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

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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]

Bracers: Aii - Riftwind Mercenary - Legacy M Bracers [mesh]

Boots: CULT - Darkness - Legacy M [mesh]

Thong: Noche - James Thong Metallic Black [B0] - Athletic [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)

Eyes: Gloom - Savage Fantasy Collection - Sclera 03 - Yellow M [BOM]

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:

Cyber Fair: The Escape 1 (Escape from Club Apophis, 58)

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STORYLINE:  Kyle dozed outside the glass door of MasterGin’s bedroom.

Cold, luminescent spores drifted past the glass balcony in slow, rhythmic pulses, glowing like deep-sea jellyfish in the dark air. It was hypnotic. The heavy hum of the cooling vents weighed on his eyelids, pulling them down.

The mission was simple: Escape. But MasterGin was guarding Jihoon’s limp, unconscious body like a clingy dragon sitting on a pile of gold. Jihoon hadn't opened his eyes or uttered a word since falling into the coma after catching fire in daylight. He was entirely at the mercy of whoever carried him. Kyle couldn’t force open the door lock to steal him, let alone carry unresponsive body safely across the chasm of toxic bioluminescent parasites.

Inside, Jihoon was sprawled across a luxurious silk bed in sleek, blindingly white bedroom. The room hummed with a low, throbbing energy as the overhead LED panels pulsed in a slow sleep cycle.

The Shadow Serpent slept curled around Jihoon's body like an ominous overgrown cat, — if a cat were made of liquid obsidian scales and flicked its forked tongue when snoring.

“WHAT’S UP DRAGONLETS!!!”

Kyle jolted upright, his heels skidding against the floor as his heart slammed into his ribs.

What the…?

Lisa? Lisa Liemawr was here?

He peered inside the room. The Shadow Serpent dissolved into dark mist, vanishing through the wall on the opposite side.

Was it looking to see what was going on?

A moment later, its head poked straight back out of the plaster, eyes wide with frantic urgency.

Click.

The electric door lock disengaged.

Kyle wasted no time slipping into the bedroom, pressing his shoulder to the far partition to listen. He held his breath, ears straining against the cold marble wall. Everything was muffled, a tense argument between MasterGin and Lisa. MasterGin was insisting Lisa worked for him.

What? No. That couldn’t be true.

Kyle leaned back, mind racing. No. Lisa was trying to expose him and his operation. She knew where they were too. Was she intentionally distracting MasterGin to buy them time? He didn’t know. Whatever game she was playing, she had broken in for sure.

An incredulous chuckle escaped his chest.

Even if she was out of her goddamn mind, he had to respect her gall for breaking into a vampire diva's private domain. MasterGin seemed impressed too, he was praising her. She’d be ok.

Wait…. It was silent now.

He pressed his ear against the wall again. Nothing.

The Serpent was curious too. It poked its smokey head through the wall, looking around before turning toward Jihoon.

It gestured wildly, dipping its head low in a sharp bow to the silent boy on the bed, then jerking toward the balcony exit.

Kyle didn’t need to speak Snake to translate. MasterGin had left with Lisa, and somehow Jihoon, even trapped deep in that coma, had just sent him the signal to run.

Gotta cover him. Gotta cover him now.

Kyle sprinted to the wardrobe, grabbing a white varsity jacket which was the only thing in MasterGin’s closet that wasn’t a dress or covered in glitter.

Face cover. Need a face cover. No daylight could be allowed to touch Jihoon’s skin.

His eyes landed on an old, hollowed-out TV monitor with devil-horned antennas sitting on a side table. Perfect. He snatched it, ripping out the tangled cluster of copper wire and dead capacitors, turning the plastic shell into a makeshift helmet. The chemical stink of old circuit boards drifted out.

No battery. No power cable dangling.

Yet, as Kyle lifted it toward Jihoon, the dead screen crackled to life. Static crawled across the dark glass in a soft, grey fizzle. For half a second, Jihoon's face appeared inside the static, faint, pale, and staring directly out from the screen.

Kyle froze, his throat tight, his hand still on the helmet casing as he stared the glitching screen.

“…Creepy.”

He shook off the chill, threw a heavy blanket over Jihoon, and wrapped him tight.

“Ready, Snakepoo?” Kyle muttered, hoisting Jihoon’s dead weight into a firm carry. “Can you get us across the walkway?”

The Shadow Serpent gave a single, resolute nod. It surged through the open balcony doorway, its long tail trailing thick black smoke across the floor.

The glass walkway chimed in its wake. Individual planks unlocked and extended one by one over the abyss, warm lights awakening in a rapid sequence.

Kyle stepped forward, hugging Jihoon tightly against his chest as the bridge settled beneath his boots.

“Lisa Liemawr,” he whispered under his breath, waiting for the final plank to lock into place. “I owe you one, Queen.”

The moment the path sealed, Kyle dashed into the darkness, following the eerie faint glow of the Serpent as it hurtled ahead.

