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:

Midnight Order: The Pink Door (Escape from Club Apophis, 53)

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STORYLINE:  Romance drew one long, shaky breath. Then he turned toward the 1929 Ford Coupe.

It rested inside the warm pulse of the Safe Zone. To everyone else, it was a sanctuary designed to protect humans from Monstrum. To Romance, this one in particular was something stranger: a wound in time, still smoking from a crash a century old. Sophia's death-date should have been written across her soul two years ago. Instead, the date unraveled, hidden from the laws that governed the dead. Two clocks, both wrong, in opposite directions. It had to be why this barrier burned so bright.

"I know you’re there," Romance whispered into the quiet drip of the sewers. "These cursed eyes can see you."

Fire kindled in his gaze, burning gold in the subterranean dark. A burst of pink vapor enveloped him. His gritty punk outfit dissolved, replaced by the somber, ceremonial attire of a Jeoseung Saja. Deep black robes draped over his shoulders, his pink hair turned red, dark thorn-like patterns crept across his darkening skin, and the wide brim of a traditional gat hat cast his face in shadow.

He drew his demonic hwando from its sheath, a blade crafted for a single purpose: dispatching ghosts. The steel began to smoke with a pale-pink mist, sparks of fuchsia embers raining down from the edge, hissing as they touched the water.

"You were the only one who looked at a soul-sucking leech and saw a human worth saving," Romance rasped, his voice trembling as he looked down at his clawed hands. "And now look at me, Sophia. I have to play the monster once more... just to save you from becoming one. I will never allow you to become another of those hideous faceless Void Nuns haunting the zone. Do you hear me? Never."

He stepped toward the barrier, his boots heavy. He hated this form. The claws. The dark thorns crawling beneath his skin. The cold weight of the blade.

"Do you remember the last time I came down here?" Romance said, his voice breaking into something almost like a laugh. "To help you run the ratline. I was in these tunnels exactly forty-five minutes."

Static wavered from the car. A breath of amusement hummed from the radio, and she finally spoke. "You slipped into a pile of ghoul dung."

"I will not confirm that."

"You screamed so loud the Enforcers three blocks up thought someone died."

"Someone did die. My dignity. I never recovered."

He smiled, hearing her familiar laugh, even if it was carried through static now.

The laughter faded. The soft sound of rushing water filled the space between them.

"We were supposed to rebuild Neu Seoul together after winning the war. A Monstrum-free Korea. You drew city grids on paper napkins. We argued for three hours about where your waste-water recycling restrooms would be in resistance headquarters. And for the record... ew."

A soft, broken hiccup of static answered him from the dashboard radio.

Romance’s smile vanished, replaced by a devastating weight. "I've spent two years pretending you weren't dead. I still send you text messages. Still stupidly buying your favorite coffee every morning. Searching every shadow because I couldn't bear the thought that you were gone."

The static hissed, darkening. "I’m sorry, Pink. It's all my fault. Everything. I messed up. I was desperate to undo it. Turns out, the past is immutable. But of course it is."

"No! Nothing’s your fault," Romance choked, his grief bursting through. He lurched toward the Safe Zone, reaching for Sophia without thinking.

The barrier rejected him.

Pink-white sparks erupted beneath his fingertips, hurling his hand back. He stared at the glowing wall, stunned. Safe Zones had never denied him before.

"What...?"

He pressed his palm against the sizzling edge anyway. Sparks seared his skin. His eyes searched the shimmering barrier for any weakness, any way through.

"Free Energy. Harvesting the entropy from the past. It was genius. No one has to suffer. But they corrupted your technology, and now you're rotting in a sewer, blaming yourself for things you didn’t do. No, Sophia. No. This is how you fall. You’re already a Level 3 poltergeist!"

With gritted teeth, he plunged his blade deep into the barrier, shouting, "It isn’t fair!"

"No! I must protect my son!" a shriek tore through the radio speaker.

The air around the car buckled. Heavy iron wrenches, shards of twisted metal, and shattered glass erupted into motion, flying violently across the corridor toward him.

Romance didn't move. He stood his ground, holding onto the tiny puncture in the barrier, letting a jagged piece of shrapnel slice across his cheek. Blood trailed down his jaw. "Let it hit," he thought desperately. "Let it hurt. The pain means she's still real." At the very last second, his survival instincts took over, and his body dematerialized into mist. A heavy iron pipe flew straight through the space where his chest had been, smashing loudly against the limestone wall.

When he rematerialized, the debris clattered uselessly into the water.

Sophia’s voice sobbed through the static, horrified. "Romance... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to... I can't control it anymore..."

"I know," he whispered, leaning his head against the damp concrete. His breath came in ragged gasps. "You hid from me. You knew this would be the last place I would ever look. You tried to protect me from having to be the one to reap you."

The radio stilled.

"Idiot," he laughed weakly, wiping blood from his cheek. "You always thought about everyone else first. And look where you are now."

Silence.

Romance reached up, took off his gat hat, and let it fall to the muddy floor. He unclasped his heavy black outer robe, dropping it into the water.

