Showing posts with label Camp Syndicate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Camp Syndicate. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 28, 2026

Camp Syndicate: The Monster Lady, 1 (Escape from Club Apophis, 63)

(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE: Neu Seoul, 5pm

Helga trudged along the sidewalk, her arms aching as heavy grocery bags cut into her fingers. Beside her, Happy the Dino Dog darted between her legs, his bio-construct claws clicking sharply against the pavement.

"Watch where you're going, you little menace," she scolded him playfully, juggling the plastic handles.

Ten days ago, she’d found Happy beside the wreck of Lisa Liemawr’s car, guarding the missing Hexa Herald reporter’s halophone. Lisa’s last broadcast had been looping on its screen, insisting the Forbidden Zone wasn’t radioactive at all, that it was full of monsters. Helga had only meant to do the right thing. She’d pressed Share.

Instead, she'd turned her life into a waking nightmare.

Happy's tail wagged furiously, his scaled snout lifting to sniff the evening air.

Her halophone chimed. Helga groaned, trying to balance two overstuffed grocery bags on one knee while fishing the device out of her coat pocket. Her inbox had exploded with toxic stupidity. Cruel memes. Insults. Badly photoshopped creatures holding political signs featuring her face, as though she were their preferred candidate for president.

She had blocked accounts. Reported them. Ignored them. Nothing worked.

Then a message from Mira appeared.

Mira, founder of the Romaniacs, had arranged that surprise meeting with DJ Romance, the celebrity impersonator. She'd been strangely quiet ever since.

GET OUT OF THE CITY. NOW.

Her thumb hovered over Delete.

A prank. It had to be a prank. But it wasn't like sweet Mira to make fun of her.

Happy stopped weaving around her ankles. His leathery ears twitched. He turned toward the end of the block, letting out a low, vibrating growl.

An icy breeze made her shiver and she tightened her coat. "Come on, Happy," she whispered, quickening her pace.

When they reached her apartment building, Helga's stomach turned. Splashed across her front door in wet red paint were the words MONSTER LOVER.

Happy shoved against her leg, growling at the door.

For the past ten days, he'd appointed himself her personal bodyguard. He slept outside her bedroom and followed her everywhere, even to the bathroom. She'd never had the heart to tell him his vigilance was unnecessary. She wasn't Lisa Liemawr, forever stirring up trouble and making enemies of the rich and powerful. Helga had always lived a quiet life, far from that kind of danger.

Until now.

For a moment, she couldn't move. Happy pressed close, his growl rumbling through her leg. For the first time, she was grateful for his overprotectiveness.

She dropped the grocery bags onto the grass and fumbled for the paper towels. The thick, wet paint smeared beneath her frantic scrubbing.

Lisa Liemawr had gone missing trying to expose the truth about the Forbidden Zone. Helga had only shared the broadcast. She hadn't done anything to deserve this.

Behind her, Happy began to bark again and again.

Her halophone vibrated. Ringing. Ringing.

She snatched it up, ready to turn it off, but stopped dead.

Glowing across the screen was Caller ID: DJ ROMANCE.

She stared at his perfect idol picture and touched her lips, which had never quite stopped tingling since his kiss.

How did he have her number? Mira must have given it to him.

Her thumb hovered over the answer icon. If she didn't answer, she'd spend the rest of the night wondering whether it was really him.

She accepted the call. “Um… hello?”

"Helga."

His voice. That deep gravitas. Her heart skipped a beat. It really was him.

"DJ Romance?" she whispered. "Are you... are you mocking me too?"

The screen flickered wildly with static. Romance's panicked voice crackled through the speaker.

"Helga, listen to me. Please. Get out of the city. Go now!"

She swallowed hard. "You sound just like Mira."

Static swallowed Romance's reply. "If you can't..." His voice broke into a glitching distortion.

Then silence.

Helga's battery icon plunged to zero.

The screen went black.

"Hello? Romance?"

She tapped the screen, then held down the power button. Nothing.

A deep pulse reverberated through her jaw. She felt it in her teeth, a low-frequency hum rising through the pavement beneath her feet.

Helga looked around, trying to locate the sound. Several blocks away, a billboard flickered. Its brilliant advertisements stuttered through bands of static before the entire display went dark. Then, the streetlamps died in a long, dark cascade toward her.

Happy stopped in his tracks. His scaled head snapped upward.