On Him, Kyle:

Mask: +NK+ - Manji Mask - VIP 250L[mesh](CyberFair)(250L)

Wings: SOLE - SA - Wing DND (Black)[mesh](CyberFair)(329L)

Eyes: MIDORI - Abduction Eyes // BOM // EXO 01 [BOM](CyberFair)(399L)

Top: YUEBIN - Sinful Patrol - black [Legacy (m)+Athl] [mesh](350L)

Pants: L&B - LEGACYM Tapered] Swear Havoc Leather Pants [mesh]

Boots: CULT - Cobain - Legacy Male [mesh]

Hair: TRASH - Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh]

Headphone: !Reliquary - !R! Synth-o Ear Tap [mesh]

Skin: MUDSKIN - Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER [BOM]

Head: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, Jihoon:

Head: KNIFU - Deadware.exe Head [mesh](CyberFair)(499L)

Jacket: Muho - Tokyo - Jacket - Legacy [mesh](CyberFair)(189L)

Top: ZOS - Cyber Comprezzion Fatpack - Leg At [mesh]

Pants: AVEC TOI - Kai Pants, Turmoil, LegacyM [mesh](595L)

Boots: CULT - Gzad - Legacy M [mesh]

Claws: Subject Thirteen - Slay Plague Claws, PBR - LegacyA [mesh]

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Pose: Cyn~Cyn - Being Saved

Setting:

Furniture: Little Bee - Neon District FATPACK [mesh](CyberFair)(1999L)

Plants: .:Tm:. - C.DC10 Crackborn Cyber Potted Plants+PBR-light [mesh](CyberFair)(225L)

Table and chair: Your Dreams - {YD} Shinjuku Dining - Cyan [mesh](CyberFair)(299L)

Skybox: Erfe Design - Cyber Skybox House 170 LI  unfurnished [mesh](CyberFair)(2290L)

Pet: MoonRabbit - MR SNEK SPIRIT [mesh]

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

Engine Room: Mirror Mirror on the Wall (Escape from Club Apophis, 41)

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STORYLINE:   In the mad dash to evade the Enforcers, the team scattered. Lost and half-blind, Minjo ducked into the nearest available door.

The corridor was a jarring contrast to the plastic surgery clinic's sterile white above. Here, everything glowed warm and decadent. She couldn't read the details clearly. Her world had been a smear of shapes and color since the sewers took her glasses. But she could feel the difference. Thick carpet underfoot instead of tile. The air tasted faintly of mahogany and expensive old perfume. Warmth instead of clinical cold.

At the end of the hall, a brass door radiated importance. She didn't need sharp eyes to recognize that shape of authority.

She ran for it, heart hammering against her ribs. She pressed the gold serpent brooch to the kiosk by feel.

"Welcome home, Mistress Paine," the automated assistant chirped. The heavy door hissed open.

Footsteps echoed behind her.

Minjo slipped inside and dropped to the cold floor. She dove beneath what felt like a bed. Her hands found a brass frame, heavy embroidered fabric, the scent of dust and trapped air. She pressed herself flat and waited.

MasterGin's voice cut through the corridor like a razor drawn across velvet. "Trying to break what belongs to me? How ambitious of you."

"You can't do this to me." Paine's voice was tight. Desperate.

"Oh, I already have."

"I built this clinic. I run it."

"And yet here we are. Think of it as a sabbatical. A very long one. Your only duty now is to ensure no one else harms another glorious hair on his head. Now go. Before I'm forced to correct what jealousy has done to your face."

Heels receded. Precise. Unhurried.

The door swung open.

"Welcome home, Mistress Paine," the automated assistant repeated, just as brightly.

Minjo shifted backward into the shadows.

Something heavy smashed against the wall. She flinched at the sound. Glass, by the pitch of it, shattering across the floor. Something small skittered under the bed skirt and came to rest near her knee. She felt the edge of it with careful fingers. A shard. Mirror glass. She moved her hand away.

From under the folds of fabric, she listened more than she watched.

The clinic administrator's breathing was ragged. The rustle of fabric, a zipper, something heavy dropping to the floor. A change of clothes. Minjo filed this away. Paine shedding the white coat in private meant the white coat was a performance. What came after was the real thing. The unmistakeable shape and colors of a nun habit.

Then the soft thud of a body sliding down a wall. Knees pulling in. A choked sob that the room swallowed slowly.

Minjo had expected many things from Nurse Paine. Crying was not among them.

She inched forward carefully, staying low, until she had a partial sightline through the gap in the bed skirt. Shapes and light. The glow of a halophone activating. Paine's blurred silhouette on the floor, something small held up in the amber light, a lock of something pale, silver-bright even to her damaged eyes. Hair. Long and silver.

Jihoon's hair.

Paine gripped it like a lifeline.

"April 13, 2055," Paine said, her voice hoarse. "Club Apophis. Five minutes to midnight."

The phone projected a hologram into the dark room. Minjo couldn't make out faces clearly, blurred shapes and moving light, but she didn't need to. She heard sounds. Clinking glasses, upbeat music, layered chatter. A birthday party. Someone singing Happy Birthday with theatrical confidence. She recognized the timbre of that voice even muffled through projection speakers.

MasterGin.

She heard the wink in his voice, "It's going to be you."

The crowd began to chant.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Minjo held herself perfectly still. She was beginning to understand what she was witnessing.

Three. Two. One.

A sound she could interpret without seeing: heavy doors opening. Streetlight bleeding in. She could tell by the way the room's light shifted even through her limited sight. The music stopped mid-note. Absolute silence.

Then a voice she knew.

Uncertain. Slightly embarrassed. Completely ordinary.

"Hi."

Minjo's hand flew to her mouth.

No one on screen moved.

Paine killed the projection. The room plunged back into suffocating silence.

The sound that followed was harder to listen to than anything in the recording. Not sobbing exactly. The specific, ugly sound of a person coming apart when they believe no one can hear them. Ragged breaths scraping against the quiet. The wet sound of grief that has nowhere to go.

Minjo shifted her weight slightly to ease the ache in her knees. Her knee grazed something, the glass shard barely touching it, and the tiny sound it made against the floorboards detonated in the silence.

Paine's breath stopped.

Then the bed was gone. Hauled back with a jarring metallic scrape. Cold air rushed in. A shape loomed over her. Minjo couldn't see the expression clearly but she could read the body language in the set of the shoulders, the raised arm. Something sharp and metallic glinted the ambient light. Shears.

