't dry up and fall off his body. No, his shame was permanent. But at least he wouldn't mutate further.

“Well, folks, I could always have a career in long-distance swimming.”

His recovery would take more work. The serum only worked on the surface. To treat an entire body, he needed a vaccine. After all, he didn’t want to burp bubbles at his parents while explaining how he spent a chunk of their fortune accidentally biohacking himself into a human-sized axolotl.

He turned back to his whiteboard.

He picked up a red marker and drew a large circle around Item 2. Beneath “Cure Jihoon,” he added: "Acquire a pure DNA sample of whatever is taking over Jihoon’s body. Compare to archived Jihoon pure sample. Create a vaccine using Formula 2."

He stared at the words for a moment. One problem solved. One much bigger problem remained.

CRASH.

A violent screech of tearing metal and shattering glass cut through the lab. The Bug Lights dropped mid-squawk and clattered across the tiles. The Mechanical Daisy froze, a snack wrapper clamped in its petals.

Plague bolted from the whiteboard to the reinforced window.

The sky was a bruised red. Out on the avenue, two hovercars had collided mid-air. One slammed hard into the glass facade of a neighboring high-rise, throwing showers of sparks down into the street. Below them, traffic lights flickered wildly and went dark.

A second ago, Old Seoul had been glowing with its usual neon-drenched rhythm.

Block by block, street by street, the electric grid collapsed. High-voltage streetlights popped into darkness. Gigantic holographic billboards dissolved into static, and entire skyscrapers plunged into shadow as the power failure cascaded across the horizon.

A total blackout.

“Shit!” He spun around and sprinted back toward his desk.

Every monitor, computer, bioreactor, and terminal flatlined at once. The central server fans whined down into dead silence. Hours of sequence logs, live culture readouts, and unbacked-up synthesizer formulas vanished behind dark, reflective glass.

Plague stared at his dead primary terminal. A vein throbbed violently at his temple. 

“No. No, no, no!”

With a furious sweep of his arm, he sent a rack of empty glass vials off the counter. They shattered across the floor tiles in a cloud of glittering dust. He dropped to his knees in the wreckage, grabbing his hair.

Was the data salvageable? How long until backup power kicked in?

He stayed on the floor among the debris, eyes closed. 

Interrupting his breakdown, was a deep sinister vibration he felt in his teeth.

His eyes snapped open. He knew that hum.

In the center of the pitch-black workshop, the massive ring of the Chronal Resonance Viewer blazed to life. The machine had been completely dormant ever since they disconnected it from the entropy-powered Black Snakeskin Box.

Violet circuitry snapped awake along its ancient metallic frame, casting long, eerie shadows across the ceiling. His eyes grew wide.

He whipped out his halophone.

Dead. Just like the power grid.

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Forbidden Zone just engulfed my lab.”

Above Minjo’s desk hung an old paper map. His eyes traced a line from the Forbidden Zone, to MasterGin’s clinic in Gangnam, to the red dot of his lab in Old Seoul.

The Zone was the Zone. It wasn't supposed to
 move. No one who went inside ever came out, unless they were Monstrum. Or Jihoon. Or, apparently, Plague. But now the Zone was here.

He imagined all the people outside on the avenue, stumbling in the dark or staring at dead phones, maybe cursing the grid. None of them watching the sky for winged death.

He quickly bolted the doors, and closed the window shades. Hopefully, that will buy him time.

He swallowed, and turned his attention back to the immediate mystery.

The glowing violet rings of the Chronal Resonance Viewer were the only light in the room. The machine ran on the exact same energy as the Forbidden Zone.

Entropy.

But how?

He tracked a heavy-gauge power cable across the floor tiles, following it directly to the empty mounting dock where the Black Snakeskin Box used to sit.

The connection port crackled with raw, impossible energy. Small sparks of violet static danced across its copper teeth like feeding tendrils.

Hypothesis time. A stupid one, probably.

He had seen the Shadow Serpent twice. Once bursting out of the Black Snakeskin Box, once hovering over Jihoon at the Museum. And he had seen Jihoon’s cells. Half of them were fueled by something the Ai could only label as undefined.

Minjo’s words came back to him: “Foreign and unknown. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t biological.”

Hwan had said Jihoon was the Shadow Serpent’s master, and it would always return to him.

If the undefined half of Jihoon had a relative anywhere, surely it was the creature.

Plague pulled on a face mask and a pair of thick thermal gloves, grabbed a magnifying glass and a sterile swab from his kit, and knelt beside the spark-spitting port.

If the port held even microscopic dust from the Shadow Serpent, it would be worth the effort to study it.

He leaned in slowly, swab at the ready.

“Who’s a good little Entropy Electric Eel? Don’t be shy. Dr. Plague just wants a little sample.”