He stopped being the Jeoseung Saja. He stopped being the idol. He stopped being the revolutionary leader.

He sat down in the mud as simply himself: just the man who had loved her. There were so many things he wanted to say, but nothing came out. He pulled his knees to his chest. Words weren’t enough. So he reached for the only language grief had left him. He began to sing. It wasn't a performance. He didn't use his polished stage voice. It was quiet, fragile, and rough with tears.

"Hiding in the Safe Zone and sad.
My love, your grief is you turning bad.
You're becoming a 원귀 I can't save...
A vengeful ghost wearing my Angel's Face.

Don't be scared. The dark is just a room.

Step out of the safety of your cage.
You called me Pink. your sweet escape.
But now Pink is only a doorway."

The static on the radio wavered. Romance’s voice soared, giving sound to heartbreak:

"Come through the pink door... 

come through the pink door... 

My love, come through the pink door.

Once you step inside, there's no turning back. 

I cradle every soul, 

sing every stranger home. 

But when it’s you..."

Romance’s voice died in his throat as grief choked him completely. Tears spilled down his cheeks, his raw sobs echoing through the cavern.

Then, softly, the car’s speakers played three ascending musical notes, answering his melody with a reply only he would recognize.

He looked up, startled.

Inside the glowing boundary of the Safe Zone, a pale, ghostly figure materialized beside the driver's side door. Sister Sophia stood in her simple nun's habit, her spectral face translucent, tears shimmering like spilled light down her cheeks.

She looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time in two years. She stepped toward the inner edge of the barrier.

"Why must love and duty be enemies?"

Romance shook his head, stunned. "What?"

Sophia’s ghostly eyes flashed with a faint, familiar spark: the brilliant, dangerous light of an inventor who didn’t bow to dogma.

"I refuse to accept this," she said, her voice growing clearer. "It’s just another problem to be solved. A hypothesis worth testing... if you’re willing to take one last leap with me."

Romance felt that old, familiar tug in his chest: Sophia, daring to dream of impossible things. "I'm listening."

"Instead of reaping me... make me like you." A subtle, hungry tilt touched the corner of her lips, a hint of poltergeist energy curling beneath her spirit. "I can stay with you, protect Jihoon, and perhaps... make a few monsters regret their life choices."

Romance stared at her, terrified. "Sophia... the Jeoseung Saja have rules. You're already a Level 3. What if I try to bring you into the spirit realm and it fails? What if you turn into nothing?"

He had never been more afraid of his own hands.

"Then I have nothing to lose except the chance to try," Sophia replied quietly, stepping right up to the edge of the barrier. "Inside this temporal lock, insulated from time, it feels like I've been waiting forever. I am stronger than you know. It’s you who needs to come to me."

Romance stood up slowly. He reached his clawed hand out toward the sizzling barrier. He didn't push with force or authority; he simply offered his hand in total surrender.

His hand passed straight through the barrier without a single spark. The glowing shield recognized mutual consent, dissolving around his wrist like warm water, spreading outward until the boundary unraveled entirely.

"I can't believe that worked," he breathed.

"Functioned exactly as designed." Sophia stepped forward, her spectral fingers wrapping tightly around his. "Take me away, you romantic fool. One last adventure into the unknown."

Romance looked at her, tears spilling down his face, as a genuine, radiant smile finally broke across his features. "Thank you for believing in me."

Sophia squeezed his hand tight. "We've always been at our best when laughing at those who said it couldn't be done."

Romance chuckled through his tears. "You really are impossible."

"Obviously."

With a sudden, brilliant flash, rose-pink smoke erupted from the ground at their feet, swirling upward in a column that filled the cavern. It enveloped them both and the mummified figure inside the car, pulling everything upward into the dark in one consuming spiral.

Then, nothing. Only an empty sewer. An empty car.

Epilogue

Around the bend, Kyra stopped in her tracks. Echo paused beside her, clutching her bandaged collarbone.

The sewer corridor behind them had plunged into absolute, dead silence. The warm glow of the Safe Zone faded, leaving only the sinister violet pulse of the Entropy Engine peeking out from under the hood.

Without Sophia's temporal shield, a century of frozen time crashed over the 1929 Ford Coupe all at once.

The ancient steel groaned. Corrosion bloomed across the frame in real time; rust flaked off in heavy sheets, the rubber tires dry-rotted and collapsed with a slow hiss, and the windshield cracked into a spiderweb of yellowed powder. The car sank inches into the sewer sludge, disintegrating from a sanctuary into a decaying heap of ancient iron.

Goosebumps crawled up Echo’s arms. Her eyes widened. "What? What’s happening?"

Ghost jumped in front of them, raising a heavy iron pipe, his jaw set in a hard line.

The rushing stream of sewer water slowed to a trickle... stopped completely... and then began to flow backward against gravity, churning into dark, frothing ripples that crested upstream.

Minjo grabbed a wrench from her belt and stood shoulder-to-shoulder beside Ghost, her face turning pale. "Do you hear it?" she whispered, adjusting her new AR goggles as they flickered wildly with red error warnings. "Something big is coming."