Minjo froze. She calculated what she could: the distance to the door by memory, the approximate angle of the blade by the glint, and her absolute zero percent chance of survival.

She waited.

Above her, something changed. The raised arm didn't fall. Minjo could feel the recalculation happening in the pause, threat assessment shifting, the quality of the silence changing from predatory to something else.

Slowly, the shears lowered.

"I didn't mean to pry," Minjo said. She kept her voice perfectly even. "I just needed a place to hide." She nodded toward the silver strands she could make out in Paine's hand. "You disguised your betrayal with a smaller one. Brilliant."

Paine looked down at the hair. "Twenty years," she whispered. Her voice was entirely hollow. "I gave him twenty years of devotion. I bled for him. He forgot I existed the second that boy walked through the door."

Minjo considered this. "He told you it was going to be you."

"I was the strongest of his disciples," Paine said. "MasterGin had been preparing for centuries. I thought I was the culmination of it all. The pinnacle of his achievement. But I wasn't. None of us were."

The shame left Paine's voice. What replaced it was worse.

"I followed the false god," Paine said, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "And I was envious of the real one."

Paine sank to her knees. She bowed her head deeply, almost pressing her forehead against the dusty floorboards.

"I didn't understand, but I do now. Someone appeared by chance. Seemingly unworthy. And..."

"Chaos," Minjo interrupted flatly. "Just the kind of surprise a god of chaos would find funny."

"No." She shook her head. "Jihoon is one of us. A Child of Apophis. He has to be. He's the Lost One. Please accept my apology," Paine whispered to the floor. "My envy blinded me. I will serve the true Chosen One. As the advocate of Yoon Jihoon, how may I assist you?"

Minjo looked at the blurred shape of the woman kneeling before her. She didn't offer comfort. She didn't offer a speech about forgiveness. The variables of their survival had just changed. She needed to exploit them.

Minjo dusted off her knees and rose.

"Can you get us into the ceremony?"

"Yes."

"Good. I need to know exactly what happened to Jihoon when he entered Club Apophis. I need the logistics of the Opening of the Mouth ceremony, Monstrum, the Old Ways." Minjo reached out and found the silver strands by feel, lifting them from Paine's hand. "And I'll be taking this mutant DNA sample. Thank you for your assistance."

For those still following along for the continuing storyline, this chapter just revealed who the Magic Mirror is in my cyberpunk horror retelling of Snow White. Paine is the mirror to MasterGin's evil queen. lol The Prince and the Huntsman will be revealed, as well as wrapping up the character arcs for Lisa, Ghost, Echo and Jihoon. I estimate there are roughly 4 more chapters left and an epilogue. What a journey!

This post was inspired by the series and wonderful items on this round of Engine Room which ends tomorrow. The setting has so many lovely things, and both outfits are gorgeous.   ...On MasterGin is the Nixon outfit by OneDays. It's one-piece outfit you buy in a single color or fatback.   ...On the long suffering Paine is the Rebis Scholar Garments. It comes in fits for men and women. It has textures in PBR that give the metallic edges sparkle, and a tattered hem.   ...From Milkbath is the Censer. Just wear it and it will trigger a 1 of 4 poses which you can alter in the texture hud. It comes in left and righted version, swing, and non swing.   .... From Cult is the Cornelia boots (shown below) for female avatars. The boots include gear details, and a spooky spinal vertebra heel. They are elegant gothic style with metallic details. But I really love the suede texture options, along with the leather.   ...The Bedroom set is by Eclectica. It includes the bed, dressers, mirrors, and lamps. The mirrors are PBR and will reflect the environment. It comes with a texture hud to change the metal color, and fabrics.   ...From Lore is the Captain's Lounge Chair, tables, and lamp. They are PBR with a hud to change the chair textures.   ...Also from Lore is matching skybox, Nemo's study. Its fantastic with elegant PBR textures.   ...From Duplexity is an art deco Radio.   ...From Ishiku is another stunning crystal glass set, Vintage Floral Decanter. It's mod, so I tinted it green to match my theme.   ...From Puddles is the Royal Scribe's Collection with lectern, feather pen, and book stack.   ...From Apika is the spooky Madame Palmelope, a hand holding a teacup, that when touched, will give you your fortune.   ..In the back, is the Architect Volta fireplace. I tinted the flames green for a spooky effect.

The Apophis series will be taking a break for the first time in almost a year, as I shift to blogging the Fantasy Faire. Be looking forward to it.  Apophis will return after that. 

On Her, Nurse Paine:

Outfit: REBIS - Scholar Garments . LaraX . OMNIPACK [mesh](Engine Room)(2000L)

Censer, pose: MILKBATH - Samael Censer [mesh](Engine Room)(799L)

Boots: CULT - Cornelia [mesh](Engine Room)(369L)

Headdress: ONEDAYs - UNHOLY HEADRESS [UNRIGED]

Hair: Limerence - Tamesis hair [mesh](990L)

Gloves: ContraptioN - Dapper Dandy's Glove, Maitreya [mesh]

Tears: SAXO - Bleeding Eyes lel EVOX Unisex [BOM]

Eyes: VelvetVue - Hibrida blue eyes :: sclera #1 [BOM]

Skin: VOGLIA - ELEKTRA Skin, EvoX, Icy With Brows [BOM]

Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - RAVEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - Legacy (f) Special Edition (Basic) 1.2 [mesh]

On Him, MasterGin:

Outfit: ONEDAYs - NIXON OUTFIT, Black, LEGACY [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Shoes: Deadwool - Dandy shoes - non rigged - black/silver wingtip [mesh](360L)

