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

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STORYLINE: Apophis ATELIER Underground, 5:00 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She felt sick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come with me."

He spun on his heels.

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

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

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

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

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

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

MasterGin stopped beside a illuminated garment rack.

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

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

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

Was that true, or just more theatrical bullshit?

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

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

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

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

He raised an eyebrow.

"So I can have it?" Lisa pressed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The demonic tailor handed MasterGin a glowing halophone pad.

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

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

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

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

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

The tailor bowed low and scampered into the shadows.

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

Lisa stopped dead on the cold floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thwack.

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

He froze.

Closed his eyes.

Inhaled slowly.

Exhaled.

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

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

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

"Mirror, prepare the vat immediately."

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

"A face's worth."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa grinned, thoroughly enjoying his irritation.

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

He let out a low, musical laugh.

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

He held out his palm, expecting her halophone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CRACK.

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

A violent surge of nausea hit her throat.

"I'm gonna be sick..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

She needed a strategy, and she needed it now.

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



On her, Lisa Liemawr:

Gown, Candelabra: Domus - Ravenmourne Dress, Ebody,  fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(1699L)

Corset: VoluptasVirtualis - FOLIA.Corset [mesh](Engine Room)(475L)

Tiara: VoluptasVirtualis - FOLIA Tiara [mesh](Engine Room)(150L)

Metal legs: Evil Baby - Valerie's Legs - Metals Pack [mesh](Engine Room)(499L)

Metal arms: Nefekalum - Graven - Gold/Gold // Tattoo [BOM](Engine Room)(199L)

Hair: CAMO - Nefera F-Locs [mesh](Engine Room)(699L)

Earrings: SIGMA - Escape earrings [mesh](Engine Room)(320L)

Chocker: Sublime - Willa Choker, Fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(500L)

Gloves: HEIKE - Disturbed Gloves (REBORN) [mesh]

Head, eyes, skin: LOGO - Dawn Desert Nomad [mesh]

Body: REBORN by eBODY v2.0 [mesh]

On him, MasterGin:

Outfit: One Days - [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Mask: Pendulum - Raviel [mesh](Engine Room)(1250L)

Heels: Arltos Afterlife - Enid, black [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(450L)

Hair: Ginko Hair - #200 Hair - Unrigged [mesh]

Cigarette holder: GRAAL SMOKING SNAKE [mesh](349L)

Head: LeLUTKA - CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh]

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

Setting:

Setting: Oblivis - The Grand Stone Gate Mossystone [mesh](Engine Room)(450L)

Wall candle holder: Blue Blood - Cradle Wall Candle [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(199L)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1) Test Formula 1 & 2 (Drawing of two glowing blue bottles next to a twisting DNA helix)

Formula 1: MasterGin’s DNA Rewrite / Force Shift

Formula 2: Arrest Full-Body Metamorphosis

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Visual proof. It actually worked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plague blinked, processing the logic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned back to his whiteboard.

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

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

CRASH.

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

Plague bolted from the whiteboard to the reinforced window.

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

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

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

A total blackout.

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

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

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

“No. No, no, no!”

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

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

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

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

His eyes snapped open. He knew that hum.

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

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

He whipped out his halophone.

Dead. Just like the power grid.

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Entropy.

But how?

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

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

Hypothesis time. A stupid one, probably.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned in slowly, swab at the ready.

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



On him, Plague:

Glasses: Inktooth - Antique Optometrist Pince-Nez, realistic [mesh](Engine Room)(250L)

Top: GRAAL - COMSTOCK SHIRT/VEST, PANTS LEGACYA [mesh](Engine Room)(399L)

Armband, gloves, jacket: Starlit Endeavor - Vitala outfit + accessories [mesh](Engine Room)(2985L)

Bag: Starlit Endeavor - Vitala Bag, Bottles [mesh](Engine Room)(600L)

Book: Starlit Endeavor - Vitala Book [mesh](Engine Room)(600L)

Shoes: Deadwool Dandy shoes - black/silver wingtip [mesh]

Makeup: maledictus - Lacrimosa, red [BOM]

Hair: Dura - U122 -A: Men's [mesh]

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

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

Setting:

Animesh: Apika - Dr. Plague - Deco Rezz [animesh](Engine Room)(499L)

Coffee Machine: ERG - Coffee Machine [mesh](Engine Room)(330L)

Sculpture: What's Lost Spirits - WLS MECHANICAL DOLL [mesh](Engine Room)(400L)

Staff: Starlit Endeavor - Vitala Staff [mesh](Engine Room)(600L)

Mirror: Fetch - Nightveil Mirror - PBR Textures [mesh](Engine Room)(199L)

Lights: Static - Cobblebug Wall Lamps PBR Copper [mesh](Engine Room)(325L)

Flower: Blue Blood - Preserved Mirage, Terrarium, Blue Flowers [Animesh](Engine Room)(199L)

Cabinet: C&C - Reactive Glass Cabinet - Vintage [mesh](Engine Room)(249L)

Skeleton: Cica's - skeleton worm [Animesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Lantern: LORE - Anglerfish Lantern [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Display: Dirty Rat - Plague Doctor [mesh]

