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:

Salvage Station: The Underworld (Escape from Club Apophis, 27)

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STORYLINE: They were trapped. Trapped in the pitch-black catacombs beneath the Forbidden Zone, with a creature that shouldn't exist. It had slipped through the sewer grate above, a thing of tattered cloth, scraping metal, and impossible, hungry light. The team had followed the Saja's rule, don't move, don't look. But it was too late. The Sister was in the tunnel with them, and it could smell their fear.

The swirling vortex of its face flared, searching the dark, hungry and close, vibrating the stone like a cracking bone.

Echo pressed her back to the tunnel wall, her breath hitching. Don’t look. Don’t look. She bit her lip. One sharp sting. One copper-scented drop. The air seemed to gasp in reply, as if the tunnel itself could smell it. The Nun’s head snapped toward her. It could smell the blood. It lunged.

Echo flinched. She looked up and screamed. 

The Nun's face spit open like a cursed flower. A burst of light shot out of it, locking onto Echo's eyes. It was going to feed.

“NO!”

Ghost moved, a black-clad blur. He lunged past Echo, knife flashing, a perfect, lethal thrust aimed at the creature’s center mass. The blade went through. Hit nothing. No body, no bone, just empty robes and a sudden, violent chill that flash-froze his glove. 

The Nun, a thing of cloth and hungry void, swatted him aside like a fly. 

Ghost slammed into the wall. The small hand-crank generator on his belt dug into his hip.

The generator.

The Nun loomed over Echo, its vortex spinning faster, drawing her in.

Ghost didn't have time. He ripped the generator free and, with a snarl, wound the handle once.

A loud, grinding GGRRIIIND shrieked through the tunnel, obscenely loud, vibrating with raw, stupid power.

The Nun reared back. It shrieked, a sound of conflict, torn between the smell of fresh blood and the taste of pure, crackling energy.

Ghost made the choice for it. He hurled the generator with all his strength down the opposite tunnel. "GO!" he signed in the air, a useless, frantic gesture in the dark. 

The generator clattered against stone, its tiny light flickering. 

The Nun forgot Echo. It forgot them all. With a final, ravenous howl, it chased the power, tattered cloth and shadow vanishing into the black. 

Silence collapsed around them, broken only by Echo’s hyperventilating sobs.

Hwan’s voice cut through, cold and urgent. 

"Get up. Form a chain. Hold on. Do not let go. And run."

They scrambled in total darkness, a chaos of limbs, boots, and breath.

“I can’t see!” Plague yelled.

“No one can!” Minjo shouted back.

Ghost ignored the chain. He scooped up the trembling Echo and took the rear, covering their escape.

They ran blind, a stumbling mess through the darkness.

Minjo's foot caught on a loose stone, and she went down hard, breaking the chain.

"Minjo!" Plague stopped short. “I got you!”

He fumbled in the black, reaching. His hand landed on....

"Minjo, I'm so sor—"

SMACK.

"Just get off me!" she hissed.

“Okay, okay!” He grabbed again, wrong again.

“Plague,” Minjo said, voice lethal. “That is not my arm.”

"FINE!" Plague dropped to all fours. "Piggyback. Now! Let's go!"

Minjo, swallowing her pride, scrambled onto his back.

“RUN!” Hwan’s voice echoed ahead.

They raced deeper, lower. Then, the air changed. Cold stone gave way to a warm, humid sweetness that clung to their tongues.

They burst into a cavern. And it wasn’t dark. It glowed.

A vast, impossible garden sprawled before them, phosphorescent fungi rising like pillars, glowing moss draped from stalactites like drowned willows, and long gelatinous tendrils hanging from the ceiling, pulsing faintly with internal light. A cracked bioreactor tank sat half-buried in the cavern floor. Its shattered glass leaked viscous cyan fluid that streamed into the soil, feeding the luminous vegetation. The entire chamber hummed softly, like the heartbeat of something enormous sleeping under the earth. The air shimmered with drifting spores, each one pulsing like a tiny glowing seed.

“Is this… the surface?” Echo whispered.

“No,” Hwan said. He stood by a rusted miner’s railway, his face pale. “Do not stop,” he ordered. “Do not touch anything. This is MasterGin’s garden. His… nursery.”

“Nursery?” Plague panted, legs burning under Minjo’s weight.

“For parasites,” Hwan said. “We saved a man from here once. When we pulled him out...," his breath caught, “…he looked like a jellyfish shaped like a man.” He swallowed. “He was still screaming.”

SPLASH.

The surface of the leakage pool broke.