On him, Plague:
Glasses: Inktooth - Antique Optometrist Pince-Nez, realistic [mesh](Engine Room)(250L)
Top: GRAAL - COMSTOCK SHIRT/VEST, PANTS LEGACYA [mesh](Engine Room)(399L)
Armband, gloves, jacket: Starlit Endeavor - Vitala outfit + accessories [mesh](Engine Room)(2985L)
Bag: Starlit Endeavor - Vitala Bag, Bottles [mesh](Engine Room)(600L)
Book: Starlit Endeavor - Vitala Book [mesh](Engine Room)(600L)
Shoes: Deadwool Dandy shoes - black/silver wingtip [mesh]
Makeup: maledictus - Lacrimosa, red [BOM]
Hair: Dura - U122 -A: Men's [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Setting:
Animesh: Apika - Dr. Plague - Deco Rezz [animesh](Engine Room)(499L)
Coffee Machine: ERG - Coffee Machine [mesh](Engine Room)(330L)
Sculpture: What's Lost Spirits - WLS MECHANICAL DOLL [mesh](Engine Room)(400L)
Staff: Starlit Endeavor - Vitala Staff [mesh](Engine Room)(600L)
Mirror: Fetch - Nightveil Mirror - PBR Textures [mesh](Engine Room)(199L)
Lights: Static - Cobblebug Wall Lamps PBR Copper [mesh](Engine Room)(325L)
Flower: Blue Blood - Preserved Mirage, Terrarium, Blue Flowers [Animesh](Engine Room)(199L)
Cabinet: C&C - Reactive Glass Cabinet - Vintage [mesh](Engine Room)(249L)
Skeleton: Cica's - skeleton worm [Animesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Lantern: LORE - Anglerfish Lantern [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Display: Dirty Rat - Plague Doctor [mesh]
Desk, Chair: Eclectica Curiosities - Steampunk office desk, chair [mesh]
Desk clutter 1: Den of Inquiry - Mortar & Pestle [mesh]
Desk clutter 2: RnR - Lab Frame A, B, Suspicious Fluids [mesh]
Pet: Milk Motion - Axolotl pink - static [mesh]
Aquarium: JIAN - Longfin Tetra Aquarium [mesh]
Portal: RS-Syn - Time Twist [mesh]
Skybox: C&C - The Widow's Workshop [mesh]

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





Thursday, July 23, 2026

Midnight Order: The Good Boy (Escape from Club Apophis, 50)


(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE:  Ten days ago.

The world tasted like wet earth and burnt plastic. 


Happy opened his eyes, blinking away the muddy water that clung to his snout. Everything hurt. His front paw throbbed with a sharp, biting ache. The air smelled wrong. Burning rubber. Leaking oil. The sky above him was a dark, bruising shade of purple, illuminated by the distant, sickly green neon glow of the Forbidden Zone. 


He let out a low, pathetic whimper, his tail twitching against the cold mud of the ditch. Every instinct in his body had screamed No. 


Everything smelled wrong. Rain. Blood. 


Lisa. Lisa everywhere. Lisa nowhere. 


Where was Lisa? 


Happy crawled out of the ditch, dragging his injured leg behind him. The wreckage of the car sat a few yards away, a mangled heap of black steel illuminated by a flickering streetlamp. Smoke drifted upward. Hot metal hissed in the drizzle. 


He limped closer to the debris, his nose pressed to the damp soil. 


Memory returned in jagged fragments. 


The Bad Place. The hum hurt his ears. He refused to go. Lisa locked him in the car. Kyra placed beside him. Oil. Blood. Her scent different, sweet and rotten. The angry driver took the corners too fast. Happy bit him for that. Blinding lights. Tearing metal. Sky and ground switching places. 


Then nothing. Nothing for a long time. 


Pain. 


He got back up. 


He sniffed the air desperately, catching traces of Lisa, the angry man and Kyra, but they were gone. The area was empty, save for the distant wail of sirens echoing through the neon-lit streets. 


Beside the shattered window lay a small, sleek black object. Happy recognized it instantly. It was one of the glass bricks Lisa always carried, its surface covered in her greasy fingerprints and the comforting, sharp scent of her hairspray. She talked to it constantly. Sometimes she even fell asleep with it resting against her chest. 


Desperate for any sign of her, Happy nudged the device with his wet nose. He bopped it again, harder this time, trying to wake it up. 


The glassy face flared to life, casting a bright blue glow across his muddy snout. A voice tore through the quiet night, loud and frantic. 


"Live from the edge of the Forbidden Zone!" 


Happy’s ears perked up instantly. His tail gave a weak, hopeful thump against the ground. It was Lisa! He barked. 


"It’s not radioactive! There are no biohazards! That’s right, folks, it’s all a government lie! What’s really inside the Zone is monsters!" 