Desk, Chair: Eclectica Curiosities - Steampunk office desk, chair [mesh]

Desk clutter 1: Den of Inquiry - Mortar & Pestle [mesh]

Desk clutter 2: RnR - Lab Frame A, B, Suspicious Fluids [mesh]

Pet: Milk Motion - Axolotl pink - static [mesh]

Aquarium: JIAN - Longfin Tetra Aquarium [mesh]

Portal: RS-Syn - Time Twist [mesh]

Skybox: C&C - The Widow's Workshop [mesh]

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

Cyber Fair: The Scoop of the Century 2 (Escape from Club Apophis, 57)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Forbidden Zone, MasterGin’s Personal Suite

“What’s up, Dragonlets! It’s your girl Lisa Liemawr of the Hexa Herald, reunited with the new and improved M10. Woot Woot! You'll never guess where we are. 150 meters below GIN AESTHETICA™. #SecretBunker. But Lisa, why does a Plastic Surgery Clinic need an underground lair? Good question. We're about to break open The Scoop of the Century! …Or so this fetching eye candy tells me.”

M10’s optic lens swung from Lisa’s face, focusing on the supermodel like figure framed in the doorway.

Clove cigarette smoke.
The white Marilyn hair.
Jihoon’s new photogenic face. “Lathandro™.”

“I mean, what the hell am I looking at?” Lisa leaned toward the camera. “Is MasterGin forming a boy band of baddies?”

The figure gave a soft dry snort.

SUS. 

Jihoon barely held eye contact during press junkets. Whoever was wearing his face right now owned the room like he'd built it himself.

The camera pivoted back to Lisa, her eyes shining with scandal hunting delight. “I have questions, Dragonlets. Click subscribe if you think we found our lost baseball ringer Lathandro. Click like if you think this is extra SUS. Leave a comment if you think Lisa sucked in too much apocalypse sewer sludge and is high out of her mind… or dead.”

Jihoon burst out laughing.

The sound was deeper than Lisa remembered. Smooth as polished obsidian. Dark. Entirely wrong.

He smirked with MasterGin’s exact theatrical confidence, dragging slow smoke from the long-stemmed silver snake cigarette while flashing his long silver claws. “That’s why I like you, Miss Lisa Lies More. You’re bold. You make me laugh.”

He turned toward the interior, waving a manicured hand. “Come. Let’s talk business.”

He paused mid-step as a shudder rippled across his skin.

Lisa whipped out her halophone, fingers flying as she snapped rapid photos.

Jihoon’s features stuttered. The pale flesh blurred like wet oil paint. White hair darkened to gold blond. Wrinkles dug into his forehead and around eyes. Darker and mottled, his skin was aging decades in a fraction of a second. It was a face Lisa had never seen, not even in the Hexa Herald archive. 

Click. Click.

Another glitch and the moment vanished. Flesh bleached instantly back to porcelain. Features tightened into razor-sharp lines. Pale blue eyes flared under the light.

MasterGin emerged like a sculpture freshly carved from white marble.

Of course. He'd worn the “Lathandro™” face like a costume, just to watch her flinch.

His smile widened. He knew she had seen it.

“Or did you forget you work for me, Dear?”

Lisa forgot to breathe. The camera kept recording, storing the rapid-fire captures in her local buffer. For one single heartbeat, she had glimpsed something real beneath the god. A man hidden beneath layers of living art and Glamour.

“You look disappointed,” he purred.

Lisa swallowed hard, holding her device steady. “I’m just deciding which face belongs to the guy paying my checks.”

His smile broadened, sharp and predatory. “Careful, Dear. Never ask a plastic surgeon if his face is real.”

The air smelled of clove masking the heavy, copper tang of dried blood.

Lisa stepped past him into the suite, keeping her eyes moving. “Well now. Color me surprised. I thought your lair would be obsidian and gold, with bloodless bodies stacked in the corners. Instead, this place is immaculate and white.”

Her gaze caught a huge circular holographic sphere suspended around a white leather hover chair. Its translucent surface crowded with surveillance feeds, biometric readouts, and shifting data streams. A single monitor glowed beside the hovering lounger, while a sleek holder displayed MasterGin’s personal halophone like a ceremonial relic.

She took rapid shots, zeroing in on the familiar faces flickering across the holographic display: Plague moving through Sector 4 on repeat, Echo, Minjo, Hwan, Kyra, Paine... Then Lisa saw herself from three seconds earlier, standing in this exact doorway.

“Is this all live?”

MasterGin raised a slim remote.

The holographic sphere folded inward, every face and data stream collapsing into a single white point before vanishing entirely.

“The disappointment is mine,” he said, letting his lip curl into a dramatic pout. “I present to you the secret of my empire, and all you care about is security footage.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow, double-checking that M10 had cached the screen layout before the black-out. “So then. You invited me into your pad. Does that mean you want to suck my blood, or some standard vampire bullshit?”

“Nothing so gauche.” He lit another cigarette, the sweet scent of cloves filling the room. “I have an assignment for you.”

While his gaze dropped to his tablet, Lisa slid one foot back, measuring the distance to the corridor.

“Silence?” MasterGin looked up, his pale eyes catching her mid-pivot. “I see. Hesitation.”