Something rose from the neon sludge. It was translucent, dripping, and pulsing with soft, sickly light. It looked like a man, but the skin was a clear membrane, revealing organs that floated in gel and bones that had softened into cartilage.

It had no face, only a vibrating film where a mouth should be.

“Oh god,” Plague choked out.

The Jellyfish Man shrieked, a wet, gurgling sound and lunged. A whip-fast tentacle of dissolving flesh lashed out toward Minjo.

“Move!”

Hwan stepped in front of them. He didn't raise a shield. He raised the hammer. Vanilla. The worn mallet he'd carried as the Ice Cream Man.

But as he swung, the air warped.

The metal underneath groaned and expanded, thickening into a massive, rough-hewn block of pale granite. The handle twisted, wood becoming thick, rusted rebar wrapped in leather.

It wasn't a tool anymore. It was a boulder on a stick. An ancient weapon of the earth.

CRACK-BOOM.

Hwan slammed the massive stone club into the creature’s chest.

The impact was seismic. The Jellyfish Man didn't just fly backward, it became a projectile. It slammed into the cavern wall with such force that the rock face splintered. Dust rained down. The entire cavern shook.

Hwan hefted the stone hammer onto his shoulder. It had to weigh three hundred pounds, but he held it like a toy. He looked back at the students, his eyes burning with feral amber light. But that was not the only shocking thing, Hwan appeared to have transformed too.

“What are you staring at?” Hwan growled. “Run!”

They wasted no time plunging back into darkness, up the long winding staircase carved into rock—endless, spiraling, scraping the breath from their lungs toward whatever they prayed was an exit.

They hit a wall. A dead end: a smooth stone chamber with no outlets. The sound of their breathless pants felt loud in the small space.

“Hwan, where...?”

SWISH. THUD.

A heavy stone door slid shut behind them, sealing the stairs.

"We're trapped!" Plague yelled, pounding on the stone.

“No,” Hwan said. His voice no longer echoed; it was unnervingly close.

He stood in the dim light at center of the chamber, leaning on the massive stone hammer.

“You’re trapped,” Hwan corrected.

He lifted the hammer one last time, and swung upward, driving the stone head into the ceiling with a deafening, rhythmic clang.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

And then, ...light exploded, and he was gone in a burst of gold.

They were alone, ears ringing, in the dark, betrayed.

“Of course he teleported!” Plague roared, kicking the wall. “The snake! The shady Saja! We’re dead! We are so, so dead!”

"No," Echo rubbed her arms as she shivered. ”I don't think he's a Saja.”

SCRRRAPE.

A noise from above. A slice of light cut down as a metal hatch squealed open, painfully bright. A silhouette leaned over the edge.

“Well, well, well. Looks like the Nerd Rescue Party needed rescuing. What I wouldn’t give to take a picture of your faces right now.”

“Lisa?” Echo whispered, shielding her eyes against the glare.

Another voice joined, bright and incredulous. “Are you guys okay?”

… Kyra.

Then a final shadow stepped into view. Kyle Baek tossed a rope ladder down; the rungs hit the stone floor with a clatter. His voice was deep, bitter, hollow.

“Welcome, fellow livestock,” he said. “To the Pen.”

On him, Hwan:

Tattoo clothes: Nefekalum - Salvaged Armor - Rusted 07 [BOM](Salvage Station)(199L)
Skin: Fallen Gods - Radioactive [xy]+FGInc.+ Uranium [BOM](Salvage Station)(743L)

Hammer: Arts&Gear - *AG* (PBR)StoneHammer [mesh](Salvage Station)(200L)

Sleeves: REBIS - Junkyard Sleeves . LegacyM, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Boots: Web Dew - WD Boots Daniel - Legacy Athletic, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)

Shorts: [LOB] OKLAND SHORT - BLACK [mesh]
Briefs: UKYAH - Lalotex Briefs (Legacy Athletic) [mesh]
Hair: Ginko Hair - #97 Hair - Rigged(Male/L) [mesh]
Hair: Air Kazura A01_Tail white [mesh](200L)
Hands: {Aii} Demonic Touch - bom/all parts, Legacy M [mesh](800L)

Tattoo: LeLUTKA - Freckles.004 [BOM]
Tattoo: HISS - PATTERNS BODY 2 - FADING TINT [BOM]
Eyes: {Rue} - Eyes/Grimalkin: Saffron [BOM]
Head: BeSpoke - Oni Jube [mesh]

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

Setting:

Railway tunnel: Red Shadow - RS-Decadent Road [mesh](Salvage Station)