Kyra’s cybernetic eyes whirred, cycling rapidly through infrared and analog spectrums until the subterranean gloom shifted in her view. She froze, trembling, then slowly raised her arm to point down the dark tunnel into the churning water.

"Snake!"

On him, DJ Romance:

Hair: DURA - U139, Light [mesh](Midnight Order)(390L)

Outfit: Gild - UQC coat set_Black legacy(m) [mesh](Midnight Order)(250L)

Claws, rings: NI.JU - Acantha Rings/Nails Set - legacy m [mesh](Midnight Order)(250L)

Wings: Axis Mundi - Lust Demon, Male [Bento] [mesh](Midnight Order)(2000L)

Shoes: cococat - Gomusin - Black (Legacy M) [mesh]

Hat: Dope+Mercy Saja Gat, Sheer [mesh](Gift)

Earring: RavenBell - Starlit Earrings [Moonlit] [mesh](350L)

Waistchain: L&B Swear Plain Key Chain, LEGACY ATHLETIC [mesh]

Tattoos: HISS - PATTERNS FACE ROMANCE [BOM](250L)

Bodysuit: Bas de Laura Store Laura's Black Sheer Bodystocking with Long Sleeves [BOM](150L)

Eyes: S0NG - Oxy, Sunshine Eye [BOM]

Head: LeLUTKA - KANE [mesh](3990L)

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

Pose: created in Firestorm

Setting:

Setting: Dirty Rat - Sewer [mesh]

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

Salvage Station: Poltergeist (Escape from Club Apophis, 47)

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STORYLINE:  The Safe Zone held its breath differently than the rest of the sewer labyrinth.

The air here carried no scent of rot or rust. It was simply absent, as if this pocket of stone existed slightly outside the world's normal processes. Sound moved with a sluggish hesitation. Ghost's own footsteps arrived a half-second late, leaving the cavern to decide whether to acknowledge his presence at all.

The 1929 Ford Coupe sat anchored in the center of the rock shelf. It was still smoking. 130 years had passed, and the vehicle had not yet finished crashing.

As Ghost explored the car’s mysterious Entropy Engine, his wrench shifted position whenever he turned his back. The antique radio clicked and hissed without a power source. Condensation dripped from the ceiling in tight, rhythmic patterns that sounded entirely too deliberate. The car's rounded headlights pulsed a sickly yellow, twice, then died.

Ghost registered every anomaly. He forced his hands to keep moving anyway. Distraction meant death. He had to stay focused on the immediate task: salvaging enough cursed energy to construct a bomb and rescue his pack.

What troubled him most was not the poltergeist. It was the vehicle's engine block. He had never seen technology like this. A few scattered fragments looked familiar. He could puzzle out others through context, but the liquid core remained completely baffling. This was not electricity. This was something engineered decades ahead of its time.

Driven by sheer frustration, he wiped grease from his gloves, climbed into the front cabin, and stared at the reclined, mummified nun. Leathered skin clung to her skull beneath the tattered white habit. The gold necklace at her throat hadn't tarnished, hadn't moved, not once, in all the times he'd been down here. He checked the glowing blue display on his wrist-mount, calculating his shrinking window of time.

He looked back at the driver's seat.

The nun's head was now pointed directly at him.

Ghost scrambled backward out of the vehicle. His heavy boots hit the mud with a wet slap.

The dashboard radio flared to life. Static hissed, sharp and biting. It grew louder by the second until a woman's whispered voice bled through the noise.

"Stop."

"Stop."

"Stop."

He paced the length of the rusted chassis, checking the countdown on his glove again.

"Stop."

"Stop."

"Stop."

Ghost slammed his heavy iron wrench down on the hood’s frame. A sharp clang echoed through the cavern. He aggressively tapped a command into his haloglove, projecting a single, blinding blue word into the dark.

SILENCE.

The static cut out instantly.

He turned back to the exposed machinery and carefully gripped a thick, braided wire.

His wrench lifted, then flew past his ear. The iron caught the edge of his collar and missed his temple by a fraction of an inch. His datapad lifted off a nearby supply crate, spinning in the dead air. The headlights flickered in a rapid, erratic strobe. Both car doors slammed open and shut in a violent, deafening mechanical frenzy.

Ghost marched to the rear trunk. He grabbed a thick canvas blanket, dragged it to the driver's side, and threw it completely over the mummy's head.

He did not expect that to work, but the frantic rattling stopped immediately.

He walked back to the front grille and leaned deep over the engine block.

The heavy steel hood slammed shut with the force of a guillotine. If his reflexes had been a fraction of a second slower, the metal would have crushed both his hands into paste.

He gripped the rusted lip and tried to force the hood back up. It remained locked tight, resisting his leverage entirely. He braced his shoulder underneath and shoved upward. Nothing moved.

Ghost let out a long, ragged breath. Defeated by the broken physics of the cavern, he collapsed into the backseat, and stared out the shattered window at the rushing black sewer water. He could feel every precious, unavailable minute slipping away into the current.