Lisa froze. Cornered.

The ancient vampire glided across the floor, his boots making no sound against the polished white stone. The heavy door slammed shut behind her with a firm click.

“Before you attempt an escape, there is something you should see. Come.” He gestured with a single long finger.

With no path backward, Lisa followed.

M10 hovered by the door frame, its internal gyros whining as it refused to cross deeper into the structure.

She couldn't blame it. M10 had good reason to fear MasterGin. She glanced at the faint burn scar still visible beneath its new paint job.

They stepped through a side portal directly onto an elevated walkway overlooking the Apophis ATELIER factory floor. The scale hit Lisa like a physical punch. Below them, elaborate silk gowns and armor rigs hung from high ceiling tracks. Low-level goblins and demon assistants moved rapidly between buzzing sonic sewing machines and vats of dye. The air here was heavy with hot metal, burning ozone, and synthetic silk fumes.

MasterGin crossed the catwalk toward his glass office, where a glowing nameplate read Evil Queen. Mounted behind his desk sat a massive LED board displaying confirmed attendees for the Opening of the Mouth Ceremony, listing international heads of state, corporate lords, and high-tier influencers.

“Ah, here it is,” MasterGin said, stopping beside the White Snakeskin Box on his desk. He flipped the latch and reached inside, pulling out a waterlogged, filth-stained teddy bear.

Teddy!

Lisa’s stomach turned to lead. She reached out, gripping the edge of the glass desk to keep her knees from giving way.

“Awww. Did you lose something, my Dear?” His claws dug into the plush fur, ripping the seams open with slow precision. “Something that runs on…” He reached inside and yanked out the glowing Devil Heart battery that powered her long-range transmission. “…My power?”

He closed his hand into a fist. Micro-gears popped and sparked. Metallic dust and shattered glass leaked between his fingers.

“You really should stop mistaking hidden cameras for hidden secrets.”

Lisa swallowed down the burning bile in her throat. Teddy was her life raft. That bear held raw, unedited footage of the prisoners and auction, primed to blast past the jamming grid the second it breached the Forbidden Zone’s perimeter. Without it, there was no backup. No rescue team coming. No proof.

She stared at the metallic dust on his hand. How much did he actually see? Had he been watching their entire path through the sewers, the pen, and the clinic? Were their desperate moves just part of his show?

MasterGin wiped his palm on a silk handkerchief, his eyes locked onto hers with dark satisfaction.

“How?” was all she could say.

“Entropy power is traceable, my Dear. Don’t take it personally,” he said softly, stepping closer until she could smell the clove smoke on his breath. “I have had a very long time to plan.”

On him, MasterGin:

Top: GRIMA - Tanya Tactical Top [Legacy V-Tech][mesh](CyberFair)(650L)

Pants: GRIMA - Tanya Tactical Pants Bulge [LegacyF][mesh](CyberFair)(650L)

Boots: Diaboli Design - Excinitor fatpack [mesh](CyberFair)(999L)

Skin: VelvetVue - Kai Skin Ivory (VE) / NO BROWS [BOM](CyberFair)(699L)

Eyes: EUPHORIC - Xena Eyes #P3-01 [BOM] (380L)

Nails: AsteroidBox - Simple Nails - LegacyF [mesh]

Cigarette holder: GRAAL - SMOKING SNAKE [mesh](349L)

Hair: bonbon - tame hair, naturals [mesh]

Collar: Cruel - Sulfur Gorget, Legacy M [mesh](100L)Head: LeLUTKA - CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh]

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

Pose: AGATA mode - agapee_unpack P4

Setting:

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

Statue: Erfe Design - Arog Techno Woman White PBR 3 LI [Erfe Design]

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

Midnight Order: The Dare (Escape from Club Apophis, 11)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Kyle Baek was not a pleasant person. He could find fault with a rainbow. Puppies? Overrated. Free pizza? Cardboard with marketing. If joy walked into the room, Kyle would be leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, listing the reasons joy should sit back down and shut up. He didn’t just rain on parades, he summoned a Category 5 typhoon, then complained about how wet his shoes were.

No good deed survived his snark. No sweet moment escaped his venom. Even trolls found him exhausting.

It was almost an art form.

And yet…

As much as Kyle specialized in rejecting the very concept of warmth, there was something gnawing at him. A hairline crack in the wall of his spite.

It was guilt.

Because Kyle was the one who dared Yoon Jihoon to spend a night in the Forbidden Zone. The dare had been a joke, one of those stupid schoolyard challenges meant to make you look tough in front of the guys. Go into that haunted club, Apophis, prove you’re a man.

No one who entered the Forbidden Zone came back. No one.

Except Jihoon.

Only… he wasn’t the same. Different face. Different voice. Different everything.

He didn't tell anyone he was not ok. Overnight, he went from bookworm to celebrity. How could anyone have guessed?

During the season opener, with half the school chanting his new nickname, Lathandro, the sun broke over the stadium roof. Jihoon’s skin ignited in the sick, blistering way meat flares in a microwave. By the time the fire was out, he was in a coma, wrapped in bandages, breathing through a ventilator.