Jellyfish: {anc} - Abyssal Jellyfish 2Li (allcolor) [mesh](Salvage Station)(239L)

Wall, pose: Arts&Gear - *AG* Stone Cracked Wall [mesh](Salvage Station)(210L)

Mushrooms: Dysfunctionality - [DDD] Giant Mushrooms [mesh]

Mushrooms: CONSTRUCT - Glitter Mushroom [mesh]

Glow worms: LOVE - CAVE GLOW WORM [mesh]

Set: Fanatik - Architecture: Lake Chamber [mesh](500L)

On Him, The JellyFish Man:

Skeleton: [ jintaiya ] - High-Performance Deluxe Skeleton AvatarSkeleton [mesh](1800L)

Glitter: E.V.E - Rapunzel Suit Glitter [BELLEZA-M] V.3.3 [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.  JellyFish Man at midnight.

 

Midnight Order: Escape from Club Apophis, 10

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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)

Engine Room: Murder at the Cabaret, 4

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: The velvet shadows of Le Rouge Noir clung to him like a lover’s perfume: thick, intoxicating, and sweet with secrets. Darius Laurent slipped through the staff entrance like he owned the place, his polished shoes making no sound against the timeworn boards. A single ghost light flickered center stage, casting long shadows that danced like phantoms through the corridor. 

He looked every inch the well-traveled shipping magnate: his suit, jet-black and tailored to a predatory elegance; his silk shirt glimmered with a subtle damask pattern, black on black. Gold glinted from his cufflinks, his buttons, the chain at his waist. Refined. Respected. Feared by those who knew better. 

His cane tapped rhythmically with each step, the weight of its hidden blade familiar in his grasp. The golden mechanical arms affixed to his shoulders gleamed faintly under the gas lamps. They were beautiful, sculpted, baroque, but merciless. Artifacts of precision and pain. They made him strong again, after she had taken everything. 

He passed by the dressing rooms, inhaling the scent of powder, sweat, and something sweeter still. 

Gardenia. 

His pulse quickened. A smile curled his lips. 

Gardenia, lush and overpowering, was the perfect scent for masking other smells. Cyanide, for instance. 

Lady Dupree was the new star now. Her name shone on the marquee in blaring letters. The one everyone whispered about, not that other girl. He hadn’t meant to kill Giselle, -- she was merely in the wrong spotlight at the wrong time. Dupree was the prize. Dupree reminded him of *her.* 

Lady DuBois. 

The one who fought back. He’d taken her vision first before she could see his face. Even blinded, she had clawed and screamed and bled him nearly to death. He bore her legacy still: a single eye beneath a gold-rimmed patch, and two ruined arms, now replaced with gilded horrors. 

He slipped deeper into the backstage halls. 

Then voices. 

“Have you found your killer?” asked a voice. 

Darius froze, just beyond the heavy curtain separating backstage from the dressing rooms. 

A woman’s voice answered, low and sure. “Yes. Darius Laurent.” 

His breath caught. What? 

Was this a rehearsal? A new play? 

“I followed a detective from out town investigating the Cabaret Killer,” the voice continued. “My perfume, it was poisoned.” 

His jaw tensed. He leaned closer, peering through the seam in the curtain. The Master of Ceremonies stood alone, painted face impassive, speaking to thin air. 

Madness? Or theater? 

“… and other girls from clubs like this. Always in strange, untraceable ways…” 

Darius’s stomach twisted. Was this some joke? Some twisted reckoning? 

No. No, not tonight. 

He turned away. He needed focus. He needed her. 

Lady Dupree’s dressing room waited at the end of the corridor with the door cracked like a temptation. 

He pushed it open. 

She was waiting for him. Her eyes widened, not in surprise, but in recognition. 

“You,” she said. 

She pulled the trigger. 

The gunshot punched into his arm. His mechanical limb flared with sparks, gears shrieking. He roared, half in pain, half in triumph. He was not mistaken! He didn’t know how it was possible, and he didn’t care. His Lady of the past and this male counterfeit “Lady” were the same. One never forgets their first kill, even if they look different now.

He lunged. 

The blade hissed from his cane. Steel met air. A gunshot missed. They crashed into shattered mirrors, through silk costumes and broken powder compacts. Their reflections fractured and warped in glass and memory. 

“You should have stayed dead,” he growled. 

“Should’ve killed you the first time,” Dupree spat. 

“Stop this!” another voice cried. “I accept the deal!” 

He turned.

And saw the Master of Ceremonies at the threshold, arms folded behind his back like some wicked butler. 

And behind him… 

Darius’s blood turned to ice. 