Claws: L'Emporio&PL - Oblio Vampire Claws male [mesh](350L)

Hair: bonbon - tame hair, naturals [mesh](439L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:

Bedroom set: Eclectica - Steampunk Bed [mesh](Engine Room)(850L)

Chairs. tables, lamp: LORE - Captain's Lounge Chair [mesh](Engine Room)(1700L)

Radio: Duplexity - Aetherys Lux Radio - Wood/Gold [mesh](Engine Room)(299L)

Glass set: ISHIKU - Vintage Floral Crown Decanter Dispenser [mesh](Engine Room)(490L)

Books, scroll, feather pen: Puddles - Royal Scribe's Collection [mesh](Engine Room)(300L)

Hand, teacup: Apika - Madame Palmelope [mesh](Engine Room)(499L)

Fireplace: Architect - Volta Fireplace [mesh]

Skybox: LORE - Nemo's Study [PBR] [mesh]

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

Midnight Order: Paine and Temptation (Escape from Club Apophis, 33)

(clink to enlarge)

STORYLINE: The deal was sealed with a handshake. Disgusting.

From her station in the shadows of the greenroom, Nurse Paine watched the transaction with the cold, clinical detachment of a coroner. The handshake between her master, the divine Dr. Lucien Ginerva, and that pink-haired parasite, Romance, wasn’t just a business agreement. It was an infection.

“You look thin. Bring your best face to the Opening of the Mouth Ceremony. Drink ten years,” MasterGin purred, releasing the idol’s hand.

Paine tried to hide her smirk. Ten years. An exquisite insult.

She watched MasterGin sashay away, his tunic dissolving into the clinic light, leaving the room feeling emptier, colder. He didn’t look at her. He never did. He just left her with the mess, as he had for twenty years.

She turned her gaze to Romance. He was preening in the mirror, hair slowly turning pink, and wiping a faint smudge of soul from his lip. Life he had stolen right out on the street, in front of the clinic, under the glare of a thousand cameras.

Reckless. A liability wrapped in velvet and bad decisions. He risked the Great Work. The Monstrum. The Master himself. All for a quick hit of adoration. And for what? To save a broken cyborg girl who was destined for the scrap heap anyway?

Romance caught her staring in the reflection. He didn't look ashamed. He looked bored.

“You are walking on borrowed time, Master Romance,” Paine said, her voice dropping into the quiet, lethal register she usually reserved for uncooperative patients.

He spun the chair slowly, crossing his legs with an elegance that made her want to snap his femur.

“Aren’t we all? That’s why I’m curious.”

He leaned back, studying her with those impossible, mischief-flecked eyes. He looked at her not as a threat, but as a specimen.

“You keep his house clean. His rules intact. His miracles on schedule,” he drawled. “But you’re mortal. Spending your life in service to a monster who barely looks twice at you.”

The words struck her like a scalpel, precise and severing.

Mortal.

The word hung in the air, smelling of rot. She looked down at her white heels. They were scuffed at the toe. Scuffed from running down hallways, kicking open doors, dragging heavy, unconscious bodies into prep rooms. Scuffed from doing the dirty work while he floated above it all in a cloud of clove smoke and opera music.

She forced her head up. She would not let this glitter-covered leech see her bleed.

“My service is not for his vanity,” she lied, the words tasting like ash. “It is for the Great Work. The resurrection of the old ways.”

“The Old Ways?” Romance laughed softly, a sound that grated on her nerves like a bone saw hitting a clamp. “You mean like the Opening of the Mouth? The catering alone must be a nightmare. Let me guess… he handles the guest list, and you handle the carcass?”

Paine flinched. It was a microscopic movement, a twitch of the eyelid, but he saw it.

Carcass. That’s all Jihoon was to him. But to her? He was the clay of her master. She ensured the transition was seamless.

“The High Priestess does not complain of the weight of the knife,” she snapped, her voice rising.

“High Priestess,” Romance mused, standing up. He drifted toward her, invading her sterile field. He smelled of amber musk and freshly baked cinnamon buns. “A grand title for a janitor. You look exhausted, Paine. When was the last time you slept? Or does he keep you running on stimulants and promises?”

He stopped inches from her face. His beauty upclose undeniable.

“He treats you like furniture. Useful. Silent. Easily replaced.”

Rage, hot and white, flared in her chest. Her nails bit into her palm. *Furniture?* She was the foundation! Without her, GIN AESTHETICA™ would crumble into a heap of lawsuits and bio-waste within a week. She managed the supply lines. She silenced the inspectors. She fed the beast. 

She smoothed a wrinkle in her a pristine couture scrubs.

“Be ready,” she hissed, stepping back to put distance between her and his seductive scent. “The camera is waiting.”

She reached for the door panel, desperate to be away from him, to be back in the cold, logical embrace of her lab.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The room washed in a sudden, pulsing crimson light.

Paine froze. Her heart rate didn't spike, it steadied. This was familiar. This was procedure.

She tapped her wrist-console. A holographic grid projected into the air, cutting through the red haze.

Sector 4. Sub-Level Maintenance. The VIP Tunnel.

Grainy night-vision footage flickered to life.

Five figures moving through the shadows. Covered in muck. Moving fast.

She squinted. The tactical gear. The girl with the camera. The boy with the glowing gloves.

The escapees.

The ones from the Pen. The ones who had caused a riot at the auction. They were here. In her house.

“Intruders,” she whispered, the word a curse. “Unauthorized biocodes detected.”

Her fingers flew across the console. This was it. The excuse she needed to vent the fury building in her veins.

“Summoning Enforcer Squad Alpha,” she announced, her thumb hovering over the execution command. “Seal the exits.”