Doctors muttered about “severe photothermal injury.” Rumors bloomed: black-market augments, DNA hacking, doping. No one could explain it.

But Kyle could.

Club Apophis.

And that was on him.

Just like his favorite heroes from Film Noir, he wasn’t the type to admit fault, ... self-reflection was for people with therapy budgets, so he framed it another way. Someone else had done this to Jihoon. Someone in the Zone. And that someone was going to pay.

That’s how Kyle Baek found himself standing at the rusting perimeter fence, staring into the gray murk of the Forbidden Zone.

Kyle had never been this close to the fence before.

Sure, he’d loitered near the bus stop a few blocks away, daring other idiots to go in, but that was different. You could still smell fried chicken from the corner stall out there. You could still hear people laughing.

Here, the air was still.

The chain-link perimeter stretched in both directions like it had no end, and the metal was eaten through in places by rust the color of dried blood. Government warning signs, a chaotic collage of BIOHAZARD, RADIATION, and NO TRESPASSING, were plastered over one another, all screaming the same message: Don't. Someone had spray-painted a crude skull over one of them, its grin melting down the corrugated steel.

No one actually crossed the line. No one sane. Unless something inside was already broken. 

Kyle felt the crack widen as he stepped closer.

Long hours as a campus security guard, supplementing his income, had taught him two things: how to stay awake when nothing was happening, and how to keep moving when too much was. Neither skill made stepping toward the Zone a good idea, but they made it easier.

The gap in the fence looked cut from the inside, as if whatever lived here had tried to escape.

He stood there a long moment, hands in his pockets, wind tugging at his jacket. It would have been smart to walk away. To head home, forget this place, pretend Jihoon’s face, what was left of it, didn’t come looking for him every time he shut his eyes.

Smart? Kyle had never been smart when it counted.

Instead, he told himself it was just another dare. Just another stunt to shut people up.

But there was no audience this time. No crowd waiting to see if he’d chicken out. Just the gap, the silence, and the gray beyond.

One step more, and there’d be no coming back.

Kyle smiled like a man about to do something very, very stupid.

Wooo woo. It's a new season for my ongoing story, and more coolness from this round of Midnight Order! 

From Graal is a fun, and interactive!, detective outfit. It comes with a hud to trigger drawing the gun and holstering it. I love that! There is also a pack of cigarettes for the pocket and a hanging pocket watch at the waist.   ....For extra Sylus-like strappy coolness, I added another layer of harness with the Fake Society Nate, and Gabriel leather bracer. ...From Mana are the eyes with no pupils, Jelly Eyes, dark and light eye whites, and several options to wear/apply the eyes.   ...From TRASH is the sinful Lucifer hair. Kyle is wearing the hair without the devil horns, but that is an option for each set. The horns are seamlessly shaped from the hair.   ...The setting is the brilliant Corrupted Chapel by LORE. This is such an awesome building. Beautiful outside and inside. And two options, normal and corrupted. Includes pews you can move around also. The corrupted version has red glow below the floor and thick vines growing through it. It reminded me of the Upside Down in Stranger Things. So naturally, I had to add the animesh Demadog to the scene from Vaal.   ...Also from LORE are the Confessional stalls. They have several wood texture options with door openings.

On him, Kyle Baek,

Outfit, gun: GRAAL Midnight Detective, legacyM [interactive][mesh](Midnight Order)(549L)

Hair: TRASH Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh](Midnight Order)(299L)

Eyes: Mana Jelly Eyes,  Clear [BOM] (Midnight Order)(399L)

Skin: MUDSKIN Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER(gacha)(The Arcade)(75L)

Glasses: SOLE SA, Glasses Penta CP, Black [mesh](339L)

Tentacles: Aii&Ego Forbidden Ritual Body Tentacles, M [Bento]

Bracer: Gabriel ::GB:: Leather Bracer, Legacy [mesh]

Harness: Fake Society Nate Harness, Black, LegacyM [mesh]

Shoes: Mazzaro Cicero Loafers, LegacyM [mesh](200L)

Gloves: Izzie's 03 Short Leather Gloves black [BOM]

Shine: [AURO] Ambrosian, Body FX Materials, legacy [applier]

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

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

Pose: momomuller / 3M [3M]_jump1_1 (gun pose added)

Setting:

Church, pews: LORE Corrupted Chapel [mesh](Midnight Order)(1500L)

Confessional: LORE Old Confessional [mesh](Midnight Order)(650L)

Dog: [vaak] Animesh Demadog [animesh](299L)

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

 

Midnight Order: Escape from Club Apophis, 10

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: A dense fog curled over the stadium like a digital filter gone rogue, muting color and casting everything in a washed-out grey.

Still, the crowds came.

Fans poured in from all sides, decked out in crimson Jae Won Dragons jerseys, reactive face paint, and pulsing halo banners. One projected a flickering “GO DRAGONS!” in bold red above a kid’s head. Another shimmered with a sarcastic thumbs-down emote, aimed squarely at the freak weather.

Overhead, news drones buzzed like flies drawn to prophecy.

Then Lisa Liemawr’s voice dropkicked the stadium speakers like a pop idol crash-landing onto the PA system.