Helga followed his gaze, her breath hitching.

The blood-red sky stretched outward like an open wound over Neu Seoul.

A cold wind swept through her hair.

The smell hit her a moment later. Damp earth. Stagnant water. And beneath it all, something sweet and rotten.

Happy's collar frills sprang fully open. He planted his feet and faced the street, snarling so fiercely that the sound rattled in his chest.

Helga gasped. She fumbled for her door key fob, aiming it at the door. Click. Click. Click.

Nothing.

The power LEDs on both the key fob and the door lock had gone dark.

She slammed her fists against the door. "Damn it!"

Behind her, Happy erupted into furious barking. He didn't look at the building, but at the street, his teeth bared, scales bristling along his tail.

She spun around. Whatever had frightened him was out there, somewhere beyond the darkening street. She couldn't see anything, but the hum was growing louder.

She ran to the neighboring building and beat on the door.

"Help! Please, let me in! Something's wrong out here!"

For a moment, there was only the sound of her own breathing and Happy's desperate barking.

Then she heard a soft movement on the other side of the door.

Someone was home.

"Please!" she cried, pounding again.

Whoever it was, they were as scared as she was. She couldn’t even blame them.

A heavy, wet dragging sound echoed through the unnatural quiet of the blacked-out street.

Helga backed against the front door, petrified. “Oh, God...”

Out of the shadows shambled a horrifying figure in a torn, blood-stained dress. Its head lolled at a nauseating angle, a filth-caked burlap sack tied tightly over it. Dark fluid seeped through the fabric. No signs of breathing. Its joints clicked like dry twigs with every jerky step.

Happy charged.

"Happy, NO!"

The Dino Dog launched himself at the creature, claws scraping against the pavement. The thing lurched forward with a sudden, sickening burst of speed, its malformed arms reaching for him.

Helga couldn't see what happened next. She heard the crash of bodies, the scrape of claws, and a horrible series of wet impacts in the darkness.

"HAPPY!"

Something struck the pavement with a heavy thud.

Helga's stomach lurched. She stumbled toward the sounds, one hand reaching blindly into the darkness.

A furious bark answered her. Angry. Defiant.

Thank God. 

She barely had time to feel relief before another sound punched the air inward.

A violent WHUMP slammed through the street. Windows rattled in their frames. Loose paper towels and spilled groceries blew across the pavement as vibrant pink smoke erupted between Helga and the creature.

A second monster had appeared.

The smoke churned, swallowing the darkness around it. A vast silhouette rose through the pink haze, giant black bat wings unfurling against the blood-red sky, violet light pulsing through the membranes. Beneath a gat hat, magenta hair framed a face crowned with horns thrusting straight forward.

A gleaming scythe caught what little light remained.

Helga couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

The demon straightened, wings spread wide, its clawed hands tightening around the weapon.

It lunged toward the creature. A sharp, sickening whoosh cut through the darkness, followed by two heavy thumps against the pavement.

For a heartbeat, everything went still. A thin, luminous stream rose from the darkness, twisting up from the fallen body toward its destroyer. The demon inhaled, almost imperceptibly. The blue light vanished within its fanged jaws.

Helga touched her lips. That glow. She suddenly felt afraid. Very afraid

Happy's head snapped toward Helga. He sniffed, then turned toward the demon, lips curling back from his teeth as darkness swallowed them once more.

A scream erupted from the darkness.

It was impossibly loud, impossibly high, a glass-shattering screech that climbed and wavered in a sustained vibrato. The note went on without a single breath, a virtuoso performance of pure, unfiltered agony that seemed to force everyone within earshot to share its pain.

Helga clapped her hands over her ears.

Then something about the voice began to sound familiar.

The vibrato. The effortless control. That impossible high note.

Since childhood, she had adored that voice, playing all his songs over and over until she knew them by heart.

Helga slowly lowered her hands. She didn't need to see the demon to know.

No impersonator could ever hit a note like that.

“WHY ARE YOU BITING ME, YOU STUPID MUTT?” Romance howled. “LET GO! I'M TRYING TO PROTECT HER TOO!”





Happy Halloween everyone! For you Halloween needs, hop over to Camp Syndicate to see all the delightfully spooky things. Don't miss gifts, cool sim ambience, and the live DJ parties too!