“Wait.”

Romance stepped in front of the hologram, blocking her view.

“Don’t call the dogs yet. Look at them. They’re barely standing. Sewer rats in human clothes.”

“They are breaching the Holy Sanctum. Defiling the clinic where a God performs miracles.” Paine snarled, dodging around him to reach the icon. “Protocol demands—”

He grabbed her wrist.

The contact was electric. A fiery jolt shot through her core, ringing her like a bell.

“Look at me, Paine,” he breathed.

His eyes flared with a hypnotic, neon-pink light. The air suddenly smelled of yearning and first kisses. She felt the warmth brush her skin, syrupy and false, and she did not yield.

“You don’t want to call the guards. You want to let them pass. You’re so tired of fighting. Just... let it go.”

She felt the enchantment wash over her like a warm bath. It tugged at her thumping heart, whispered to her exhausted muscles that it was okay to rest, okay to fail, okay to just... stop.

It was a powerful spell. Against a human, it would have been absolute.

For one treacherous heartbeat, she wanted to let go.

But Paine was not just human. Not anymore.

For decades, she had taken her communion from the Master’s own vein. His blood, ancient and cursed, had rewritten her marrow. It burned like antiseptic fire in her veins, hardened her mind against the soft, sticky fingers of lower magics.

She looked at Romance. She didn't feel love. She felt insulted.

She didn't swoon. She sneered.

And then, she backhanded him.

SMACK.

It was a beautiful sound. Wet. Heavy. Final.

Romance stumbled backward, crashing into the makeup chair. He looked at her with genuine shock, clutching his bleeding lip.

“Do not insult me with your parlor tricks, Idol,” she spat, stepping over him.

She felt the change in her eyes, the iris burning red, legacy of the Master’s blood rising to the surface.

“Did you think I was mere cattle? I have supped from the Master’s own vein. His blood runs in my marrow. Your little love spells have no purchase here.”

Romance touched his lip, checking for blood. “Well,” he wheezed, straightening his jacket with a wince. “That explains the bad attitude.”

Paine ignored him. She turned back to the screen, zooming in on the feed.

Minjo. The robotics girl. She was dismantling a security camera with a multitool. The movements were precise, practiced. Familiar.

Paine’s mind raced. How did they get past the outer sensors? How did they know the tunnel layout?

Romance.

She whirled on him, pressing a scalpel-sharp fingernail into the expensive fabric of his lapel.

“You’re running a ratline,” she accused, her voice a low growl. “The smuggler in the Zone. It was you.”

He opened his mouth, but she silenced him with a look.

“And Sister Sophia,” she whispered, the name tasting bitter. “I will never stop looking for her. Our fellowship is broken without her. Did you make her disappear too?”

Romance slapped her hand away. The playful mask cracked, revealing something sharp and angry underneath.

“She died trying to save the world from monsters like you."

The name hit her like a physical blow. The air left her lungs. Sophia... dead? The possibility had always been a whisper in the back of her mind, a cold dread she refused to acknowledge. Hearing it spoken aloud shattered the fragile hope she’d carried for two years.

He pointed at the screen, at the dirty, desperate kids crawling through the pipes.

“They aren’t assassins, Paine. They’re children. They’re just here for the boy. Jihoon.”

“The Chosen One,” Paine corrected automatically as if it were scripture. “And…,” hurt leaked into her voice, “we were all born under the same star.”

“You mean you’re all born the same year?” Romance laughed softly, “Wow. Evil has aged you.”

She ground her teeth, and looked back at the screen.

The red-haired girl moved with surgical intent. She wiped slime from her face. The boy with the gloves helped the reporter over a pipe. They were terrified. They were filthy.

And they were walking straight into a meat grinder.

The Enforcers were stationed at the end of that corridor. Heavily armed. Hungry. If she let the alarm stand, those kids would be shredded in less than three minutes.

Paine looked at the red button.

If she pressed it, she did her duty. She protected the Master. She upheld the order.

But then... she looked at Romance. The "ratline." He was helping them. undermining the Master right under his nose.

*He treats you like furniture. Useful. Silent. Easily replaced.*

The words echoed in her skull.

Why should she clean up this mess? Why should she call the guards and let them have all the fun?

If these kids were smart enough to break into the Zone, survive the sewers, and breach the Sanctum... perhaps they were interesting. Perhaps they deserved a test.

And if they failed? Well, The Opening of the Mouth always drew hungry guests.

Paine lowered her hand. A thought, cold and calculating, formed in her mind. She watched the live feed collapse into static. She had already purged the archive. The system would remember nothing.

“The Master believes his security is absolute,” she murmured. “He believes no human can touch him.”

She looked at her scuffed heels. Then at the alarm.

“Let’s see if he’s right.”

She tapped the console.

ALARM CANCELED.

She keyed the comms line, her voice shifting instantly into her bored, administrative tone.

“Control, this is Paine. Belay that order. False alarm in Sector 4. Sensors are tripping on sewer rats chewing the power cables again. I will go down and verify the damage personally.”

“Copy that, Nurse Paine,” the radio crackled. “Standing down.”

The red light died.

Romance stared at her, his jaw hanging slightly open. “Why?”

Paine walked to the medical cabinet. She unlocked it with a thumbprint. The heavy, chrome bone-saw gleamed in the light. Beside it, a syringe of paralytic neurotoxin.

She slid them into the deep pockets of her pristine white coat.

“Because if they are competent enough to breach the outer wall, they deserve an audience,” she said, checking the weight of the saw in her pocket. “And if they are not… the ghouls will eat well tonight.”

She walked to the door, pausing to look back at him.