“Don’t adjust your glasses. No, your optics aren’t glitching,” she purred. “It is seriously foggy out here! Like—OMG, who ordered the haunted mansion DLC for opening day? Someone cancel the séance and bring back the sun!”

Her laughter crackled like static glitter.

“But don’t panic. Your girl Lisa is locked in with a full drone squad, so you won’t miss a single steamy second of our cyber-prince, Lathandro, making his legendary baseball debut!”

She winked into the cam drone. “This is Hexa Herald Live, your #1 source for everything scandalous, cyber-beautiful, and definitely not school-sanctioned.”

A sharp burst of static.

Then a clipped male voice: “We apologize for the unauthorized transmission. For official coverage of the Jae Won Dragons Season Opener, please connect to the Jae Won Athletic Portal.”

Cut to Lisa, already halfway up a stairwell toward the upper deck, red hair swinging as her drone hovered behind. “Okay, okay. Maybe I wasn’t technically authorized to hijack the PA system. Boo, censorship!”

She gestured behind her at the looming glass skybox, carved like a luxury mausoleum into the stadium’s upper ring.

“That, my scandal-hungry sweets, is the brand new Obsidian Lounge. Gilded ceilings. Black-tinted views. Total donor drama. And I’m getting in.”

Cut to her crouched by the matte-black door, holding up a silver device.

“I know what you’re thinking. Lisa, isn’t this wildly illegal?”

Grin.

“Only if you get caught.”

Click. The door hissed open, icy air slipping out like breath from a crypt.

“Behold. Where megadonors sip nutrient wine... and pretend to care about sports.”

She steps inside. The drone follows, revealing sterile opulence: hover chairs without a crumb in sight, temp zones, anti-UV glass, mood lighting like a Bond villain’s spa.

“Bougie much?”

No chatter. No drinks. Just rows of blank black monitors. 

Lisa’s grin falters. She shivers, rubbing her arms. “Okay, exclusive tour complete. Time to bounce before they send security.”

She spun to leave, and froze.

Where there had been an open doorway, now a thick curling fog coiled inward, slow and deliberate, seeping across the polished marble like something alive.

Her Cam Bot whirred, zooming ahead, just before static fuzzed the lens.

The tall figure stepped from the fog like royalty arriving late on purpose. His heels clicked with absolute disdain. A cape of white trailed behind him like smoke. He paused on the marble threshold, lifted his gloved hand, and slid his sunglasses up just enough to hide the faint, unnatural glow beneath.

Lisa’s eyes widened. Her camera bot hovered uncertainly beside her, still streaming.

She forced her signature grin. “Okay, Dragonlets, plot twist! We have a surprise cameo from none other than Dr. Lucien Ginerva, founder of GIN AESTHETICA™, biotech visionary, and the megadonor behind this gorgeously extra Obsidian Lounge! Aaaand I definitely did not break in to get here.”

She gave a theatrical shrug, trying to keep it light. “So, what do you think, Doc? Worth the donation?”

MasterGin's smile was elegant and rehearsed, yet somehow colder than the fog curling around his boots. "Functional. Though the security is appallingly thin."

Her laugh flickered, high, hollow, and a little too loud. “Haha, classic rich-guy shade. Sooo... you here to catch your golden boy’s debut? Lathandro’s big moment?”

He turned slowly, savoring the question like a fine wine. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he purred. Then his smile thinned. “We need to speak privately.”

He pivoted with surgical grace, navy leather gloves catching the light, each fingertip tipped in gleaming gold. As he flexed his hand, a visible arc of electricity jumped claw to claw.

The first thing to die was Lisa’s cam drone.

Zzzt.... A snap of blue light. The drone spiraled and crashed in a plume of smoke.

Then he turned to her, claws still humming.

“You and your cheerleader accomplice should have stopped at fan merch,” he said smoothly. “But you profited off what doesn’t belong to you. You sold what I created: the face, the body, the name, the branding. Everything Lathandro is a registered trademark under GIN AESTHETICA™... right down to the perfectly placed mole on Yoon Jihoon’s ass.”

Lisa stepped back, posture faltering. “You can’t… you wouldn’t,” she said, her voice stretched taut behind the flicker of a falling grin. “Let’s make a deal. I’ve got reach. Influence. You want to control the narrative, right? I can help—”

“Enough. Your little puppet show’s over,” he said coldly. “My lawyers are en route to your apartment. Yes, where your real body sleeps behind a firewall that won’t hold.”

Her avatar twitched, lips flickering with a static stammer.

“I look forward to your prison stream, my dear. No filters, no enhancements. Just you, as you really are. A tragic downgrade.”

Zzzt.... Another flash of voltage.

Lisa’s avatar collapsed like a doll with cut strings, glassy eyes flickering once before going dark.

With a whiff of ozone and scorched plastic, MasterGin stepped past her crumpled body as if she were a steaming pile of refuse befouling his polished obsidian floor.

From behind the tinted windows, Lucien Ginerva raised his chrome-sight binoculars.

The thick fog gripped the stadium like white velvet steeped in rot, soft and suffocating, leaving just one immaculate sightline: Jihoon, alone in the dugout, head bowed.