On Him, DJ Romance:
Teeth, mouth, tongue: Seydr - Cryptid Maw [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(449L)
Lips: Misteria - Smoke [HD Applier](Camp Syndicate)(250L)
Straps: YUEBIN - BOUND Body Straps - [Legacy Athl] - black [mesh](350L)
Top: YUEBIN - RAZE Top - [Legacy (m)+Athl] Fatpack [mesh](1290L)
Pants: YUEBIN - Rift Pants - [Legacy (m)+Athl] Fatpack [mesh](1290L)
Eye, jaw: Cubic Cherry - Terror Jawbone, EYE  FATPACK [mesh]
Horns: Hollow - Nyx Horns [mesh]
Tail: Hollow - Nyx Tail [Bento] [mesh]
Weapon: ORPHIC - Kurohana Scythe - Shoulder L [mesh]
Hair: Raven Bell - Azriel Braids [mesh]
Boots: CULT - Darkness - Legacy M [mesh]
Hair: Dura - U129 -LIGHT -Men [mesh]
Hair: Dura - U135-Light(rigged)-Male [mesh]
Necklace: UKIYO - lisa necklace [unrigged + resizer] [mesh]
Heart: RAWR - Diamond Heart Septum [mesh]
Wings: Aii - Nefarious Wings M Bento (b.o.m.1) [mesh]
Claws, rings: NI.JU - Acantha Rings/Nails Set - legacy m [mesh](250L)
Hat: Dope+Mercy - Saja Gat, Sheer [mesh](Gift)
Earring: RavenBell - Starlit Earrings [Moonlit] [mesh](350L)
Tattoos: HISS - PATTERNS FACE ROMANCE [BOM](250L)
Head: LeLUTKA - KANE [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
Pose: DevinVaughn - created in Firestorm

Setting:
Skyline: Strange Merchant - Light City 1 [mesh]
Seoul Tower: Korea City

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




Saturday, November 8, 2025

Camp Syndicate: The Parasitic Barrier (Escape from Club Apophis, 25)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: ...10 MINUTES EARLIER

The forest at the edge of the Forbidden Zone wasn’t quiet; it was rejected. No insects chirped. No wind stirred the pines. Only the cold, high-voltage hum of hungry silence remained.

Echo crouched in the dirt, breath misting. Her purple-striped sleeves brushed a carpet of dead needles. Behind her, the clearing glowed feverish green under the team’s work lights—drones, signal poles, and weapon packs scattered around the steel crate that held the Black Snakeskin Box. They looked less like students and more like a cult preparing to storm hell.

Ghost didn’t speak; he just acted.

“Comms test, G-3,” he signed with his Halo-gloves, hefting an insulated pole topped with a transmitter. He eased it forward until it breached the shimmering boundary of the Forbidden Zone.

The transmitter’s green light died the instant it crossed the perimeter.

Plague gave a low whistle. “Physics just quit. Another billion credits gone. Stellar start.”

Echo’s jaw tightened. She despised failure. Order bending into nonsense set her on edge.

She brushed past Ghost, pulling items from her pack.

“Experiment E-1.” She tossed a high-powered flashlight. It died mid-air. Then her phone—its screen went black before it hit the ground.

Last, she produced a small pink plastic ’80s Swatch, wound it, and tossed it into the Zone like a sacrifice.

It landed among the dead leaves, still ticking. Smug old tech. Alive.

“It’s selective,” Echo murmured. “Not an EMP, not a jammer. It’s eating everything with a current.”

Plague snorted, gesturing to the pile of dead gear. “Great. And we brought a picnic.”

“No,” Minjo corrected. Her eyes shifted from her dead console to the steel crate. “It eats human power.”
The glint in her gaze sharpened as she focused on the Black Snakeskin Box. “So, let’s feed it something else.”

She unlatched the crate. Inside, the sinister box pulsed with a faint, oily light. This wasn't tech, at least nothing Minjo could understand. It was a core of impossible energy, a spark that could power quantum entanglement from a container the size of a heart.

“I’ve failed to interface with it,” she admitted, rare defeat roughening her tone. “It has no code. It... resists analysis.”

Echo stared at the exposed core. It seemed to throb in time with their movements.

“Wait,” she whispered. “I think it’s been watching us. Laughing each time we fail.”

“A trolling multidimensional power source. Perfect.” Plague flipped a bird at the core, which flashed in response.