“Get to the studio, Romance. Smile for the camera. Sell the lie. Do what you were bought to do.”

“And you?” he asked.

Paine smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

“I have a mess to clean up.”

She swept out of the room, her heels clicking a sharp, solitary rhythm down the hall. Let the Master play with celebrities and haute couture.

The Master demanded order. But tonight, it was Paine who would become chaos.

Midnight Order is ending soon. Be sure to return for new items added, and if you missed any generious gifts.   ...DJ Romance returns sporting some K-pop Demon awesomeness. His edgy outfit is by Dope+ Mercy. You can use the texture hud in the fatpack for base colors and several cool patterns. The top is mod, so I edited it for a burgundy color with the nice heavy metal looking pattern. The shredded pants also have texture options, I used the worn version.  ...This style of pant look great with big stompers so I paired with the Cult Obsidian boots.   ... Romance is rocking a messy mullet by Dura U136. It comes in several color packs, I used Light. The hair is not rigged so you use the hug to adjust the fit and edit it. I added the hair the U135 for extra Romance style lengh in the back. Perfect match! In the raw image below you can see the hair without the longer lower end.   ...Also in the closeup image below, I included the gold version of the Auto Stellar Nose Chain. It comes in silver, black, and gold. It's mod, so you can adjust the fit.   ...How about that awesome Ghoul Tail by The Deadboy? It automatically BOM fits your skin texture. For me it auto added the Fishnet detail! You can adjust in the hud the transparency of the skin, the cartoon outline colors for the bones and the tail, or hide the parts you don't want to show.  ... Adding his trademark heart theme is the Heart Dermal Piercings by Stoic. They are mod so you can adjust the size and placement by hand.   ....Adding more gothic punk style, are the BOM upper Fishnet by AsteroidBox, and lower an old favorite by Sna@tch that closely matches the style of the upper.

On him, DJ Romance:

Hair: Dura - U136 -ALL-Men's, Light [mesh](Midnight Order)(390L)

Top: Dope+Mercy - Offcut Harness Top, LEGACY [mesh](Midnight Order)(300L)

Pants: Dope+Mercy - Offcut Trousers, LEGACY [mesh](Midnight Order)(350L)

Tail: The DeadBoy - Ghoul Tail [mesh](Midnight Order)(899L)

Nose Chain: AURO - Stellar Nose Chain, BLACK [mesh](Midnight Order)(299L)

Hair lower: Dura - U135-Light [mesh]

Piercings: STOIC - HEART DERMAL PIERCING SILVER [mesh]

Boots: CULT - Obsidian Male - Legacy Male [mesh]

Fishnet upper: AsteroidBox - Shredded Nets - Black Plain [BOM]

Fishnet lower:  Sn@tch - Fishnet Tights Torn [BOM]

Head: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

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

Engine Room: The Alt Tech Mystery (Escape from Club Apophis, 20)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Minjo’s Workshop, 2055

“This thing is lying to me,” Minjo hissed, her fingers jabbing at keys as the monitor bled error codes in crimson. Lines of text scrolled, stuttered, then reassembled themselves into elegant nonsense. “Every time I think I’ve found a pattern, it shifts. Like the data doesn’t want to be read.”

She spun in her chair and pinned Echo with a sharp look. “You’re the retro-tech historian. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

The air in the workshop smelled of hot oil and static charge, a tang that clung to the back of the throat. Echo clutched her battered field kit and let her eyes wander. This wasn’t the gleaming, glass-paneled lab she had imagined. It was a cathedral of machines that refused to die.

Vacuum tubes pulsed like orange fireflies in glass bell jars. Cables thick as iron vines hung from the rafters. In the corner, a brass automaton stood half-finished, its exposed ribs of gears glinting like the fossil of some mechanical saint.

“I’d almost think you were an Old-Tech fan,” Echo murmured, her voice full of reverent awe. “This place feels… curated. Like a museum where all the exhibits still want to work.”

Minjo gave a short, dry laugh. “Not nostalgia. Discipline. Automata tell you when they break.” She held up Kyra’s smart chip like it was a splinter under her skin. “So. What do you see?”

Echo’s pulse quickened. This was her territory. She slipped on cotton gloves, plucked the chip with tweezers, and slotted it into her portable analyzer—a sleek, Y2K-era contraption bristling with adapters, its glowing cathode display and keys that clacked with tactile defiance.

Her fingers danced. Green phosphor text flickered to life. Her breath hitched. “I’m in.”

The team gathered. Ghost leaned forward, his silence radiating an intense curiosity. Plague hovered, impatience sharp as his grin. “Well?”

“There are two partitions,” Echo said, her voice taut with excitement. “The first is a routing file. It’s… a map.” She zoomed out. A lattice of underworld arteries branched beneath the Forbidden Zone. “Detailed. Marked with hazards, safe zones, and access points. A complete underground network.”

Plague let out a low whistle. “Imagine that. The safest way through the Zone is under it.”

But Echo’s finger lingered on the second file. “This one… it’s labeled as a Sensory Recording.”

Minjo’s head snapped up. “Impossible. We don’t even have tech stable enough for that now.”

“A glitch from another timeline?” Echo teased, but her voice wavered.

Ghost’s hands cut through the air: Why give us a key for a lock that doesn’t exist?

Minjo’s lips curved into something predatory. Her gaze slid to the pedestal where she had placed another technical mystery from the Zone. “Maybe it does.”

The Black Snakeskin Box didn’t gleam. It drank. Its scales were a velvety, matte black that devoured light until the eye recoiled, as if staring into a pit that had no bottom.

