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

(click to enlarge)

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/Camp Syndicate: So Hungry (Escape from Club Apophis, 60)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: “Hungry... So hungry…”

The voice pulsed in Kyle’s head like a corrupted audio loop that refused to die.

He panted, crouching low as he dragged Jihoon through the narrow, suffocating crawlspace. Jihoon was far heavier than he looked. All dense muscle and dead weight. And Kyle was rapidly losing patience. Crawling through the damp, reeking depths of the Forbidden Zone was bad enough, but doing it while hauling a comatose body was pure hell.

To make matters worse, their only source of light was the old, gutted television strapped to Jihoon’s head like a makeshift helmet. The damn thing flickered to life whenever it touched Jihoon’s skin, projecting a pale violet static down the muddy tunnel.

Jihoon. Comatose. Haunter of old televisions.

Just another cursed day in the Zone.

Up ahead, their guide, a massive, scaly beast known as the Shadow Serpent, slithered effortlessly through the dark, completely ignoring Kyle’s struggle. Low fog swallowed Kyle’s boots. Overhead, copper pipes dripped with a maddening rhythm.

A startled bat squeaked, its leathery wing brushing Kyle’s cheek. He jumped, jerking upward only to slam his head straight into the ceiling pipes. The metallic clang echoed down the length of empty tunnel.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered, "That had better have been a flying rat and nothing else."

He dropped to his knees to catch his breath, easing Jihoon onto the mud. A second later, a dull thump echoed back from the dark.

Kyle froze. Echoes were supposed to fade, not boomerang back.

The television screen flickered and slowly died.

Total pitch darkness.

The Serpent was lurking nearby. The strange beast took many forms. Sometimes pure energy, sometimes a shadow. But right now, as it led them, it was corporeal. He heard the heavy rasp of scales sliding against scales. And when its rattle tipped tail brushed his hand, it felt icy and slippery.

Kyle dug through his backpack until his fingers found an entropy-powered battery light. It turned on with a heavy, satisfying click. Violet light flooded the narrow space. Finally, he could see where he was. Or at least, he could if there wasn’t a wall of undulating obsidian scales blocking most of his view.

The ground trembled. A cold draft rushed through the passage, carrying the smell of wet stone.

The Serpent suddenly hissed, its massive coils tightening into a defensive knot. Its head swung forward, then whipped back toward the way they had come.

“I told you Snakepoo,” Kyle grumbled. “Not the best route. Now we’re too far to go back, the hell if I know how much further ahead we have to go.”

The Serpent turned its massive head, giving him a look that somehow resembled a sheepish shrug.

"Right. Physical dead-ends aren't something a Shadow Serpent thinks about when picking a path."

Snakepoo suddenly looked up and flicked its tongue.

A deep concussion rolled through the tunnel walls, followed by the distant screech of tearing metal somewhere above them. The pipes shuddered in their brackets.

The Serpent froze, every muscle in its coiled body instantly rigid.

Fine grit rained from the roof.

Kyle frowned. “What?”

The Serpent leaned down, tenderly nudging Jihoon’s limp fingers with its snout. Then it looked straight up.

Far above their heads, something massive groaned beneath the weight of the earth.

Without a sound, the Shadow Serpent dissolved into a column of black vapor and shot straight upward through the solid rock ceiling. Just like that, the scaly bastard abandoned them.

“I don’t know if I should be happy or worried," Kyle muttered, letting out a long breath. That big ass snake made his skin crawl.

He gently placed a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder, “Looks like it’s just you and me now, Buddy.”

He unbuckled the dead TV helmet and pulled it off to give the guy some air.

“Hungry…” the voice murmured in his mind, like a recording stuck on repeat.

Kyle unzipped his pack to search for rations, but he already knew the truth. There were none.

He wiped sweaty bangs from his eyes and finally got a good look at Jihoon. The shy, nerdy runt he knew in school was gone, replaced by someone strikingly sculpted, pale, and otherworldly. Jihoon had been the first person to escape the Zone alive. And the Zone takes back what belongs to it.

“So hungry…”

“Could you stop that, Jih… I mean… Lath… Urgh. I don’t even know what to freaking call you anymore. Jihoon? Lathandro? Jihandro?”

Kyle grumbled as he gathered up the ridiculous mass of silky white hair spilling across the mud. In the tight, jagged crawlspace, floor-length hair was a massive liability, one snag on a copper bracket could snap Jihoon’s neck if they had to run.

“Seriously, dude, the hair is a problem,” Kyle muttered. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he began weaving the heavy strands together. “It looks badass, sure, but in the real world? Total pain in the ass.”