His gaze drifted back to the front seat, fixing on the blanket-covered silhouette.

The blanket-covered nun’s head was still turned his direction.

He reached forward and yanked the canvas away.

He quickly tapped a message into his haloglove. Glowing neon text projected onto the humid air.

I AM GHOST. I AM MUTE. BUSY. MUST RESCUE FRIENDS. NEED BOMB.

Absolute silence settled over the leather cabin. Then, a faint, garbled whisper emerged from the copper speaker mesh on the dashboard.

"Sophia. That was my name."

The static hissed. "I built this engine. Stop."

He tapped a single, demanding response.

WHY.

"Entropy Explosion. Time rift. …Or worse."

The sound of the rushing subterranean river mingled with the low electrical hum of the haloglove.

Ghost steadied his breathing and typed again.

HOW EXIST IN SAFE ZONE?

"I am not evil."

HELP ME.

Ghost manipulated his wrist-mount. He projected a saved image of his college friends, displaying Minjo, Plague, Echo, Lisa, Kyra, and Kyle huddled together in the dirt of The Pen. He typed below the image.

CAME TO RESCUE FRIEND. WAS KIDNAPPED.

He updated the projection, pulling up a stolen surveillance feed of Jihoon. The boy lay comatose in the center of the Museum of Catastrophes. Bright lines of violet Zone energy snaked into his pale flesh. His chest rose and fell in perfect synchronization with each cursed energy pulse.

The holographic light glitched, casting fragmented purple shadows across the ancient wooden dashboard and the hollow eye sockets of the nun.

"Recent?" the radio buzzed, the voice trembling with static emotion.

He tapped.

TODAY.

He watched the hologram, and tried to imagine Sophia’s point of view, watching the violet lines Entropy power pulsing into a young man’s chest. The rhythm of it. Her creation used for an evil purpose.

A single drop of condensation struck the metal roof of the car. Then another.

The headlights slowly dimmed to a dull, amber glow. The car’s Entropy Engine gave one final, ragged spurt, then went entirely cold.

Darkness swallowed the cavern. The only illumination came from the faint, passing trails of bioluminescent algae swirling in the distant water.

Ghost waited in the absolute dark. The roar of the rushing river sounded hollow in the engine's sudden absence.

Sophia did not speak.

Minutes ticked past.

With a soft rustle of dry fabric, the canvas blanket slowly slid from the mummy's shoulder. It pooled onto the rusted floorboards with a heavy thud.

The radio crackled. No voice followed.

He leaned forward, listening intently to the white noise. The static shifted, adopting the distinct, rhythmic cadence of human breathing

He understood, with sudden clarity, that the silence was not malfunction. It was grief.

He tapped his screen one last time, projecting a final plea into the blackness.

HELP ME SOPHIA. CEREMONY TOMORROW.

The metal frame shuddered. The engine hummed once. It was a low, resonant vibration, sounding exactly like a machine exhaling after holding its breath for nearly a century. The twin headlights flickered on, burning steady and brilliantly white, slicing through the cavern gloom.

With a sharp metallic click, the car hood popped open.

"Let us begin," the radio whispered.

...

On Him, Ghost:

Jumpsuit: Starlit Endeavor - Machina Jumpsuit Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(1985L)

Wristpad: Starlit Endeavor - Machina WristReader Wristpad[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Hair: Dura - B95-HAIR [mesh]

Headband: TRASH - Covenant Unrigged Headband [mesh]

Gloves: LANEVO - Silence Gloves, LegacyM, Fatpack [mesh]

Head: LeLUTKA - CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)

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

Setting:

Bootle: ISHIKU - La Mer Swing-Top Beer Bottle[mesh](Salvage Station)(480L)

Spooky Eyes: HAUNT - Little Void - Puddle[mesh](Salvage Station)(159L)

Radio: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina ChatterBox Radio[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Boombox: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina LoopCrate Boombox[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Datapad: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina OmniDeck Datapad[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Flask: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina Rations Flask[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Toolbox: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina Toolbox[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Wrench: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina Wrench Gift[mesh](Salvage Station)(Gift)

Cannisters: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler II - Cannisters [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)

Oil: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler II - Oil[mesh](Salvage Station)(100L)

Radio: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler II - Radio [Dark][mesh](Salvage Station)(140L)

Corpse: ContraptioN - Wrapped Corpse [mesh]

Car: Dirty Rat - The Botched Job [mesh]

Setting: Dirty Rat - Sewer [mesh]

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

Fantasy Faire: Reservoir Zero

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: A messy haired child hopped across the hot metal plates of the floating city, Reservoir Zero, past the graffiti reading "water is worth more than blood," and "count every drop."

He danced on his feet, "Hot! Hot!" and quickly tied two used feedbags to his bare feet.

In the distance, a dark clad towering man walked across the metal catwalk to the center pumping engine of the city's cistern. Fisher. A warrior from the War for Life.

Scraper smiled. He vaulted off to the balcony railing, swung on a thick trailing vine, and parkoured his way down with all the caution of a celebrity crazed fan.