It was not a man. Not a ghost. A thing. Cloaked in decay, made of shadow and gore. Its face was not a face at all, and it’s tendrils of darkness wrapped around the MC’s limbs like the strings of a marionette. 

He stumbled, suddenly winded. Cold. Something was wrong. 

“What?” he gasped, looking down. 

His mechanical hand trembled. His legs buckled. His chest constricted like hands closing around his ribs. 

Something was inside him. 

A presence. 

A voice. Inside his skull. A breath that wasn’t his. 

“With my second life, I shall use it to have my revenge,” said Giselle. 

He howled, but no one heard. 

He tried to run, but couldn’t move. 

Then Dupree’s scream tore through the air. A scream drenched in a decade of suffering. 

She drove the his own blade into his heart. 

Agony bloomed white-hot. He felt the mechanics seize. The world froze. 

And then… 

Nothing. 

Not even darkness....

BOOM! How was that? Spooky! hahaha. There's an epilogue too with what happens to the girls, the MC, and even the pirates but maybe it's ok to stop there? I got a little carried away. lol. 

 ... Engine Room is ending this weekend. Don't miss all the cool items and gifts too! I included a few in this post. ...This image and story was inspired by a crazy banger of a song I found while brainstorming this series, This Way to the Egress by Saint (see link below). ...Darius's outfit is an amazing detailed outfit by JEYS with metal details for tie, fob, brooches, tie, straps, and spider-like metal arms. The textures are fantastic. ...The doll is an Animesh wearable pet TikTok Man by Whats Lost Spirits. (You can also rez it.) Touch the TikTok man to bring up a menu with many animations you can trigger, including dances.   ... The staff is a gift by Dirty Rat, part of the display for the Plague Doctor display case. It includes several hold poses.  ....The eyepatch by GRAAL is another brilliant gift at the event. It unrigged so you can adjust it to fit.    .... Darius's skin is the Maverick by Skin Arcana. I found it works great on more current Lelukta mesh heads like Camden. It comes with and without brows, and tones to match Velour  picasso body colors.   ...Have I used the Hellbourne Thaumaturgy eyes enough? I love them. That's why! I couldn't show it, but they include an animated lens that fits ontop of the eye  ...The #200 hair is another great style by Ginko that works great on both men and women. ...In the background, setting the tone of secret society is The Last Throne by Ionic. Its theme is well suited for Game of Thrones role-plays with House Banners and a stone throne you can buy separately.

On him, Darius Laurent:

Skin: Skin Arcana Maverick, Peach, Evox [BOM](Engine Room)(450L)
Suit: JEYS Ventus, MSuit A, Legacy M[mesh](Engine Room)(299L)

Shirt: JEYS Ventus, shirt, Legacy M [mesh](Engine Room)(299L)
Pant: JEYS Ventus, pants Legacy M [mesh](Engine Room)(299L)  
Hands: JEYS Ventus, Ironhand, Legacy M [mesh](Engine Room)(299L)
Staff, pose: Dirty Rat Plaque Staff [mesh](Engine Room)(gift)

Eyepatch: GRAAL STORE Revolver Eyepatch, unrigged [mesh](Engine Room)(gift)

Eyes: Hellbourne :H: Thaumaturgy Eyes, White [mesh](Engine Room)(275L)

Hair: Ginko Hair #200 Hair - Unrigged [mesh](520L)

Head, beard: LeLUTKA CAMDEN Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Pose: Del May DM Yo-yo

Setting:

Doll: Whats Lost Spirits WLS TICTOK MAN 4.0 [Animesh](Engine Room)(700L)

Set: ionic : The Last Throne, 95li [mesh](Engine Room)(1250L)

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

Engine Room: Murder at the Cabaret, 2

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Giselle hovered above her own body, limbs sprawled across the dressing room floor like a broken marionette. A single black feather from her headpiece drifted down, catching in a pool of spilled perfume, while downstairs, Le Rouge Noir pulsed on with its gilded glamor and champagne lies, unmoved by her absence. Now a ghost, translucent and shimmering in the haze of cigarette smoke, Giselle watched *her.*

Lady Dupree. 

That woman.... No, that *man* in disguise, her nemesis in satin gloves and fake eyelashes. They had fought for everything: applause, attention, the gold-ringed fingers of rich fools in velvet booths. The very name curled on Giselle’s ghostly tongue like bitter wine. That man, that fraud, had been her competition for nearly a decade. Always twirling in finer silks, always stealing glances from sugar daddies too drunk to care that “The Lady" was no lady at all. Every flirt, every wink, every applause had felt like a dagger between Giselle’s ribs.