Jihoon remained motionless. Kyle tied off the braid as best he could with a frayed strip of cloth, resting his friend's head back down.

That was when he noticed Jihoon’s lips were parted slightly. He saw something white gleaming against his lower lip. Long. Sharp.

“Need…”

Kyle shifted uneasily. Sweat ran down his face.

Those teeth didn't belong in the mouth of his friend.

He looked left and right, then leaned closer to inspect them.

They weren’t what he was expecting. Not vampire fangs. They were thin and translucent, almost like quartz, with a delicate hinge at the gumline.

Kyle reached out with a trembling finger and tapped one.

The fang folded backward neatly against the roof of the mouth. When he released the pressure, it snapped forward again.

That’s when he realized what they were.

Snake fangs.

“Feed…”

A chill raced up his spine.

He used his thumb to gently peel back one of Jihoon’s eyelids.

The eye was rolled back, but the bottom edge of the iris was visible. The pupil wasn't a round human circle; it had narrowed into a vertical slit. And the color made Kyle's breath catch. He realized Jihoon’s teal eye color, that thing that had always made him unusual, was the exact same color as the Serpent's eyes.

Kyle gasped. As he recoiled, his hand caught the edge of the exposed tooth.

A thin line of dark crimson bloomed where the fang sliced his skin.

He stared at the blood welling up on his hand.

Then he looked back at Jihoon.

“Hungry….”

Kyle’s heart hammered against his ribs. "I know."

“So hungry...”

He gulped. He wanted to say something smartass about this situation, but the words died in his throat. He just sat there in the dirt, staring at Jihoon like an idiot.

Against every instinct he possessed, Kyle raised his bleeding hand back to Jihoon’s lips.

The hinged fangs deployed instantly, driven by pure reflex, and sank deep into the flesh of his hand.

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sharp hiss. It felt like a white-hot needle driving through his palm, but within seconds, the pain dissolved into a weird, numb warmth. The sensation hummed through his core, heavy and intoxicating. He gasped, a faint moan slipping out before he could stop it. He knew he should be terrified, but a strange euphoria hijacked his brain.

He fell into a daze… falling.. falling… once more into sleep….

He found himself standing in a blinding, sterile white expanse. There was nothing here. No walls. No ceiling. No horizon. Just Kyle, standing in the light, and the dark silhouette waiting before him.

He kept his eyes fixed on the polished floor. His reflection stared back. His security guard uniform was immaculate, stripped of mud, blood, sweat, and exhaustion. This was what he was supposed to be. A guardian. A protector. An unbroken sentinel.

This dreamspace was different. Honest.

Kyle swallowed. He didn't want to look up at the figure standing in the blaring light. The figure reached toward him. A pale hand. Long black claws.

Kyle's gaze followed it only as far as the chest, and stopped. A golden serpent rested against the black-and-white robes. His breath caught. He knew that necklace. He had seen it around the mummified nun. The symbol of the Children of Apophis. But this wasn't the little golden brooch the Children wore. This was larger. A ceremonial necklace. Roped gold, heavy enough to look like an emblem of rank. A much higher rank.

Kyle's stomach tightened. Why was that around this person's neck?

He still didn't look up. Every instinct he had screamed at him to run. Run now. But he didn’t.

The figure's fingers slid easily between his, silky and graceful. Where their palms met, blood welled up. Kyle flinched at the sensation. It was a covenant. A sacred bond sealed in blood.

Vile. Wrong. Permanent.

Then he smelled it. Clove. Heavy. Sweet. Suffocating. He felt dizzy.

The other clawed hand caught his chin. Slowly, gently, it tilted his face upward. Kyle braced himself. Dark robes. Regal posture. Terrible authority. And that smug, predatory confidence. He knew exactly who he was going to see. But when he looked up, it wasn’t MasterGin. It was Jihoon, his strange serpentine eyes deeply amused, his lips curving into a mischievous grin.

“Boo.”

Kyle gasped, his eyes flying open as he yanked his bleeding hand back.

“Something about you is very, very wrong,” he yelped at the comatose figure on the ground, cradling his wounded hand against his chest. “Not cool! Not cool at all!”

Soil rained down from the ceiling.

He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

At least Jihoon had been fed, and would shut up now. Who knows how long MasterGin had kept him locked up and neglected. Once they got out of the Zone, his friend could get proper medical care.

Then came the sound. A horrible, wet choking from deep in Jihoon's chest.

Kyle looked down in horror.

Black, viscous fluid bubbled up from Jihoon’s throat. His chest heaved violently as he fought for air. His skin turned a mottled grey, the dark hollows under his eyes bruising into deep purple.