“I’ve been studying it,” Minjo confessed. “It’s a delivery system. Quantum entanglement, maybe. But that would demand an impossible power source…” Her brow knit tight. “And yet—the same repeating pattern in Jihoon and the box. So I keep asking myself… what feeds on the absence of light?”

“Anti-light,” Echo blurted. “Like antimatter, but for photons?”

Plague snorted. “That’s not science. That’s pulp.”

Minjo waved him off. “No, no. It’s like it draws energy from what isn’t there.”

Ghost signed one word. Clean. Absolute. “Entropy.”

Minjo froze, wide-eyed, like Ghost had just given her the last number in a holy equation. She scribbled furiously across a pad, calculations blooming in jagged lines.

“Echo, build an adapter between that chip and that box. I’ll construct the viewer. Ghost—hack the box’s signal. Find a way to broadcast it back into the Zone and see if you can get a response from Kyra.”

Before anyone could argue, she whirled on Plague. “And you—I have your assignment. Once we find Jihoon, you’re the one who cures him.” She pulled a vial from a drawer; inside were the iridescent keratin crescents. “Claws. Proof he’s mutating. And here—” she flicked biometric scans onto his tablet—“the night before he caught fire.”

Plague’s eyes lit like a gambler’s. “Beautiful. But I need a control. Something from before mutation.”

Minjo hesitated, then crossed to a battered trunk. She dug out a dog-eared math textbook and, from between its pages, drew a delicate paper crane. When she unfolded it, strands of short black hair glimmered in the low light.

For a moment, no one spoke. The air seemed to still around the fragile keepsake.

Plague raised a brow. “You kept this?”

Her face flushed. “Don’t read into it.”

Echo glanced at her, caught the flicker of emotion Minjo tried to bury, and smiled knowingly.

Plague slid the hair into a sterile tube. “Control acquired.” He rolled up his sleeves. “Let’s see what our little monster is made of.”

Hours bled into a blur of frantic creation. Coffee cups stacked like a miniature skyline. Solder smoke, smelling of pine and hot plastic, veiled the rafters. Sparks flew from grinders, and the air filled with the whine of high-speed drills.

By dawn, something immense loomed in the half-light: a freestanding ring of brass coiled with copper, gauges trembling on its frame. Clockwork gears stood poised to turn like the teeth of a steel giant.

Plague lifted his head from a microscope, blinking at the thing. “What the hell is that?”

“A lens,” Minjo said simply.

Echo’s throat went dry. “We built a Hephaestus Gate.”

Minjo scoffed. “More like a chronal resonance viewer.” She gripped a heavy lever. “Ready?”

The workshop lights dimmed, then the ring flared with a low, resonant hum. Gravity seemed to fail, as if a poltergeist had seized the room—levitating pens, papers, and tools in silent revolt. Gears clanked, relays snapped, and the air thickened, tasting sharply of ozone. The inner circle shimmered, not as a hologram, but like a mirror remembering.

Luminous Roman numerals wheeled into a spiraling vortex, casting an eerie phosphorescence across the room as tools, notes, and loose strands of hair lifted, weightless, into the air.

And then— A faint brass horn. A snatch of jazz, warped by static. The shuffle of footsteps on cobblestone. A man’s laugh, cut short by a stutter of distant gunfire.

The sounds bled into Minjo’s lab like ghosts that had been waiting a hundred twenty-six years to speak. On the monitor, green text scrolled once, then froze:

ARCHIVAL RECORDING — CHICAGO, FEBRUARY 14, 1929

The Engine Room is back! Lots of wonderfully inventive and finely crafted items in this round, it's always such an elegant and imaginative treat.  .... After much thought and intense writing, the Apoohis story continues, shedding its cyberpunk and stepping into the Steampunk world.   ...For this first post, the gang unlocks a secret thanks to the RS Store Syn Time Twist. It's a clever illusion using projectors, it really does look like a time swirling down the drain. It's mod so you can tint and resize it. It also comes with a hud to tint its hologram colors.   ....From Starlit Endeavor is wonderful new outfit, Nomanda overalls, with a crazy number of mesh bodies supported, even canidae legs (LaraX, LaraX Flat, Legacy M, Legacy F, Legacy F Flat, Aesthetic, Jake, Anatomy, Ebody, Ebody flat, Ebody Waifu). For Minjo, I used LaraX Flat, and used the pant length option for taller boots. The textures are PRB and with a hud you can customize or tint.    ....Matching is the Nomada Journal. It can trigger animations and poses, raise or lower the journal, plus many texture options, and ability to customize the notepad.    ....From Apricot Paws are the Faux Fingers with fits for Lara X, Reborn, or Legacy F. They come with a texture hud to change out the look. Textures are PBR. Faux Fingers    ....Ni.Ju brings the new Tomtom Hair with style options, mullet with bangs, no bangs, rigged and unrigged, for men and women. The hair is PBR only and comes with many texture options.    ....Below you see another view of the Widow's Workshop by Candle and Cauldron. It's beautifully crafted and detailed. A trap door, sliding doors for a backroom, stairwell, fireplace stones, large windows and scenic landscape of Victorian buildings. It comes with a hud to switch turn off the landscape, or switch between PBR textures of tile floor or wood, wood walls or aged wallpaper.    ....Standing in for Black Snakeskin Box, is the Wormhole Suitcase by Linkrave. It's a wearable transporter you can program for up to 5 locations. Pretty fun!