Minjo and Echo exchanged a glance.

“Alright,” Minjo said, slipping from analysis to command. “Echo, you’re the empath. Try luring it into the containment unit.”

Echo swallowed. The task felt right—like it had chosen her. The Core was less a device than a feral animal.

She pulled her retro datapad from her pack—a lavender relic with a green phosphor screen. Laying a palm on the Box, she ignored the feel of cold, scaled skin and linked the pad.

The screen flared—not with static, but with alien glyphs that writhed like serpents under glass. The Box was speaking: a language of pure, hungry curiosity.

Then the glyphs resolved. Two lines appeared on either side of the screen, and a single pixel bounced between them.

A small smile touched Echo's lips. “You guys aren’t going to believe this. I think it’s trying to play PONG.”

A ball of light bounced off one edge of the screen and headed for her side. She returned it, and the glyphs blinked in what looked like a smile.

“We can play, but first we need to get you into your new home. Easy now,” she murmured, guiding the datapad. The Core, trusting her now, followed the pad’s pull like a charmed snake. It levitated, humming, and slid into the brass-and-crystal housing Minjo had built.

“I have it,” Echo breathed, a surge of triumph cutting through the dread. “It’s contained. The unit is sealed.”

The moment the seal clicked shut, the serpentine glyphs swirled and bounced the digital ball to her again. She laughed in delight.

Then suddenly, the ball froze mid-play. The glyphs scattered, racing in panic, then coiled into tight, defensive knots, -- as if bracing for an unseen strike.

The air changed, as if the world itself were holding its breath.

Echo felt it before she saw it: the sense of being watched. The scent of rust and something sickeningly sweet, like burnt sugar.

A new awareness crawled up her spine, different from the Zone’s vague hunger. This wasn’t a diffuse threat. This was focused, predatory attention.

Reflected in the dark glass of her datapad, a new reflection joined her own.

It was pale. It was smiling.

Her breath caught.

She looked up, -- just as the Ice Cream Man brought the hammer down.

He didn’t strike her.

The heavy, worn hammer crushed the containment unit. The Core fractured.

It didn’t explode. It unleashed.

A giant shadow-serpent, a thing of pure, lightless rage, tore itself free from the broken housing. It shrieked, a psychic howl that rattled Echo’s teeth. A tornado of darkness ripped through the clearing as hundreds of smaller shadows were sucked from the trees, swirling around the serpent as it grew, raging in a vortex of dust, leaves, and smoke.

Then, as fast as it had appeared, the serpent shot past them, a black comet streaking deep into the Forbidden Zone.

Silence fell.

Ghost had already moved, placing himself between the students and the intruder, hand on his sidearm.

The Ice Cream Man didn’t move. He simply pointed his hammer in the direction the serpent had gone. His voice was muffled and hollow behind the porcelain mask.

“It returns to its master,” he said. “Your cursed friend, Yoon Jihoon, is that direction.”

The words hit them like a physical blow.

“What?” Minjo whispered, her scientific certainty shattering. “Who… who are you?”

The Ice Cream Man lifted his free hand to his face. With a soft click, he unhooked the mask and let it fall.

He wasn’t human. His face was sharp and pale, a smile that was too wide, with teeth that looked like they could crack bone, and his eyes burned with a feral amber light.

“I am Hwan, Guardian of the Barrier,” he said, voice now clear and cold, like gravel and frost. “And you’re not going anywhere, not without a real guide.”





On Her, Echo:
Top, shorts, leg warmers, shoes: Web Dew - Nicole set, LaraX [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(3500L)
Hair: Sintiklia - Lillith head 1 Fitted, colors ombres [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(350L)
Thigh belt: PSYCHO:Byts - Final Thigh Belts [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(450L)
Eyes: Mana - Plague Eye [BOM, Applier](Camp Syndicate)(300L)
Glasses: VORTECH - Teachers Specs PBR V1.1 [mesh](249L)
Headphone: L&B - Female Swear Gift Headphones [mesh]
Datapad: kosmii & mizu - Industrial DataPad [mesh]
Pins: LindenLabs LDPW - Paleoquest Badges - Dino love // small [mesh]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)
Body: Maitreya Mesh Body Lara [mesh](2750L)

Setting:
Monster: AxisMundi - StarGorgon [animesh](Camp Syndicate)(750L)
Skull Plant: Blue Blood - Ficus Mori - Cluster - Vivid Green [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(199L)
Contiment Unit: VORTECH - Alien Containment Units [mesh](349L)
Datapad: StudioOne - Datapad [mesh]
Ground: LOVE - EVERCHANGE PATHWAY [mesh]
Trees: Landscaping by Felix1 - Mesh Pine Season [mesh]
Suitcase: LINKRAVE Wormhole Suitcase - Aged Black [mesh] (685L)

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



Thursday, November 6, 2025

Camp Syndicate: The Ice Cream Man (Escape from Club Apophis, 24)


(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Jingle. Jingle. Jingle.