He wasn’t wearing the high-tech gear personally designed for him. Not the UV-proof bodysuit laced with nanofibers. Not the smart boots. Not the reenforced carbon-fiber bat etched with the Lathandro™ brand.

Instead, Jihoon was with her, that grimy little machinist with a spinal column of schematics. She was touching his Lathandro, defiling those perfect cheekbones with drugstore sunscreen.

Gin’s grip tightened on the viewing rail. His rings creaked.

*I warned you, Little Worm… You don’t belong among them anymore. Daylight will crack your pretty dollface.*

Jihoon’s eyes immediately flew open and frantically searched the stands for The King Cobra.

From his lofty perch, the doctor stepped into the hazy daylight, his long white hair whipping like fire. In one hand: an ornate bottle rimmed in gold—an exact twin of the SPF 100 Nano-Serum he had sent Jihoon.

He flicked a gold claw. The bottle opened. Then, slow and deliberate, he poured its priceless contents across the ground. The serum hissed as it hit the warm concrete.

No smile. No parting glance. Just a turn, heels clicking into fog like a metronome counting down to tragedy.

Outside the skybox, he paused.

Above him, the stadium’s half-dome loomed, the curved jumbo screen flashing Jihoon’s face in slow motion as he stepped up to bat, smiling nervously at the crowd.

The fans chanted, “LATHANDRO! LATHANDRO!”

And by the time the King Cobra reached the garage, the fog had thinned. A black limousine idled. Diplomatic plates gleamed. Gold flags on the hood bore the crest: a snake swallowing the sun.

Just behind it, sleek, low, and quietly seething, hovered his personal car, penned in by the limo.

His eyes narrowed. 

This wasn’t a pickup. It was a leash.

The chauffeur stepped out: tall, faceless, chrome-masked, “The Ruler is expecting you. Your flight to America is waiting.”

MasterGin said nothing. His claws tapped once against each other. Then he turned, flung his cape over one shoulder like armor, and entered the waiting car with a haughty sneer.

The door hissed shut behind him like a blade into its sheath.

Through the rear window, the fog that cloaked the stadium began to dissolve, retreating like a fading shield.

The crowd roared. A bat cracked. Then a gut-wrenching screech cut through the air.

A terrible hush fell over the stadium.

Ambulances screamed past as the limo glided onto the elevated expressway. 

Enraged, MasterGin’s hand slammed the console. Mozart’s Requiem surged through the cabin, loud and relentless.

He sat rigid, every muscle locked tight as he fought the flood inside, -- the grief, the anger, the silent plea.

A single tear slipped down behind his dark sunglasses. Hot. Traitorous.

He wiped it away.

No one should ever see cracks in a perfectly sculpted mask.

For followers who made it this far in the ongoing Apophis series, thank you. This is an ending but with a strong option continue in a sequel. 

Midnight Order is going strong and this round there are several gothic themes not covered before, such as Kpop Demons and the Dark Ages! For this image, I focused on Elegant and Gold. MasterGin is wearing the OneDays Regalia Outfit gold fatpack. The cape comes separate. A single color version is 350L, You know I love me some fancy.   ...Speaking of fancy, check out the gorgeous ISHIKU Dionaea guided crystal drink and bootle set. I hope you can see from the picture how nice it is. Masterful textures and materials.  ...And it goes perfectly with the Eclectica- Gothic Bar Set. I love the arches on the wall and dresser display! The barstool includes several poses, the bar includes useful poses for the bartender including cutting limes, polishing glass, pouring wine, stacking glasses. It can Rez bar items like tap, port, wine, limes, and anyone can sit on bar to trigger items. Just touch the glass/bottle/barrel to get your drink.   ...My bartender for the image is the Whats Lost Spirits TV MAN. His face inside the tv is an aniamated eye. It's mod so I gave him a slight gold tint. to make it fit with slightly cyber theme instead of retro, I hid his rabbit ears antennas. He is a very fun sculpture!   ... {anc} always excells at elegance and mood. The panel lamp stands are more soft winners that can add a dreamy polish to a room.   .... From Random Matter is the Stargazer [Part II], part of a themed set. You can find other items in the at thier booth in Midnight Order.  ... From CABALPIER is the elegantly twisted Forgotten Birdcage. I included a 2nd image below so you can see the poor bird who didn't make it.

On him, MasterGin:

Outfit, cape: Onedays Nightborn Regalia Outfit gold fatpack, Athletic [mesh](Midnight Order)(1500L)

Bottle, glass: ISHIKU Dionaea Guilded Crystal Set[mesh](Midnight Order)(470L)

Hair: Ginko Hair #97 Hair - Rigged, Male [mesh]

Gloves: CURELESS[+] Nepenthes Glove L / LEGACY M[mesh]

Cigarette holder: GRAAL SMOKING SNAKE [mesh](349L)

Glasses: Kumaki Glasses K_gs Kasha_R2 [mesh]

Eyes: S0NG Vampy, Old Ice Eye [BOM]

Skin: Skin Arcana Maverick, FAIR [BOM]

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

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

Pose: ZZANG Strength 002 (edited in firestorm)

Setting:

Bar: Eclectica Gothic Bar set [mesh](Midnight Order)(550L)