So it made sense, didn’t it? That *he* would be the one to slip something in her drink. That *he* would finally outdo her... permanently.

But now… 

Now Lady Dupree was slumped over her cooling body, weeping into a handkerchief soaked in stage powder and tears, black eyeliner dripping like ink down her porcelain-painted cheeks. Her impeccable glamor crumbled. Her cries were raw, gasping. Not for attention. Not for performance. Dupree was clutching a tiny secret treasure, a locket with Giselle’s picture inside. 

Suddenly, her ghostly heart was snagged by something unexpected, -- guilt. 

She’s faking it, Giselle thought. She has to be. 

And yet, no one else wept. Not the dancers in their feathers and fake diamonds. Not the barkeep polishing glasses like souls weren’t slipping through the cracks. Not even René, the club owner with a heart made of debts and cigars. He’d only looked at the body once, grunted, and barked orders. 

“Put Lady onstage,” he said with all the empathy of a cash register. “She’s on in five.”

Even as The Lady clutched the hem of her sequined corset, begging for mercy, the stagehands dragged her into the wings. The spotlight did not wait for grief. 

Giselle shivered though no cold could touch her now, the club roared with drunken laughter, the clink of glasses, the soft growl of a jazz saxophone. The Master of Ceremony’s sinister voice echoed in her head: 

"Three days, darling, to find who ended your curtain call."

She glanced down where her body had fallen and back at Dupree, now center stage beneath the cruel glare of gold. Her sobs had quieted. Her eyes were empty, her makeup smeared.

The band began to play the music of what had been Giselle's act as if her death wasn’t a tragedy, just a messy inconvenience. 

Wow this was a complex challenge, I hope you all liked it. Lady Dupress was inspired by the Red Wine Burlesque set that includes fits for men. The bustle comes in rigged or unrigged, and the textures include many cool PBR textures including sequins.   ...The Lady's stage persona includes elements of both the bride and groom with the Stovepipe Hat and Wedding Veil by Grasshopper ST. Both come with texture huds. The Wedding Veil also comes with linked rigged or individual veils and individual unrigged options. Lace can be blend or mask ... The loose pulled back hairstyle into a braid is by Ginko Hair for girls and guys. (I love the white to black texture!)  ...And another win for fashionable gents and gals are the Pendle Boots by Seydr. There a several texture hud styles stuffed with color and lace options.  ...I combined the choker of Red Wine with the Random Matter's teardrop Xavia choker. It's unrigged and has texture options. ...The soulful eyes are Kairos Eyes by Mana with cat pupil and nice little glints.   ...The stage makeup Georgiana is by Eyecing. It includes several separate or combined makeup layers for white face paint, rouge, and moles in several key places.  Matching the damask pattern of the Red Wine corset are the BOM gloves by Miamai and stocking by Violent Seduction.  ...This stunning club setting is The Night Car Backdrop by FNY Designs, and Moon swing and poses by Fox City.

On her, Lady Dupree:

Outfit: MILKBATH Red Wine Burlesque, full set [mesh](Engine Room)(1200L)

Hair: Ginko Hair #189 Hair, Rigged, male [mesh](Engine Room)(465L)
Shoes: Seydr Pendle Boots, Legacy M [mesh](Engine Room)(750L) 
Hat: Grasshopper ST GHS Stovepipe Hat [mesh](Engine Room)(263L) 
Veil: Grasshopper ST GHS Wedding Veil [mesh](Engine Room)(300L) 

Necklace: Random Matter Xavia Choker [mesh](Engine Room)(200L)  

Eyes: Mana Kairos Eyes, Clear, 15 [BOM](Engine Room)(399L) 
Makeup: Eyecing Georgiana, fatpack  [BOM](Engine Room)(75L) 

Cane: Deadwool Goat cane - v1 [mesh](group gift)
Underwear: NOCHE. Latex Ayo Jockstrap, Legacy [mesh](249L)

Gloves: Miamai Latex Gloves_Black  [BOM] (220L)
Stockings: Violent Seduction Psyche Stockings, Black [BOM] 
Makeup: K R E E P Roaring 20s, EvoX [BOM](1L)

Makeup: SAXO Bleeding Eyes lel EVOX Unisex, tintable gift [BOM](1L)

Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:

Moonswing, pose: FOXCITY Crescent Moon, with poses, Gold [mesh](370L)
Set FNY Designs The Night Car Backdrop [mesh](999L)

BONUS IMAGE: inworld raw shot, midday sky. 

BONUS CLOSEUP: edit only for hat shadow & background.