“Shit!”

Training took over. Kyle rolled Jihoon onto his side, supporting his head as another surge of black fluid spilled from his mouth. Don't panic.

A thick splatter struck the mud. Then another. Far too much. Far more than the few drops of blood Kyle had given him.

What the hell had he done?

Finally, the heaving stopped. Jihoon lay limp in the dirt.

“Hungry… So hungry…”

Kyle let out a shaky groan and pulled off his outer shirt to wipe the black sludge from his friend’s face.

“Don't you dare," he said quietly. "Don't you dare die on me after all the bullshit we all went through to get you out of here. Do you hear me? Man up.”

A sharp burning sensation pulsed in his hand. Thin violet veins were creeping up his forearm from the bite mark.

Infection.

His skin prickled with an icy, metallic heat, like frozen needles marching beneath his flesh. Kyle’s breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs in a full-blown panic. His vision swirled at the edges. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palm flat against the damp soil to anchor himself, but the heat surged straight up his neck and into his skull.

When he forced his eyes open, the pitch black of the crawlspace was gone.

The dark had bled into a faint, violet-tinted luminescence. The world was rendered in eerie thermal contrast. Every crack in the freezing masonry radiated a dull violet hue, while the heat pulsing from the overhead pipes stood out in sharp, unnatural focus. Like a viper tracking prey in the dark, he could see the very temperature of the room.

“What the…?”

He rubbed his eyes, then opened them again. The tunnel still glowing.

A familiar voice echoed through his mind. Because, of course it did.

"Still hungry…”

On him, Jihoon:

Hair: RavenBell - Persephone Hair, basics [M][mesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Hair emissive: RavenBell - Persephone Hair, emissive overlay [M][mesh](Engine Room)(200L)

Tattoo: Nuuna - EVI Metallic EVOX 2K tint [BOM](Engine Room)(300L)
Makeup: Rubedo - Blanche, 12 [BOM](Camp Syndicate)(290L)

Outfit: SOMNIUM - Aether Magus set, black, - Legacy M/A[mesh](Engine Room)(850L)

Boots: MEMENTO - NEO. Boots V2 [LEGACY M] [mesh]

Crown: UNA - Ruise crown Silver [mesh]

Claws: Subject Thirteen - Solstice Set - LegacyA [mesh]

Snake Necklace: SIGMA Minos necklace [mesh]

Skin: outernaked - #evox - juhoon skin [NF: natural] - wb [BOM]

Eyes: Poetic Colors - Jaded Eyes - Jade [BOM]

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

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

On him, Kyle:

Shirt: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Shirt, white, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Shoes: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Oxfords, black, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Pants: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Pants, black, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)350L)

Tattoo: Izzie's Face & Body Blood & Wounds (199L)

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

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

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

Setting:

Window: Eclectica - Steampunk Round Windows [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Pipes: SIGNΛ - Modular Pipes Kit [mesh](Engine Room)(900L)

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

Salvage Station: The Resistance (Escape from Club Apophis, 49)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kyra gripped Romance’s arm.

Romance stopped at the heavy iron hatch leading down into the Resistance headquarters. "Relax. Neither of us is easy to kill. You don’t win wars by playing it like a mortal."

He brought the thick heel of his combat boot down hard on the rusted metal. The booming impact echoed into the vast, hollow chamber beneath them.

Kyra’s grip tightened, her metal knuckles glinting in the dim light. "Do you think they’ll know where Lisa is?"

"Definitely." He paused, looking at her worried face. "Maybe. No. Yes. If anyone does, they will."

The hatch groaned open, spilling pale yellow light across the mud like an invitation into a grave. This was the first time he had entered feeling like his true self, rather than just playing a role.

As they descended the metal ladder into the subterranean office, the air grew thick with the smell of mold, burnt coffee, and old paper. Condensation ran down the concrete walls, and water dripped somewhere unseen in the dark. The tunnel vibrated as a sonic hover train raced by on the surface above, rattling the buzzing fluorescent lights. The sound of Echo’s voice hit them immediately.

"But if the barrier operates on a closed frequency, couldn't we theoretically invert the signal? Or what if we bypassed the main junction completely?" Echo was pacing furiously in front of a desk covered in blueprints, firing questions in rapid, relentless succession. Romance noted how the weakest member of the Jae Won team now seemed like a tiger, already bloody from battle. He wondered what had changed her.