Globe: Random Matter Stargazer [Part II] Globe, Gold [mesh](Midnight Order)(125L)

Lamps: {anc} panel lamp stand 2Li (amber) [mesh](Midnight Order)(269L)

Birdcage: CABALPIER Forgotten Birdcage <PBR>  [mesh](Midnight Order)(345L)

Bartender: Whats Lost Spirits WLS - TV MAN  [mesh]

PBR Walls, Floor: Erfe Design Medusa Floor PBR Material [PBR]

Skybox: CANARUN Rock/Concrete Loft Skybox [mesh]

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

Androgyny Event: Escape from Club Apophis, 8

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: In a sanctum buried beneath the neon veins of New Seoul, Dr. Lucien Ginerva reclined like a bored demigod on a hovering chaise. His clothing, if one dared call it that, was little more than suggestion. A silk slip clung carelessly to bone-pale skin; a fur wrap threatened to slither off one narrow shoulder. His legs, crossed and gleaming, ended in stilettos sharp enough to draw blood.

Around him, floating screens flickered and pulsed, casting warped shadows across the cathedral of vanity he ruled. Scattered below his heels were piles of glimmering flex-glass dossiers, stacked like offerings at some grotesque altar. Each one bore the idealized face of a desperate hopeful: socialites craving eternal youth, influencers pleading for patented jawlines, CEOs requesting “predator eyes” for boardroom intimidation. Their holographic portraits shimmered faintly in the gloom.

Unread. Uncared for.

“Cancel them all,” he said, voice like poison poured through a crystal flute.

A delicate chime answered. “But MasterGin, tomorrow is your touch-up session with the American president.”

Gin’s pale, glossed lips barely moved. “Tell him I am otherwise engaged. An emergency of the highest aesthetic priority.”

“Sir,” the AI persisted, clipped and clinical, “He has waited five years. Protocol—”

“Then tell that spineless little statesman to pack a bib and a bucket,” Gin snapped, silk slithering as he leaned forward. “Because if he dares complain, I’ll melt his face off live during his precious State of the Union address.”

The AI hesitated, beeped in protest—then fell silent. Calendars shimmered, appointments evaporating as if scrubbed by invisible hands.

“Good,” MasterGin purred. “I don’t want to look at that hideous old fart anymore.”

The AI, ever rational, replied: “But sir, you are 2,281 years older than—”

A hidden button clicked beneath Gin’s long finger. The AI’s voice died mid-sentence.

Silence fell. A faint trace of clove cigarette curled through the air.

With a sigh, MasterGin reclined once more. His eyes slid toward the mirror.

“It’s showtime, Little Worm.”

His clawed fingers danced across the chaise's sleek interface. A screen blinked alive with liquid ripples as the system connected.

LOGIN: EVILQUEEN
PASSWORD: poisonedapple

The image stabilized. Jihoon’s dorm came into view.

The student stood alone in his dorm, wearing one of the latest deliveries: haute couture lingerie, designed to seduce. The fabric clung to him like a whisper, sinfully tailored, cruelly perfect. He moved awkwardly at first, guilty and confused, then slowly began to pose. One hand rose to the curve of his neck. His other hand, hesitating, hovered near his cheek. A flush crept up under his skin, darkening the angry red burn Minjo had left there, a bruise of guilt made visible. He tilted his chin. Bent a knee. Swayed a hip… exactly as MasterGin had on the red carpet.

And in that moment, something ancient smiled back from the mirror, as if it approved.

A low, pleased rumble stirred in MasterGin’s chest, like a king cobra purring.

“Oh, you delicious copycat,” he cooed, reclining on his chaise like a fallen god. “I didn’t even train you yet.”

He raised a flute of something red and unholy, toasting the mirror feed.

“I think it’s time for some positive reinforcement.”

Beside him, the white snakeskin box pulsed faintly, clinical and elegant, echoing the flicker of black snakeskin box Jihoon’s dorm. The signal link was alive and strong.

MasterGin tapped the screen to zoom in, eager to savor Jihoon’s expression as he pulled the new items from the box: a sleek skincare kit and a pale bottle labeled with shimmering text. SPF 100 Nano Enhanced Sunscreen. As Jihoon read the notecard tucked inside, confusion bloomed on his face.

“Nice sunburn, Little Worm.”

MasterGin roared with laughter, teeth flashing too sharp in the surveillance gloom.

“You’re welcome!” he cried across dimensions. “Mommy takes good care of her special baby.”

But his joy was short-lived.

From offscreen came the crash of the dorm door bursting open.

Jihoon spun in alarm, face flushing so hard the burn scar on his cheek darkened. He snatched up a bedsheet and clutched it to his chest, stumbling backward like a cornered animal.

Gin lurched forward in his chair, claws clicking over glass as he scrambled to reposition the surveillance feeds. The cameras pivoted with mechanical whines, zeroing in on the chaos.

“Temu Scully,” he snarled. “Don’t you know how to knock, bitch?”

Minjo stalked into view, eyes lit with fury, a crude homemade scanner already glowing in her hand. “You were going to hide this from me,” she said, her voice cold and sharp. “Where did this designer trash even come from, Jihoon?”