The sound wandered through the dark forest like a lost child,  an ice-cream cart’s bells ringing a melody of fossilized joy.

He let it play. Even monsters could be nostalgic; childhood memories were the last to die.

The porcelain mask pressed cool against his face, its smile painted on. Beneath it, his breath smelled of wet earth, rust and sugar.

He pushed the cart through a carpet of needles and broken glass, the wheels whispering over bones of old roads and people.

He stopped to wipe a dark stain from his crisp white jacket,  an old spill that would never come out. A reminder of the last mess he’d cleaned.

He listened. No wind. No insects. The forest here had forgotten how to live. Only the fading echo of tiny bells.

Then a click.
A whisper not his own.

Through the twin holes of the mask, he saw them: four intruders, half-hidden by ferns and moonlight, crouched near the shimmer of the Forbidden Zone’s boundary.

Children.

Their lights blinked; their voices were too loud, their hearts too bright. Fumbling with toys. Breaking the silence. They didn’t see the slithering shadows moving in the trees.

He tilted his head, listening.

The air vibrated with a sound he couldn’t hear but felt in his teeth.

One of them, the girl with violet stripes on her sleeves, was kneeling beside a box. Not a toy. A thing armored in scales so black it swallowed the moonlight. Even from here, he could feel it humming in his skull, a low-frequency scream, the psychic howl of something that did not belong in this world.

He flinched. They didn’t know what they’d touched. They didn’t know the rules.

He parked the cart. The jingle stuttered, then died with a final, off-key plink. He lifted the lid. The cheerful logo inside peeling and slashed with dried blood. His arsenal waited in neat rows: Raspberry. Chocolate. Strawberry Swirl.

His hand hesitated. Then: Vanilla.

The hammer was heavy, worn, reliable. Vanilla never let him down.

He moved through the trees without a sound, the damp trunks closing around him like a whisper. 

Every step erased a sound. The crickets stopped. The wind forgot itself.

The intruders were right ahead, still arguing.
The shimmer pulsed against their faces, painting them ghost-pale.
They made the bad box glow. They made it talk.

He watched with amber eyes as the girl’s hands trembled over the bad box. He could smell her fear.

Closer now.

Close enough she could see the reflection of his porcelain smile in dark glass of her device.

She looked up, sensing it. Her breath caught.

He raised the hammer. The jingle echoed once in his mind like a heartbeat.

And he brought it down.



This post was inspired by the outfit and theme of Camp Syndicate, the Slasher Movie genre.



On Him, the Ice Cream Man:
Outfit, mask, Hat: SOMNIUM - Mr. Sundae Set Bloody Legacy M/A [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(2250L)
Weapon: Krova - CLAW Hammer [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(350L)
Hands: Aii - Demonic Touch, bom/fingers, Legacy M [mesh]
Tattoo: HISS - PATTERNS BODY 2 - FADING TINT [BOM]
Shoes: 
L&B - LEGACYfit* Swear Old School Low Tops - Noir [mesh]
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:
Lantern: Oblivis - The Last Light STEEL [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(285L)
Gun: FOE x Nidhogg - Carbine Ax [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(499L)
Body parts: Whats Lost Spirits - Walk it off Body parts Pack [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(600L)
Hatchet, Hammer: Arts&Gear - *AG *CampingTools [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(300L)
Axe, Baseball bat, Boat oar: Puddles - Camp Weapons  [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(200L)
Knife, Blood: Evil Baby - Killer's Tattoo [BOM](Camp Syndicate)(350L)
Cart: BONDI - Ice Cream Small Cart, 12 Pink-Silver COMMON [mesh]

Location:

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




Wednesday, October 15, 2025

Engine Room, Androgyny Event, Camp Syndicate: Plague (Escape from Club Apophis, 22)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE:  “So they’re vampires,” Plague said flatly, breaking the silence before anyone could romanticize it. “Ancient, ridiculously dramatic vampires who decided to cosplay as mob bosses. Great story pitch. It’s like 'The Godfather' meets 'Interview with the Vampire.' Coppola would weep. Can we get back to the part where we save our friend?”