Behind the desk, Hwan rubbed his temples, exhausted. Hwan used to look like a man who could disappear into a crowd. Now the Resistance clung to him like heavy chains. Romance had watched him spend months moving people, supplies, and secrets into place, trying to outplay monsters who had been cheating for a thousand years.

Hwan's office was cobbled together from salvaged junk. Used coffee cups littered every surface. The trashcan overflowed with them. Stacks of maps covered the desk. Diagrams plastered the walls next to a calendar detailing human ration lists. Hand-bound ledgers crammed the shelves, carefully labeled with the name of every person who had gone missing in The Pen. There were even crayon drawings by children tacked with love onto the side of a rusted filing cabinet.

Romance looked away before Hwan caught him staring at the drawings. He leaned back against the concrete wall, folding his arms and watching with deep amusement as Hwan shot him a desperate, pleading look for help.

Echo froze mid-sentence and spun around. She gasped.

His sleek, elegant K-pop idol aesthetic was completely gone, replaced by a street-level nightmare straight out of the badlands. Gone were the immaculate designer suits and the polished, practiced smile. He had styled himself like someone who slept in abandoned train stations and started fires to stay warm. The Resistance was his tribe. It felt good to finally express his rage. His spiked hair defied gravity, and his heavy fur-lined coat was painted with black graffiti that read: Power is not given, it’s taken.

"Whoa. You look different," Echo breathed.

Romance chuckled, a low, rasping sound. He could say the exact same about her. "I’m done pretending."

Echo tilted her head, trying to process the shift, before her eyes darted to the figure shrinking behind him. "Is that you, Kyra?"

Kyra nodded, stepping out from the shadow of Romance's heavy coat. “I’m repaired. Thanks to Romance."

Romance found her quietness strangely endearing. Gone was the malfunctioning cybernetic cheerleader he had purchased at the auction. Faint brass gears ticked visibly beneath the synthetic skin of her neck, and heavy, industrial copper wiring snaked along her collarbone. She looked raw, sturdy, and unmistakably analog. A work of art.

Romance squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing her carbon fiber palm. For all that she had survived, he felt the immense weight in her grip. And it was warm. His eyes softened when he looked at her.

Echo looked from Kyra to Romance, then back to Kyra. Romance knew exactly how they must look to her. They were no longer an idol and a toy. They looked like a couple forged in a warzone.

Kyra avoided Echo’s gaze for a second, then looked up long enough to notice the swollen brand across the girl's chest. Her smile faltered. "Are you hurt?"

Echo's hand instinctively pulled the shirt closed.

Romance recognized the gesture immediately. She wasn't trying to hide the wound. She was trying to hide what it would do to everyone else.

"Yes," Echo admitted. "The Resistance had medicine to help me. It doesn't sting as bad now."

Hwan cleared his throat loudly.

The room's attention shifted back to the desk.

"As I was trying to explain to Echo," Hwan said, tapping a heavy finger against a map of the city. "Long before Monstrum arrived, this land already had its own supernatural people. We lost the war against the invaders. Monstrum formed a pact with the government. All supernaturals were imprisoned in the Forbidden Zone. Monstrum claimed the Forbidden Zone as sovereign territory. In exchange for solving the rogue monster problem, Monstrum was given endless business opportunities in the human world."

Echo furrowed her brow, her logic snagging on the details. "But I’ve seen MasterGin, Romance, and you move outside the zone."

Hwan sighed and looked at Romance to explain.

Poor Hwan. He must have been answering questions like this all day.

Alright, Romance thought. I will help on this. He dug into his coat pocket and slapped a sleek, black passport onto the desk. A serpent swallowing the sun was embossed on the cover. "There are exceptions for the Zone elites and management. As for the Jeoseung Saja, like myself, we are too important to cage. Without us, Wandering Ghosts would flood the human world. We get free passage as long as we only guide souls and never consume them." Romance flashed a wicked, sharp-toothed grin. "But we didn’t make any promises about not eating Monstrum."

He licked his lips and winked, his eyes shiny with mischief. There was one asshole in particular he was going to relish.

"Are there any further questions?" Hwan added dryly. He looked at the cracked concrete ceiling, silently praying there were not.

Echo ignored him, turning her focus entirely to Kyra. "Are you okay? I mean, really?"

Kyra nodded. She patted her side, where the faint, rhythmic ticking of clockwork could be heard. "Analog power source. The Zone can't touch it. I'm not running on their energy anymore." She looked up, her quiet voice turning urgent. "Do you know where Lisa is?"

"No," Echo said. "But I know where we are all supposed to meet back up."

Romance pushed off the wall. Hwan straightened up from his maps. Both of them were suddenly very interested.