On her, Minjo, Robotics prodigy:

Headset: Waffle Science Lab [W] Operator Headset [mesh](Engine Room)(250L)

Journal: Starlit Endeavor Nomada Journal and Pen [mesh](Engine Room)(600L)

Outfit: Starlit Endeavor Nomada Overalls Set (LaraX Flat Human) [mesh](Engine Room)(1900L)

Arms: Apricot Paws: Faux Fingers [mesh](Engine Room)(527L)

Hair: NI.JU Tomtom Hair, naturals [mesh](Engine Room)(300L)

Boots: CULT Ashton - MaitreyaX [mesh]

Glasses: GRAAL STORE Elion Glasses [mesh](249L)

Bodysuit: Sn@tch Full Knit Bodysuit, Black [BOM]

Head: LeLUTKA CAMILA [mesh](3990L)

Body: Maitreya Mesh Body LaraX [mesh](2750L)
Body mod: Maitreya Mesh Body - LaraX FlatChest Add-on [mesh](499L)

Setting:

Portal: RSStore RS-Syn-Time Twist [mesh](Engine Room)(525L)

Skybox: Candle And Cauldron C&C - The Widow's Workshop [mesh](Engine Room)(399L)

Suitcase: LINKRAVE Wormhole Suitcase - Aged Brown [mesh] (685L)

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

CyberFair, Androgyny Event: Game Night (Escape from Club Apophis, 17)

STORYLINE: At Echo’s place, Game Night had always been holy. The walls sweated with posters from forgotten animes, cartridges stacked like reliquaries. A broken CRT flickered in the corner, its light gleaming against the glossy spines of VR headsets charging on the floor. Old consoles slept under tangles of neon wire. Past and future elbowed each other here, welded together into an altar of outcast survival.

But tonight, the altar felt desecrated. The ramen stink had gone sour, heat from the overworked circuits clinging like mildew on their skin. The hum of machinery buzzed thin as a mosquito trapped in a stasis pod. Every pixel of light seemed to stutter, as though the room itself wanted to look away.

The longtime friends sat among the relics, eyes downcast. Plastic dice rested like bones in the dust. Once, this room had roared with their laughter, their curses, their mock battles against faceless mobs. Now the silence gnawed the edges of everything.

No one said his name. The empty seat screamed it for them.

A holo-field flickered above the controller, pixel static drifting like dust motes. The interface resolved, retro-font glowing in sickly neon:

PLAYER 2: METEOR STRIKE
Status: Waiting to log in…

Beside the text hung Jihoon’s old profile image, frozen long before his face turned impossibly flawless. A crooked smile in braces, his lucky hat askew. The boy they remembered. The boy who wasn’t supposed to vanish.

“...So we’re just not gonna talk about it?” Echo finally muttered, shoving a stack of chip bags aside. “He was our guy. Friday raids. Pizza runs. Jihoon. And now—”

Her words bled into the voice that seeped from the battered speakers of the HEXA Herald, glitch-glossy and smug. Lisa Liemawr.

“—banned lithium augments. Combustion risk higher than your grandma’s vape pen, people. Campus golden boy? More like campus fraud. He went boom because he cheated. And let’s be honest, nobody turns that pretty without paying for it. But hey, don’t just take my word for it! Witness reports are in. Kyra, yes, the girlfriend, says Jihoon was desperate to be someone, at any cost. Fame, fortune, flames, baby!” Lisa’s laughter bubbled, synthetic and cruel. “Play stupid games, win spontaneous combustion.”

Plague’s fist slammed the table, rattling a graveyard of half-broken controllers. “She’s killing him twice,” he snarled. “This is so messed up. The guy wouldn't even update to a vision augment. Always said putting metal in your body was just one bad update away from the morgue.” His fist balled tighter, trembling. “I thought he DNA-hacked himself… thought he chose it. God, I thought he wanted to leave us behind.”

The others flinched. They had thought the same. They’d mocked him, shut him out, just like the popular ones always did to them. Jihoon had laughed it off, pretending everything was fine. Pretending—like them—that he wasn’t burning inside.

Echo turned away, her hair a curtain. But then came a shuddering breath, the sound of denial breaking. Her voice spilled into the stale air, soft as a scalpel, merciless as truth.

“I keep seeing him on fire,” she whispered. “In my dreams, he’s burning and screaming, and I try to drag him out… but my hands just pass right through.” Her tears traced clean tracks down her cheeks. “I always fail. And we failed him. We didn’t even ask if he was okay. We just… looked away.”

The confession landed heavier than silence.

Ghost said nothing. He picked up the twenty-sided die, the sacred artifact of their friendship, their last excuse for avoidance. He didn’t roll it. He hurled it into the darkest corner. The clatter echoed, final as a coffin lid.

In the ringing quiet, the group froze. For a heartbeat, it felt like the room itself recoiled. Then Ghost keyed his holo-pad. A map of the city sharpened into view, its glow bleaching their faces. Jae Won University Hospital. The map drilled down through glass and steel until it locked on Intensive Care, Room C, -- YOON JIHOON. 

Ghost’s hologram gloves flickered, projecting his urgent sign language into the dusty air, “Done pretending.”

The words hung like a verdict. Ghost turned, his shadow dragging long across the relics as he walked for the door.

For a stunned beat, no one moved. Then Plague’s fist uncurled. Echo scrubbed her eyes raw, standing straighter than she had in weeks. Echo pushed her chair back with a final scrape.

One by one, they followed. Haunted, ashamed, and no longer hiding, they left the mausoleum of play behind.

Jihoon was waiting. ...In the hospital, in their nightmares, in the fire they could never unsee. Whatever had consumed him, it hadn’t been augments, or hacks, or doping. It was something far worse. And they had let him face it alone.


...

Such a powerful and pivotal chapter. This was written months ago, and it was just pure luck that Cyber Fair just so happens to have a major cool game in it! I was just blow away by how neat it was and the quality of the work. I went to the GeckoGames main store to get more help on setting up the game. So here I will pass it along for you, so you can play your own games!