The hologram of the speakeasy collapsed in a shower of static, leaving behind the coppery whiff of spilled blood and the phantom scent of gunsmoke in the air. The workshop fell silent again, the gentle ticking of Minjo’s brass contraptions marking time while everyone ignored him.

Ghost’s hands were a blur, cross-referencing Prohibition-era mob hierarchies with everything he could scrape from the net about Monstrum. Minjo, her back to everyone, was already sketching a rescue plan on a nearby whiteboard. Echo sat cross-legged on the floor beside the Black Snakeskin Box, a tangle of wires and circuit boards spread around her as she coaxed its strange power core to life.

Plague stretched, cracked his neck, and muttered, "Okay, I'll just be over here in my corner. Quietly creating a miracle cure for a biological horror, like I’m Alexander Fleming. No biggie. Don't mind me."

No one did.

He snatched the vial of claws, and the tube containing strands of Jihoon’s old hair from the workbench. “I’m starting the analysis. Yell if the time machine spits out Al Capone’s ghost.”

His corner of the workshop looked like a cybernetic parasite grafted onto an antique heart: chrome instruments threaded through brass skeletons, his bioreactors blinking among Minjo’s clockwork arms. His parents paid her obscene rent for the privilege, -- hoping her discipline might rub off on their prodigal heir. They saw Minjo as a future leader, a sound investment. Plague just saw her as the only person unimpressed by how big his inheritance would be.

He laid out the samples. The first: a few black strands from the paper crane, Jihoon before Lathandro. The control. The second: an obsidian claw clipped from a bandaged hand in the hospital, the mutation. He whistled softly. “From origami to armageddon. Let’s see what you’re made of, buddy.”

A flicker of memory cut the grin short. Guilt churned in his stomach. He remembered leaning against the lockers, voice dripping with practiced disdain as the new, beautiful Jihoon walked by. "Stupid femboy," he’d said, too loud, too easy. "Bet he hacked his DNA."

The words tasted like poison now, because they were a lie meant to hide a truth. The real criminal biohacker of Jae Won University was him. He was the one obsessed with gene-hacking. For months he’d been running back-alley CRISPR protocols on himself, trying to code sharper cheekbones, a clearer complexion, anything for an edge in the cutthroat world of biotech grants. But his body had fought back, rejecting it all: rashes, migraines, a week shaking with fever. He had failed. He built a containment suit to keep the evidence and the shame sealed away.

So when Jihoon emerged from Club Apophis remade, and radiant, Plague’s envy had been swift and vicious. He’d projected his own failure onto Jihoon, painting him as a cheater. He’d pushed his friend away right when Jihoon needed him most, and that path ended at the stadium with Jihoon screaming, engulfed in fire.

This was penance. 

He would find a cure. A cure for Jihoon first, but maybe a cure for himself, too. He’d save his friend, fix his own flawed biohack, and be hailed as the man who finally conquered DNA-rewrite rejection. He allowed the daydream to flicker, his speech accepting the Nobel Prize as cameras flashed. He grinned at the thought.

“Science first. Glory later,” he told the sequencer. “You and me, let’s make history."

The sequencer hummed to life, running a full genomic sequence. The results for the control sample were clean. Unremarkable. Perfectly boringly human. He saved the file, fed a sliver of the obsidian claw into the machine, and waited. Then repeated the process.

Hours bled into a blur. The distant chatter about safe zones and infiltration routes faded into white noise. By the time the first hints of dawn stained the workshop’s high windows, he was staring at the screen, rubbing his eyes, his mind refusing to process what the data said.

Finally, he pushed back from his station, his chair groaning in the quiet. “Uh, guys?”

His voice was strained. Minjo turned from the whiteboard, her marker frozen mid-sentence.

“I’ve got the results,” Plague said, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no difference.”

“What do you mean, no difference?” Minjo demanded, marching over.

“I mean before and after. Identical. No viral markers, no synthetic code, no biohack signature. Either the universe is pranking me, or Jihoon’s DNA is the same old boring model.” He held up a finger. “And before you say contamination, I ran it six times.”