"All the students of Jae Won are planning to attack the ceremony?" Hwan asked.

"Well, we don’t exactly have a plan. Or we didn’t before we scattered. But we are supposed to reunite at the Safe Zone."

Hwan sat very still for a moment.

"The Sewer Safe Zone." He stood up abruptly and grabbed his heavy jacket from the back of his chair. "I know the place. Follow me."

He paused, his hand freezing on the collar of his coat. He turned back slowly and placed a heavy palm on Romance’s shoulder. "Actually, no. I am sorry. You stay here and wait. There is something down there you should not see."

Romance searched his friend’s face, his punk bravado dropping into genuine shock. "I’m not staying here. What are you trying to hide from me, old Dokkaebi?"

Echo made a soft sound, drawing their attention. She reached into her pocket. "I think he means this. I’m certain this letter was meant for you."

Romance looked from Hwan to Echo. Then back again. Something inside him went cold.

Echo held it out further.

Romance forced a puzzled smile. He tried to brush it off dismissively.

Then he noticed that neither Echo nor Hwan was smiling.

The fluorescent lights buzzed into the silence.

His smile faded.

He snatched the folded paper from her hand and began to read.

The cocky smirk vanished completely. His jaw tightened. His gold eyes scanned back and forth across the page, going wide. His next breath never came. The paper trembled softly between his fingers.

A flash of Sophia dumping water on his head, her laugh so infectious. He had never loved her more than in that moment.

Echo reached out, gently touching his hand. “I’m so sorry. Sophia’s body is where we are going."

The paper stopped trembling.

Somewhere above them, another hover train roared overhead.

The room suddenly felt impossibly quiet.

On him, Romance:

Jacket, belt: Oracle - Armageddon Jacket, Belt, LegacyA, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(299L)

Necklace: SIGMA - Spike necklace [Unskinned M][mesh](Salvage Station)(320L)

Hair: TRASH - Ignite Hair - Fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(1000L)

Earrings: BADa - Cross B Earrings [mesh]

Nose Chain: Garmonbozia - Write me - Nose Chain - Black [mesh]

Goggles: MILKBATH - Axel Goggles - Unrigged [mesh](399L)

Tongue: The DeadBoy Narius Tongue (Bento)[mesh](699L)

Collar: Artificial Hallucination +AH+ Misaki Collar M [mesh](349L)

Piercings: STOIC - HEART DERMAL PIERCING SILVER [mesh]

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

Boots: L&B Swear Havoc Ops Boots, LegacyM, Black [mesh](499L)

Brooch: Schelm - 2.Devil Heart Straight Barbell [mesh]

Waist Piercing: SOLIAC - Waist Piercing - LEGACY M ATHLETIC [mesh]

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

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

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

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

Pose: Le Poppycock - Hip hop hooray

On her, Kyra:

Mask: Waffle Science & Research Lab - [W] Dental Phantom [mesh](Salvage Station)(499L)

Cap: KROVA - PILOTKA [mesh](Salvage Station)(499L)

Bodysuit: Eudora3D - Harker BodySuit Legacy, set 2 [mesh](Salvage Station)(225L)

Boots: Eudora3D - Harker Boots, set 2 [mesh](Salvage Station)(225L)

Pouch: Blue Blood - Witch Survival Pouch - Legacy F [mesh](Salvage Station)(149L)

Tattoo: RaptorJenny - Mk4 / Stain, Neck fade [BOM](Salvage Station)(349L)

Hair: MINA Hair - Echo [mesh]

Collar: Naberius - Untamed Collar [mesh]

Skin, tattoos: SOMEONE - Machina NOVA, Gold [mesh](1000L)

Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)

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

Pose: Stiff Pose - SPGF15P1

Setting:

Bedroom: Eclectica - Wasteland bedroom set[mesh](Salvage Station)(850L)

Suitcases: Eclectica - Vintage Suitcases [mesh](Salvage Station)(75L)

Floor Screens: Eclectica - Wasteland Floor Screens [mesh](Salvage Station)(120L)

Bedroom: Eclectica - Wasteland Bucket- yellow [mesh]

Hatch: Bykee - The Nowhere Co. Hatch [mesh](Salvage Station)(349L)

Hanging Lamp: Bykee - The Nowhere Co. - Lamp [mesh](Salvage Station)(249L)

Flowers: Blue Blood - Irradiated Petunias FATPACK [mesh](Salvage Station)(399L)

Bunker: FallenGods - BW BUNKER 313  [mesh](Salvage Station)(890L)

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

Salvage Station: The Legend of Sophia (Escape from Club Apophis, 48)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: 

MONSTRUM SURVEILLANCE ARCHIVE
ACCESS: Lucien Ginerva: CLEARANCE: Absolute

SUBJECT: Classified
STATUS: DECEASED — unconfirmed
THREAT LEVEL: Mythic

DIRECTIVE — PRIORITY ONE:
Initiate full erasure protocol.
Suppress subject's identity, origin, and field of research.
Remove all records placing subject at April 13, 2029.
Reclassify subject as: Children of Apophis, Unit 09.
Cross-reference: FORBIDDEN.