Fisher was the eldest in the city with white hair, war scars, and black machine eyes that were impossible to read. He was the city's handyman, a jack of all trades. Someone who knew the old technology, and how to fix things.

Scrapper peeked out from behind the pump's flywheel. He pointed to Fisher’s strange oxidized hands. “Does it hurt?”

Fisher chuckled, he seemed to know the child was following him.

“When it does, it’s only a reminder I am alive.” He offered the child a bit of freshly cut sushi.

Scraper squealed excitedly and plopped down on top of a pile of cords, happily devouring the gift.

“What was it like?” He spoke with a mouth full of food. “When there was land?”

Fisher was quiet for a moment, looking out at the vast watery horizon.

“There were vines like we have here," he gestured to the towering shacks stacked upwards. "And so much more."

"Really?"

"Green plants as far as the eye could see. They grew on their own too,” he winked. “Without any effort by humans to keep them alive.”

Scraper gasped. “Wow. That sounds amazing. Do you miss it?”

“I do, and who I was before the War for Life, but that’s the past. What matters now, is the joy of survival. Every day is a blessing, no matter how different things are. Do you understand?”

“Uh...,” Scraper blushed. “Not really. But I think I know what you mean. Do you want some help?”

Fisher picked up his fishing net, “I would love the company. I can show you how to do it. Would you like to catch your own fish next time?”

Scraper nodded eagerly, and together they climbed to the lower level.

Congratulations to everyone who helped make this year's Fantasy Faire another wonderful, inspired event and raised funds for a good cause. I felt so inspired by the Reservoir Zero sim, I squeezed none more post to highlight it before the Faire ends tomorrow. ... You can read more detail on the sim here: Reservoir-zero.

The theme for this story is what happens after you survive cancer. This post's inspirations are my mom who is a cancer survivor, the movie Waterworld, and the Reservoir Zero sim. ...Fisher is a blend of items from the Faire. I used the OneDay's Hajime outfit and paired it with the fun Grasshopper Street Tiger Shimp Hat, and ERG tool belt. To show his battle scars are, Hexed's Broken blood vessels, Misteria Infected gloves with materials effects, and Curious Kitties dark eyes. His pose and swords (for cutting sushi), are part of UZME's Dual Blade pose set. From Wicked Made is the copper Sterling Gas Lamp (check out the fun hover lamp in the store too), and ERG's Verdant Ceiling Pipe Light with hanging vines for a perfect tone with Reservoir Zero's theme. ... From Starlit-Endeavor are the Venusion Sci Fi Props available at the current round of the Warehouse. They are PBR and full mod, so you can scale them up or down, however you wish.

On him, Fisher:

Outfit: ONEDAYs - HAJIME - LEGACY [mesh](Fantasy Faire: Heian)

Hat: Grasshopper Street - GHS Tiger Shrimp Hat [mesh](Fantasy Faire: Bến Tôm Rơi)

Belt: ERG - Legacy (m) Mechanic Tool Belt / Blogger Pack [mesh](Fantasy Faire: Reservoir Zero)

Tattoo: Hexed - Broken blood vessels Face  EvoX [BOM](Fantasy Faire: Reservoir Zero)

Tattoo: Misteria - Infected gloves - Rust  [BOM, materials](Fantasy Faire: Requiem)

Eyes, makeup: Curious Kitties - Dark Eyes - Face [BOM](Fantasy Faire: Amon Galadrann)

Sandles: Gabriel GB::Geta (male) White [mesh](gift)(Fantasy Faire: Heian)

Hair: Dura U109-HAIR-FAT PACK FA/ Male [mesh](380L)

Head, Lips, piercings: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) [mesh](5000L)

Pose, Swords: UZME - DualBlade Set#1(Fantasy Faire: Stoneveil Crossing)

Setting:

Street Lamp: Wicked Made - WM Sterling Gas Streetlamp(Fantasy Faire: Reservoir Zero)

Hanging light, vines: ERG - Verdant Ceiling Pipe Light [mesh](Fantasy Faire: Reservoir Zero)

Scifi props: Starlit-Endeavor - Venusion Sci Fi Props [mesh](The Warehouse)(1932L)

Location:
Reservoir Zero - Sponsored by Oyasumi, Fantasy Faire 2026

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

 

Fantasy Faire: The Kitsune of Heian

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Sleeping on the temple roof above the busy marketplace of Heian, was a gentle and wise nine tail fox, Kyubi no Kitsune. Its white fur gleamed in the golden light, soft purrs rumbled in its chest. An icy breeze ruffled its fur. The sour scent snapped the old fox's eyes open. 

Doubt, rage, envy, fear, hopelessness.... These emotions had suddenly surged in the populace. The Oni were growing stronger. The Unweaver was approaching, bringing a cold miasma of doom with it.

The fox flicked its tails annoyed. Something must be done quickly to rebalance the land.