He didn’t understand her words, but he knew the sound of fear. 


The message ended. 


Silence. 


He whined, nudging the device again, expecting her to reach out and pat his head. 


"...Live from the edge..." 


Her voice returned, but where was Lisa? Her voice kept repeating, her scream tearing through the tiny speaker over and over again on a continuous, desperate loop. 


He curled his bulky body around the glowing brick, burying his nose against the warm glass, letting her recorded words wash over him while he whined. 


"Oh my goodness! What happened here?" 


Happy bolted upright, a sharp growl catching in his throat. 


A woman hurried toward him from the brightly lit building across the street that smelled like the vet's but bigger. She wore a heavy blue coat. Her face looked pale and drawn, with deep shadows under her eyes. 


As she drew closer, Happy’s growl died down, replaced by a confused tilt of his head. 


She smelled like medicine and worry. She also smelled like ...Sweet Death. Same as Kyra. 


The woman rushed over, her eyes darting from the crushed vehicle to Happy’s bleeding shoulder. "Oh, you poor thing. Was your owner in this crash? Did they leave you behind?” 


She knelt in the damp grass, completely ignoring the mud staining her knees, and reached out with gentle hands. “Of course it was an accident. No one would leave a Bio Construct like you behind.” 


To Happy, she felt like a sudden, warm light in the dark. He could feel the genuine kindness radiating off her, an absolute absence of malice. He whimpered softly, letting his heavy head sink into her arms as she carefully lifted him off the ground. 


"There, there. Don’t you worry, puppy," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly. “Helga will get you help. There's a hospital across the street, but you need a vet.”


Happy snuggled deeper into her coat, his nose pressed against the curve of her neck. He licked her chin softly. He was still frightened, but she was a nice lady.


Helga adjusted her grip on him, her eyes falling to the glowing halophone in the grass. Lisa’s panicked face flickered in the blue light, the warning about the government pact and the monsters repeating over and over. 


"Oh! I know that voice. It's that funny girl from the Hexa Herald."


Happy tensed as her hand reached toward the glowing brick. That's Lisa. Don't take Lisa. 


“Is that your owner, puppy?” Helga scooped up the device while keeping Happy tucked against her chest. 


He calmed. Ok. Lisa comes too. 


Lisa’s voice burst from the device, "It’s full of monsters!" 


Helga froze, her breath catching in her throat. She looked up toward the dark silhouette of the Forbidden Zone looming in the distance. She touched her lower lip with two trembling fingers. 


Helga shifted Happy in her arms and looked down at the screen one last time. Her thumb hovered over the glow. Lisa kept shouting. She swallowed hard, her thumb sliding to Deep Net, then pressing Share. 


Her eyes swept the empty, shadow-drenched street. “It’s not safe here, puppy. Let’s get you out of sight right now.” 


Happy tucked his nose beneath Helga's chin as she turned and hurried into the dark. His new friend was afraid. The Sweet Death clung to her. Like Kyra. And Lisa wasn't here. Until he found her again... Happy would protect this one.



Woop Woop! Midnight Order is back. Head over and load up on Gothtastic awesomeness and gifts. Helga returns for the finale of Escape from Club Apophis and she brought a cute little friend. She's wearing the VOX Umrae coat and corset, 182 hair by ZAO, Vira shoes by Evil Baby, hypnotic Moka eyes by Haru, and Blair skin by 41m. She's wearing Romance's Blue Heart necklace by AvaWay. In the setting, are the lovely blue Campanula With Planters, and returning awesome setting Crimson Watch Backdrop by Zeroichi. From Aardvark is the returning Wyrmlings, as Happy the Dino Dog.



On her, Helga:
Coat: VOZ - Umbrae Coat - LaraX [mesh](Midnight Order)(275L)
Corset: VOZ - Umbrae Corset - LaraX [mesh](Midnight Order)(180L)
Hair: ZAO - 182 Hair [mesh](Midnight Order)(432L)
Shoes: Evil Baby - Vira's Shoes - LaraX[mesh](Midnight Order)(350L)
Eyes: Haru - Moka eyes A1[BOM](Midnight Order)(249L)
Skin: 41m - Skin Blair, Icy [BOM](Midnight Order)(799L)
Necklace: AvaWay - KATE HEART Necklace MAITREYA v2 [mesh]
Leggings: alaskametro<3 = "Lyra" leggings - 05 silver holo, tinted [BOM]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA lel EvoX Vela [mesh](3990L)
Body: Maitreya Lara X [mesh](2750L)
Pose: ZZANG - 100% Sugar 001

Setting:
Plants: Blue Blood - Campanula With Planter - Blue (Midnight Order)
Pet: Aardvark - Wyrmlings Animesh - Earth Claw [animesh](449L)
Set: ZEROICHI - Crimson Watch Backdrop [mesh]

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