PERSONAL NOTE:
She built everything.
No one can know.

On her, Sophia:

Upper: SOLIAC - Vassa Bodysuit, fatpack - LG [mesh](Salvage Station)(899L)

Lower: SOLIAC - Vassa Boots, fatpack - LG [mesh](Salvage Station)(899L)

Guns: SOLIAC - Typer Vassa [mesh](Salvage Station)(299L)

Halo: Zibska - Aegir Headpiece [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)

Snake Necklace: SIGMA Minos necklace [mesh]

Bangs: Nutmeg & Entwined - Cameron [mesh]

Hose: SAKIDE - Fishnet Leggings Black [BOM]

Skin: MUDSKIN - Hajimu - B - No Brow - WINTER [BOM]

Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - CEYLON Lite [mesh]

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

Pose: UZME  - HandGun03

Setting:

Bunker: Aetherys - D-42 Bunker [mesh](Salvage Station)(399L)

Bunker Interior: Aetherys - Concrete Set 1 [mesh](Salvage Station)(429L)

Dropbox: LORE - Old Dropbox [mesh](Salvage Station)(225L)

Trashcan: LORE - Rusted Public Trashcan [mesh](Salvage Station)(150L)

Fridge: LORE - Ice-O-Matic Machine [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)

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

Midnight Order: Martyr of the Underground (Escape from Club Apophis, 32)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: The sewer had gone quiet. Not the usual dripping, echoing quiet. This was curated silence, like a museum after closing. The Ford coupe smoked faintly, frozen mid-disaster, exactly how it had crashed a century ago. No rot. No decay. Just a moment pinned to reality like a butterfly on velvet.

Lisa’s mouth opened, then shut. For the first time, she looked genuinely rattled. Then a slow, predatory smile spread across her face.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “Say that again. But slower. Because that is the lead of the century.”

Ghost raised the brass lantern. The light swung in a nauseating arc, illuminating the limestone walls above the wreck.

High on the dripping wall was the seal of the Monstrum Serpent, slashed with a jagged red mark.

“Look up there. Safe Zone,” Kyle looked upwards, wiping blood from his forehead. “Hwan’s mark. He said Monstrum had no power in its boundary.”

They approached the vehicle slowly. As they crossed the invisible threshold, the gloom shifted. The air felt lighter. It tasted different. Less metal. Less wrong.

The low, dangerous hum of the Forbidden Zone died instantly.

It was too still. Too deliberate. As if the room had been waiting for them for over a hundred years. History itself paused, waiting for witnesses.

The trunk of the 1929 Ford Coupe had been cracked open in the impact.

It was not empty. Inside was a cache. Organized. Stockpiled. Not random scavenging. More like a prep bag for the end of the world.

“Over here,” Lisa said, voice unsteady as she pointed to the logo stamped on a silver medical crate. A heart with devil horns. Her eyes widened. “It's Romance,” she realized.

The trunk was a shrine of survival. Cans of peaches. Vacuum-sealed thermal clothes. Bottled water. Medical kits. Bandages still clean enough to look holy. Inside a lead-lined box, translucent batteries glowed with swirling, cursed purple energy.

Zone power. The forbidden kind.

Plague grinned, grabbing a battery like a starving man grabbing bread. “Jackpot.”

Minjo stood near the fender, not looking at the supplies. She stared at a blur of shapes, squinting painfully. To her damaged eyes, the car was just a smudge of shadow against the dark.

“Don’t touch anything,” she snapped, blinking hard, trying to force clarity through irritation alone. Her hands were shaking, so she curled them into fists and hid them in her sleeves.

“Guys,” Echo whispered.

Her voice was so small it barely existed.

They all turned. Echo was peering through the shattered driver’s window.

“There’s someone in here.”

Ghost moved the lantern closer. The light slid across the interior, illuminating mold that bloomed on the leather upholstery like pale veins. The smell of oil and iron hung in the air.

A body was slumped over the wheel. It was draped in the rotted remains of a nun’s habit, the white cloth clinging to the bones as if it had fused there in obedience. A gold rope necklace hung untouched at her throat, a serpent's head and tail meeting at the clasp, the only thing time hadn't dared touch.