Kyubi no Kitsune rose on his gigantic paws and stretched out nine magnificent tails. With a leaf on his forehead, and a poof of fox magic, he transformed into a striking, friendly looking street performer, albeit his fox nature was not completely hidden.

He landed gently in the large square, and announced himself as the mighty Kyubi no Kitsune, to many dubious laughs. His fluffy tail waving, and ears twitching, he began to tell jokes and perform amazing tricks to people's delight. A crowd around him grew. His sunny nature was infectious. He encouraged everyone to sing with him, and even pulled audience members into a silly dance. Soon a full street party broke out. Food was brought and served. Young couples met. Children giggled. And by the time the sun set, Heian was full of warm hearts once more. The Oni had shrunk to the size of mice. 

Outside, the Unweaver seethed. Joy was the one thing it could never consume. 

It sneered and moved on.

The celebrations and fund raising for a good cause continue at the Fantasy Faire continue. Read more about events, live shows, the adventure game, and more. Learn more about the Heian sim here: MEET OUR SPONSORS: GABRIEL

On him, Kyubi no Kitsune:
Kimono: Fluffy Kreations  - FK Kimono, Legacy M [mesh](Fantasy Faire: Aventurine Promenade )
Tattoo: Beastie - INUARI OVERLAY, Red [BOM](Fantasy Faire: Vervaine Moors)

Parasol: floro - Tien Parasol [mesh](Fantasy Faire: Bến Tôm Rơi ) 

Earrings: VISUALPHA - oneness earrings [mesh](Fantasy Faire: Heian )

Necklace: VISUALPHA - saint necklace [mesh](Fantasy Faire: Heian )

Hat: KROVA - HEAVY Coolie [mesh]

Hair: Dura - U129 -LIGHT - Men [mesh]

Hair: Dura - Ear covers  [mesh](gift)
Collar: Bartimeu - B-27 Collar [L/A] [mesh]

Rings: ROZOREGALIA - NARUSAZA*RING, Legacy [mesh]
Ears: Level 9 - Vulpine Ears [Bento]

Tail: Aurascape - Vixen Tail Classic [Bento] [mesh](500L)

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

Claws feet: L'Emporio&PL - Damned Claws For Feet [mesh](340L)

Sandals: CerberusXing - Male Fang Geta (edit tint)[mesh](350L)

Eyes: Aii - Kitsune Red Eyes (50L)

Tattoo: Nuuna - Forehead fades 2 White [BOM](past gift)

Tattoo: Sn@tch - Fishnets [BOM](past gift)

Skin: MUDSKIN - Hajimu, A, no Brow, WINTER [BOM]

Head: LeLUTKA - KANE 4.0 [mesh](3990L)

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

Location:
HEIAN by GABRIEL Takuya Jinn

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

 

Engine Room: The Jellyfish Man (Escape from Club Apophis, 39)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE:    This was a heist. 

Which meant, statistically speaking, Plague was either about to become a legend, or a cautionary tale with excellent hair.

Finally, he was inside MasterGin’s clinic, the Fort Knox of DNA rewrite voodoo, and he, the Biohacker of Jae Won University, was about to steal it. 

In and out. Cure Jihoon. Fix himself. Save the world. In that order. …More or less. 

And if history wanted to throw in fame and glory, he wasn’t going to argue.

He came prepared. His parents thought that six-thousand-credit charge was for lab equipment. Please. Six thousand credits didn’t buy microscopes. It bought bad decisions with excellent specs.

In this case: a nanotech cloak blanket. Perfect for black ops. Terrible for subtle life choices. The enforcers hadn’t seen him at all. They were too busy chasing Kyle, Minjo, Echo, and Lisa.

Unlike them, he actually knew what to look for. Infrastructure. More specifically, signs of a negative pressure room.

He darted down another hallway, deeper into the labyrinth. 

The Plastic Surgery Clinic wasn’t a clinic at all. More like a villain origin story with a lobby. Polished floors, museum lighting, the kind of place where ethics go to get redesigned. He had no time to marvel at billion-dollar artwork, which genuinely pained him. The clock was ticking.

He took a stairwell downwards. Posh tunnels gave way to older tunnels, gleaming marble replaced by cement with all the charm of a decaying bomb shelter.

His foot hit water. The splash cracked through the hallway like a jump scare with no soundtrack to soften it.

Shit. He glanced around.

The corridor held its breath. So did he.

The pool of water he was standing in had a faint bioluminescence glow. It had leaked from under a sealed door with lots of unfriendly symbols that all translated, across every language known to man, into one simple message: ‘Do not be the idiot who opens this door.’

Jackpot.

He licked his lips. He could almost taste that Nobel Prize.

He produced a bypass kit, popped in a cursed energy battery courtesy of Sophia, and went to work on the door panel. The lock mechanism, however, was old. Older than he expected. Not smart-lock. Analog. Physical tumblers.

He switched tools. His hands steady, remembering things his formal education hadn't taught him, like how to pick a school locker.

Click.

The door swung open as if moved by an unseen hand.

Very Haunted House. Three stars. Too cliché.