Minjo crossed her arms. “That’s illogical. We saw the claws. Your process is flawed. Do it again.”

“Six times, Minjo. Seven if you count the one where I forgot to breathe.” He sighed, dramatic. “My methodology is sound. The equipment is calibrated perfectly. The data is the data. Maybe you should accept that instead of assuming I’m an idiot!”

“I’m not calling you an idiot! I’m saying the result is impossible. There must be an error in the process.”

Before the argument could catch fire, a soft chime interrupted. Ghost lifted his gloved hands, holographic text drifting in a calm blue light above them. A simple question floated in the air: "Did you test the mitochondrial DNA?"

Plague froze.

Mitochondrial DNA, the power source of every living cell. He hadn’t even considered it.

He shot Ghost a grudging look. “Oh sure, Hologram Hands gets the win." He shook his head and muttered, "Sheeze, why is he always like that?"

He turned back to his console, frustration replaced by focus. An hour later, as the new analysis populated the screen, his jaw went slack. Half of Jihoon’s cells looked normal, powered by the same messy mitochondria as everyone else’s. The rest were something else entirely. His scanners couldn’t classify the energy source; the instruments simply read it as undefined.

The data made his blood run cold. “What the hell are you, Jihoon?”

The others gathered around as he stumbled back, his heart hammering against the metal ribs of his suit.

“What? What is it?” Minjo asked, her voice sharp with alarm.

“I found something alright. This isn't a bio-hack,” Plague breathed, his voice trembling with awe and terror. He pointed a shaking finger at the cellular map. “Jihoon isn’t being rewritten or infected. He’s a chimera. Half human… half something that doesn’t match any known terrestrial bio-signature. Two systems running in one body, and it looks like one of them wants the stage all to itself.”

A heavy silence settled over the workshop, the machines ticking like distant clocks.

Echo’s voice, quiet but certain, broke it. “Then we’d better hurry.”

Plague looked back at the screen, the dueling biological signals flickering like rival heartbeats. His voice came out soft, almost a joke. “Well,” he said, “guess we finally proved 'Meteor Strike' really is out of this world.”

No one laughed. 

The glow from the data deepened, and for a breath, it felt as though the thing inside Jihoon was staring back.



Halloween Season is upon us. But as you know, dear readers, Halloween is everyday on BishieStyleSL. lol.  I was so lucky to have items 
from three events perfectly suited for our handsome but flawed boy Plague.   ...From the brand new event Camp Syndicate, (which inspired by cabin-in-the-woods slasher horror movies), is the coolest icky scar wound material effect I have ever seen in SL, -- Decay by Cubic Cherry. It's a BOM tattoo layer with 3 layers of bom plus materials effect for EVO X mesh heads. You can adjust the layers to best suit your skintone for max effect. Using well positioned face lights can enhance the effect, I used red and cyan.   ...From the Engine Room is the gorgeous SOMNIUM Automaton MK2 mesh body, with a, 
outer frame and skeletal inner frame. The PBR materials are excellent and it poses well. It comes in 6 different texture styles. I used the black and red Enforcers for this image. Just wonderful.  ... From the Androgyny Event is the Maledictus Lacrimosa BOM makeup style that worked great on my male EvoX mesh head! I love the shadow below the eye, and upper lid with a metallic loud color.  Also at AE is the fun Prismo Aura attachment doubling as DNA molecules in my image. The hovering rocks move, some float, some spin in place. It comes with a texture hud for 8 colors and 7 glow colors.   ...In the background, I used the Ambice Cyber "Nova'' Station, but in my final image, you can barely tell it's still. Still, I wanted to include it and show you what it looks like below in the raw shots. The set is mod, so you can move pieces around or scale it up or down.=.


On him, Plague:
Scar: Cubic Cherry Decay [BOM, Materials](Camp Syndicate)(275L)
Body: SOMNIUM Automaton, Enforcer [mesh](Engine Room)(950L)
Makeup: {maledictus} Lacrimosa, red [BOM] (Androgyny Event)(199L)
Aura: TERIYAKI Prismo [mesh] (Androgyny Event)(499L)
Hair: Dura U122 -A: Men's [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Setting:
Set: Ambice Cyber "Nova'' Station [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky. Scar shown at midnight with local lights for materials effect.