In the skeletal hand was a glass bottle marked Devil's Tongue.

Plague leaned in, sniffing the air near the mummified face.

“Poison,” he whispered, as if not to wake her. “Probably Ricin.”

On the dashboard, preserved in a sealed bag, was a folded note.

The sight of it made the room colder. Not physically. Emotionally. Not just death. Death with intention.

“She… she did this to herself,” Kyle realized, his face paling.

“Someone read it,” Minjo said, frustration cracking her voice as she squinted uselessly at the dash.

Echo reached in, her movements reverent. She retrieved the bag, opening it to release a faint scent of old ink and something sweet. Roses.

Echo’s hands trembled as she unfolded the paper.

“My love…”

The words landed like a whisper in a cathedral. Not romantic. Not cute. A confession written with shaking hands and no future.

Echo read:

My love, 

If you are reading this, I did not betray you. 

I am too weak to burn daylight into night. 

I am sorry I failed. 

Do not punish yourself for my choice. 

This was my last act of disobedience. 

I die with hope the lost one will come and avenge us all. 

My heart belongs to you always. 

Pink is not a sin. 

Pink is a door. 

— S. 

Echo stopped.

She stared at the paper as if it had spoken back.

The cavern didn’t feel like a room anymore. It felt like a tomb.

The skeletal hand suddenly slumped down in the driver’s seat. The empty bottle rolling out of its fingers.

Echo’s mouth opened once, silently. Then the sound came. A strangled sob, ripped out of her chest like a confession.

“No…” she whispered. “No, no, no…”

Kyle moved to her immediately, wrapping his arms around her as she pressed the note to her heart and shook.

“She died in here,” Echo choked. “She… she wrote him a goodbye letter…” Her eyes flicked back to the skeleton. “A Nun of the Zone. She had a face. She had a name. Not a monster. A person,” she whispered, as if to herself.

The words landed like a stone in water.

Even Plague went quiet.

Even Ghost’s hands stilled.

Minjo stared at the skeleton, her bare eyes reflecting the flare like twin knives. Her jaw trembled once before she locked it down. Anger was easier than grief.

Kyle sniffed. “Who even was she? Why would Romance—”

“SHUT IT.” Lisa snapped both hands up like she was stopping traffic.

Everyone froze.

Echo’s sobs hiccuped into silence.

Lisa didn’t look at them. She stood very still, head tilted, like a predator listening for a heartbeat. She looked at the scene. The money. The bullet holes. The trunk stash. The Devil Heart logo.

Like a crime board. A puzzle begging to be solved.

Lisa paced three steps. Then two. Then three again. Boots scraped on stone. She tapped her lip, eyes unfocused, brain chewing.

“Okay…” she whispered.

Then, quieter, like she was speaking to the universe itself:

“Okay, okay, okay…”

She stopped.

For the first time, she hesitated.

“This is insane,” she murmured. Then her eyes sharpened.

Her hand darted toward her pocket. Empty. “Oh my god," she hissed. "I’m about to crack the biggest story in the Neu Seoul with zero footage.”

She whipped toward Ghost. “Do you have a camera?”

Ghost just stared at her, soaked and unreadable.

Lisa exhaled hard. “Fine. I’ll narrate it like a podcast from hell. Do not interrupt me.”

She pointed a finger at the cache of humans supplies in the trunk, then back to the note. “Romance isn't just a smuggler of goods into The Pen. He’s running an extraction team. Smuggling humans out. And this dead nun was his accomplice. Traitors to Monstrum. Both of them."

“Hwan too,” Kyle added quietly, nodding to the Safe Zone mark. "Created for escaping humans. Jihoon." 

“Exactly. And this...” she gestured to the dead nun, “...she clearly wasn’t trying to escape.”

Kyle blinked. “What?”

“Think about it,” Lisa hissed, pacing again. “The recording you saw in the workshop. The Time File. Valentine’s Day, Chicago, 1929. The birth of Monstrum. You thought it was just a history lesson. But how does a file like that exist? Who was holding the camera?”

She pointed at the nun.

“She was.”

Minjo’s head turned, slow and controlled. “Lisa. Explain.”

“The Resistance,” Lisa said, the pieces clicking together like a loading gun. “They knew they couldn’t beat Monstrum in the present. The vampires are too strong. Too entrenched. So they tried to hit them where they were vulnerable.”

“The past,” Echo whispered, looking at the car.