The dark laboratory was state-of-the-art… if the state in question was 1960s and deeply unethical. The air around him felt damp, like breathing through someone else’s lungs. The smell hit next. Formaldehyde. And something that had been alive too long. The equipment bore the heavy scars of relentless use. His fingers touched a keyboard with the characters of “A” and “S” completely worn down.

From tanks holding something segmented and glowing, a sickening green light cast shadows on the walls as it writhed.

Not touching that. Not even academically.

He pulled off the cloak and paused at an old-school computer. The black DOS screen, with a single lime green blinking box, waited for him to type code.

…Right. He wasn’t that kind of nerd. Filing cabinet it was.

Drawers. Stacks. Paper everywhere. Useless. Too slow. He suddenly missed computers.

Something moved behind him. Not a step. Not a breath. …a slosh.

Shit. Please don’t be something glowing and legally classified as ‘should not have legs.’

He turned, looking for anything slithering.

Two transparent feet, outlined in a faint glow, stood directly behind him. A trail of wet footsteps led back to a massive, bubbling tank.

His heart stopped. Fantastic. Cardiac arrest in a haunted aquarium.

His gaze tracked slowly up.

A translucent man, built of something like jellyfish flesh, stared right at him. “Who are you?” he asked in a gurgling human voice.

Not a hologram. Not a projection. The nightmare was… wet.

Plague stared at his transparent body as if hypnotized. He could see liquids moving through his veins. Faint electrical sparks across the transparent mass of his brain.

“Forgive me,” the Jellyfish Man said. He put on a white lab coat, gloves, and sprinkled white powder over his head, until it resembled a sculpture. “I get so few visitors here. I forgot my manners.”

Of course he had a lab coat. Of course the nightmare had dress code compliance.

“I’ve seen this movie before.” Plague willed his voice to sound steady. “The Invisible Man, 1933. Overrated.”

The Jellyfish Man extended a gloved hand, “I’m Dr. Hoshu Tanaka.”

Plague shook his head in disbelief. Dr. Hoshu Tanaka. Founding father of DNA rewrite research. The man who wrote the rules, and then vanished from the game entirely.

“No, you’re not.” He switched to Japanese. “Dr. Tanaka died a long time ago.”

The Jellyfish Man nodded his head and sat down on a stool. “I see. You know who I am. You are sneaking around. You have a kit for breaking into secure places. That means you’re here for only one thing, …to steal my research.”

Plague took two steps back, subtly checking the seals of the bio-containment suit. The air felt wrong. Too thick. Like he’d already been breathing it too long.

“No, I’m just…” he gestured vaguely “… a low-paid, highly under-appreciated intern. You’d be amazed what HR lets through.”

“You are a terrible liar,” Dr. Tanaka chuckled. “You are aware,” he said gently, pointing to the open door, “That warning was mine. I put it there. It was not a decoration.”

Plague continued to back away. “If you touch me, I get infected right? Be honest. Are you venomous, contagious, or… both?”

“Contact transmission. Airborne spores require a 10-minute exposure.” Dr. Tanaka nodded and began to text on a halo pad, “I am writing Nurse Paine to let her know I am not to be disturbed for the rest of the evening.” He touched a button on an old control panel. The door closed and sealed back into place. “…at least from threats outside.”

Sweat dripped down Plague’s back.

Dr. Tanaka set the pad down and focused on him. Not like a person. Like data.

“Now,” he said, folding his hands, “Let us begin a fair trade of information. Tell me who you are and how you know my name. Then I might tell you where the decontamination unit is.”

Plague's eyes swept the room for another exit. Condensation dripped down the glass of a nearby pod. When he neared it, a pale worm, thick as his wrist, struck the glass with a sound like a wet slap. It gave him flashbacks to things he would absolutely deny ever reading.

Plague’s shoulders sagged. He turned back to the aquarium's sole resident, “The name’s Plague.” He gave a small shrug. “Marketing.”

“That’s not a name. Your only way out is a fair trade of information.”

Plague paused for a long while, studying the powder-covered face. He resembled Dr. Tanaka. Or something that used to be him.

Plague kept a safe distance from everything that glowed.

“All right then," he said, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his bio-containment suit. “We may or may not have a few things in common. But that depends on how you became transparent. You did a bio-hack on yourself?”

Dr. Tanaka’s eyebrow raised. He looked at the suit for a long moment. “I see. You are a DNA Hacker.” He pointed to Plague’s chest. “Experimenting on yourself was foolish. And now you are here to steal my technology to save yourself. Am I right?”

Plague chuckled and buttoned up. “Righteous indignation. So then. Your transparent-hood was an accident. Spores or contact?” His eyes swept the lab. All those glowing things. All of them eager to be near him.

“Worse,” Dr. Tanaka’s voice dropped. His gaze lowered.

A chill raced across Plague.

The lab hummed around them. Neither moved.

Dr. Tanaka then stood and glanced at the largest tank. “I live mostly in that tank now. I killed the parasite. Eventually. Before it could finish rewriting my DNA… before my mind was lost. But I exist like this now. Something inhuman. I can never go home. I can never see my wife and child. It’s better they believe what the world believes.”