Her gaze swept the room with surgical precision. Jihoon babbled a string of excuses, half denial, half panic, as he backed away from her, feet tangled in the bedsheet.

Minjo ignored him entirely. Her scanner ticked like a Geiger counter as she moved with a predator’s focus. And then it shrieked. A full spike of interference, as if it had struck raw data. A cloaked signal detected.

She looked up.

Locked eyes with the mirror.

Across the glass, faint serpentine runes flickered, slithering like molten silver just beginning to boil.

“Wait,” Gin barked, straightening in alarm.

But Minjo was already moving fast.

She sprinted toward the mirror, arm raised.

The feed convulsed.

Then static.

Transmission severed.

“NO!”

MasterGin hurled his drink at the screen. The crystal exploded in a flash of sparks and smoke. Gin collapsed back into his throne, face twisted with rage, strangling a crushed velvet pillow like it owed him an apology.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the surveillance chamber.

The velvet pillow slipped from Gin’s fingers. His breathing slowed, caught between a growl and a gasp.

Not quiet. Dead. As if sound had been vacuumed out of the space, along with the air. The cyan glow from his chaise lounge sputtered, dimming like a dying ember.

Then came the hum.

Low. Inhuman.

It rolled through the walls like a slow avalanche, vibrating the glass, the screens, the bones of the room itself.

Gin turned slowly as the air turned cold.

Every surface in the surveillance chamber went completely black.

Then one monitor, dead just moments ago, flared to life.

A silhouette emerged. Towering. Cloaked in something darker than shadow, plated in ancient battle-armor that shimmered like wet obsidian.

The Ruler of the Night.

His gold eyes glowed like hellfire. Unblinking. Locked directly on Gin.

MasterGin’s breath hitched. He immediately averted his gaze, dropped to his knees, and bowed deeply.

“Caught me again, Darling?” he said with a trembling smirk. “Naked ambition. Always such a hazard in my line of work.”

All around him, the mirrored glass began to crack.

And that was when he knew, he was in very big trouble.

Androgyny Event is the inspiration for this whole series, and MasterGin himself is my top model for androgyny. So naturally, I took some time on for this reveal for him, I hope you enjoyed it!

From this round of AE, is the Starlit Endeavor Optica Catwalk glasses. They come with an interactive hud with 20 texture options for different sections of the glasses, and even 3 pose/glasses placement options: worn, hanging from shirt, and held. The glasses are mod, so I change their change to be less round to better fit Gin's style.   ....The Slay Plague claws are a must have if you ask me. They have a more animalistic sharpness to them than most nails. Love it. Legacy Famle, male, and Reborn fits with more options to come.  ....The scandalous Mordessa dress and boa are by YUEBIN. It comes with a rich set of fits. Dress for: Anatomy Male, Belleza Jake, Ebody and v-tech, LaraX, Legacy Female and v-tech, Legacy Male and Athletic, Perky, Petite X, Waifus. Plus male and female pantie options for all too.   ...The smokey glitter eyeshadow is BOM layer from Super Bomb and comes with 11 colors.   ...From Sintiklia is the Jules hair with fits for men and women. And I added a long strand of bangs from Ginko Hair #189.   ...The appropriately themed Smoking Snake cigarette holder by GRAAL is wonderful touch.   ...And finishing MasterGin's look are the sleek stylish Millicent boots by Cult which include male fits.   ...The Setting is built from pieces by Apple Fall, Backbone, Kazza, and Pitya. I changed the look to a more sleep cyberpunk style of several items using PBR materials.   ...One more thing of interest to share, the new Firestorm update includes, built in native, the best 3D figure poser hud I have ever used. I'm dying from the coolness! It's a dream come true. Thank you Firestorm Team. 

On him, The King Cobra:
Glasses: Starlit Endeavor Optica Catwalk Glasses [mesh](Androgyny Event)(900L)

Claws: Slay Plague Claws, Legacy Male/Athletic [mesh](Androgyny Event)(275L)

Makeup: Sugar Bomb Neutral Smoke - Soot [BOM](Androgyny Event)(399L)

Dress, panties: YUEBIN Mordessa,  Legacy Athletic, white [mesh](299L)

Boa: YUEBIN Mordessa,  Legacy Athletic, white [mesh](299L)

Hair: Sintiklia Jules Fitted M, black and brown [mesh](350L)

Hair bangs: Ginko Hair #189 Hair, Strands1, Unrigged [mesh](465L)

Boots: CULT Millicent - Legacy Male [mesh](369L)

Cigarette holder: GRAAL SMOKING SNAKE [mesh](349L)

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

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

Pose: FOXCITY Lazy-4, (with custom edits in Firestorm poser)

Setting:

Chaise: Apple Fall Ram Chaise (with white leather PBR) [mesh]

Montors: BackBone Lazy Gamer's Hideout - Desk, black [mesh](1209L)

Sheet: KAZZA BytheSeaCouch3 - couch (with white silk PBR) [mesh](555L)

HUD screens: Pitaya Cyber Interface - Color [mesh](208L)

PBR Walls: kyoobo Metallic Hexagon Tiles (PBR)(79L)

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots, hi-res, midday sky. (Note: Female panty option shown)