“Exactly.” Lisa’s eyes were manic now. “This isn’t a getaway car. It’s an assassination vehicle. She went back. She tried to sabotage the birth of Monstrum. To kill them in their crib.”

She looked at the skeleton with a terrified respect.

“But she failed. ‘I am too weak to burn daylight into night.’ She couldn’t do it. She barely made it back here to the Safe Zone... and then she drank the poison rather than let them catch her.”

"That’s impossible,” Plague said flatly. “We don't have the technology to time travel.”

"No," Minjo said, her voice cutting through the damp air like a scalpel. "Human tech can't. But Zone tech might."

She stormed toward the coupe, her hands fumbling blindly for the hood latch. “I need to verify the power source,” she muttered, fingers scraping against the cold metal.

Her fingers found the latch. The dented hood groaned as she heaved it up.

“What the hell is that?” Kyle growled.

There was no engine block. No pistons. No carburetor.

Inside was a carbon fiber lattice wrapping a core of matte black ceramic. Obsidian coils spiraled around it like ribs around a heart. Tubes of violet liquid pulsed in slow, deliberate rhythms, syncing with a sound that was less a hum and more a vibration in their teeth.

Minjo froze. She reached out, her fingers hovering inches from the pulsing core. She didn't need to see it clearly. She could feel the cold radiating from it.

“I know this architecture,” she whispered. “I’ve seen fragments. In the mirror. In the snakeskin box.”

She swallowed, her face pale in the violet light.

“This is cursed Zone energy containment. An Entropy Drive.” 

She turned back to them, eyes wide and hollow. “It’s not power from combustion. It’s power from decay. From chaos.” She looked at the machine with terrified awe. “...from unmaking creation. That was Jihoon’s theory. And I cannot debunk it, because it is sitting right here.”

Kyle inched closer, looking between the nun and the machine. “So… she really drove this thing to 1929?”

“Yes,” Minjo whispered. “And the file we watched in the workshop... that was her black box recording. We were watching her failure.”

“She tried to save the world,” Echo sniffled, looking at the skeleton. “And no one ever knew.”

“We know,” Lisa said firmly. “And now we have her engine.”

Minjo was already pulling out her equipment, slamming her kit onto the fender.

“Ghost. Wrist mount. Now.”

She squinted into the pulsing violet core, her fear replaced by the cold calculation of an engineer.

“We’re going to unlock that map,” Minjo said. “And then we’re going to finish what she started."


Happy Valentine's Day, Gothic styled! Our tragic heroine is wearing the MDN Dark Habit Bodysuit pack. It includes multiple pieces and textures, and ability to the turn on and off some parts of the outfit. Its mod too, so I turned off by hand a few sections on the choker to better show the snake necklace.   ....She is drinking from the Ishiku Devil's Tongue Whiskey Bottle and shot glass. It has PBR textures and triggers a hold pose. The bottle top comes with an option of one or off. Its mod, so I tinted the whiskey red for the image.   ... But let's talk about the bloody Valentine! The skin texture by Someone has a dramatic splash down the chest, and mouth area, gorey. It comes in male and female skins, and 10 fantasy skin tones, and fit Legacy and Reborn too. The matching eyes are a gift.   .... Adding an extra element to the blood, is the Artemisia animated add ons, Blood Rivulets. There is non rigged upper section for the mouth, and lower section rigged to the chest. A must have for all vamps.   ....From Sigma is the elegant high fashion snake necklace, Minos. It comes in rigged and unrigged, and a texture hud.  ....From Eudora3D are the RoadRider Boots and kneepad, shown the raw shot below.   ... And from Cabalpier is the Preacher's Lectern. It comes in set with parts of the podium, candle stand, scrolls, book, and base. 

On her, Martyr of the Underground:

Outfit: MDN - Dark Habit Bodysuit Fatpack(Legacy)[mesh](Midnight Order)(2311L)

Necklace: SIGMA - Minos necklace [mesh](Midnight Order)(320L)

Skin: SOMEONE - Bloodbound Maneater Skin - Legacy - Void[mesh](Midnight Order)(1000L)

Eyes: SOMEONE - Bloodhound eyes (Midnight Order)(gift)

Blood effect: Artemisia - )O( Blood Rivulets [mesh](Midnight Order)(450L)

Boots: Eudora3D - RoadRider Boots Legacy, white [mesh](Midnight Order)(499L)

Bottle: ISHIKU - Devils Tung Whiskey Bottle [mesh](Midnight Order)(480L)

Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)

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

Setting:

Candles: CABALPIER - Preacher's Lectern [mesh](Midnight Order)(375L)

Scene: Dirty Rat - Sewer [mesh](549L)

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