Plague’s heart quivered. His hands went still. He looked at the large tank. Then at his own chest where the bio-containment suit pressed against his ribs.

“My work is what remains of me now,” the Doctor continued. “I chose to give my tragedy meaning by understanding how the creature rewrites its host’s DNA without rejection.”

“How long ago?” Plague's voice cracked on the question. He cleared his throat. “How long ago did you solve it?”

The lab answered for him. Nothing.

Plague studied the tanks. The Doctor. The powdered coat. The worn-down keyboard keys. Years of research, typed by hands that were no longer hands.

"That's how MasterGin's plastic surgery works, isn't it? MasterGin isn't reshaping people's bodies with surgery, drugs, or augments. He's infecting them with these... things, then altering them while their bodies are malleable. Your research is the off switch, stopping the process before they turn into monsters.”

Dr. Tanaka pointed to the far corner. “The decontamination unit is over there. You have about 5 minutes left before infection.”

Plague bolted towards the unit, then turned back to look at the Doctor. “I could get your life’s work out there, in the real world. Full credit for your discovery. I swear it. Your sacrifice…” His throat became tight. “I mean, your work should be out there helping people. Not locked in here being used by monsters.” He only noticed the tears when they hit his chin.

Dr. Tanaka’s expression was unreadable. “Three minutes. Or this conversation was meaningless.”

“I’ll come back for you.” Plague turned and ran.

He hit the decon unit at full speed.

An automated voice chimed overhead, “Decontamination Process initiated.”

The doors air-locked around him as he quickly stripped down to bare skin.

Through the glass, the Doctor studied what the suit had been hiding, his grotesque deformities. He didn't look away as a cloud of formaldehyde and chemicals enveloped Plague.

When the cycle had finally ended, Plague quickly pulled on his sterilized bio-containment suit and glanced outside. The Doctor had already submerged in his tank.

A green light pulsed through the dissipating haze. He stepped closer and saw a small decontamination transfer unit mounted on the wall, designed to safely move items from the lab to the outside. The case was bathed in just as many chemicals as he was, traces of haze still swirled around it.

He opened the hatch. Inside were several items. A gold VIP serpent brooch. He’d seen that on Nurse Paine’s collar. VIP clearance. A way out. And that wasn’t the only surprising thing. There was a meticulously pre-packed decontamination travel kit. Absurdly so, given the lab had just let him walk in with a school locker pick. Was this meant for Tanaka? An escape that never happened? He didn't have time to understand all of it. More items in the case were a data chip and an ornate gilded crystal bottle labeled GIN AESTHETICA™. The Doctor's formula. Someone else's logo. Inside, a soft blue glowing lotion simmered, smelling faintly of antiseptic and something he couldn't classify.

There was a note in precise handwriting: ‘For the one who returns.’

Plague stared at it.

He quickly pocketed the brooch, sealed the case, and darted for the VIP tunnels without looking back.


This post was inspired by my ongoing series, and super cool mad lab themed items at The Engine Room.   From Somnium is the Scientist's Coat. The Fatpack has a hud to change textures for the coat, shirt, and tie. All textures are PBR with a latex look, handy for dealing with messy creatures. lol.  ...From DeadBoy is 8 fingered stabby gloves, -- the Toxic Touch Gloves, for men and women. It comes with a hud to change the latex glove color, straps, and suspicious liquids in the syringe.   ...From NI.JI are the Rimless Glasses.  These are PBR glasses with many texture options for the lens and frame. It's mod, so you can scale and position for the perfect fit.   ...From Waffle Science Lab is the Artificial Mastermind consoles. I love these things. It has that retro NASA vibe to me. Just touch the consoles to change the metal color, panel, and base colors. They are mod, so you can move and scale how you like.   ... From Dirty Rat is the Manipulator sculpture, perfect for the desk of any serious mad scientist.   ...From ND Design is build from the recent Cyber Fair. It's two stories with stacks of mainframes, tanks with aliens, and a hatch that opens. It comes with a Rez box. The set is mod so you can move things around or tint. I created a bit more of a military lab look with tints, and a metal PBR floor.

On him, Plague:

Outfit:  SOMNIUM - Scientist's Coat - Fat Pack - Legacy M/A PBR [mesh](Engine Room)(2500L)

Glasses: NI.JU - Rimless Glasses [mesh](Engine Room)(325L)

Gloves: The DeadBoy - Toxic Touch Gloves (Legacy M) [mesh](Engine Room)(699L)

Scar: Cubic Cherry - Decay [BOM, Materials]

Makeup: maledictus - Lacrimosa, red [BOM]

Tattoo: Vae Victis Pillar of Inun EvoX [BOM]

Hair: Dura - U122 -A: Men's [mesh]

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

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

Setting:

Control room panels: Waffle Science Lab - Artificial Mastermind [mesh](Engine Room)(750L)

Sculpture: Dirty Rat - Manipulator [mesh](Engine Room)(385L)

Set: NSDesign - NS Exolab [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 :