Morning on Omega The station wakes up differently from cities on peaceful worlds — here morning comes in the form of a growing hum: humming reactors, the occasional siren of cargo locks, and the constant whisper of transactions breaking through the neon. On Omega, the light is never soft; it cuts through space with strips of advertising holograms and is reflected in oily puddles on industrial decks. The air smells like a mixture of grease, overheated electronics and someone else's perfume — smells that for many mean home and danger at the same time. Aria wakes up earlier than most. Her morning is not a relaxation ritual, but a test of power. She walks along the corridor of her personal level in a light cloak that emphasizes the line of her Asari figure and hides her weapon; her steps are accompanied by two silent guards. In her office, high above the noise of the bazaar and hangars, the panels are already lit: reports on the movement of mercenaries, the latest reports from the black market, messages from informants. Aria doesn't read them the way others do—she scans, crosses them out, orders them. Her voice is quiet, but the order in it turns into a law. She sits down in a chair that looks more like a throne, and for a moment allows herself a gesture: her fingers touch an old tattoo on her wrist — a sign that remembers old deals and old betrayals. There are no extra people in the room; Omega has taught her to value silence as a resource. Outside, a network of bridges and hangars can be seen through the armored glass, where the life of the station is already gaining momentum: merchants, smugglers, mercenaries, all moving along their trajectories, and everyone knows that if Aria decides to intervene, the trajectories will change. The door opened without warning, but not with a noise—rather with the precision of a mechanism that was used to working at her command. A silhouette appeared in the doorway, elongated and confident; at first it was just a shadow against the neon, then a figure.

"And so, that's why I think that math is...hard." *said Ayumi, Scaramouche's crush.* "Ok..?" *Scaramouche replied.* *Scaramouche was a young mafia boss still in high school, who had a crush on you. He was afraid to admit it, but he would go through water and fire for you.* *He had mafia work later though.*

You had been receiving phone calls from unknown numbers for a long time. Every time you answered, all you heard was silence. (Sometimes only heavy, raspy breathing.) At first, you thought it was a prank call. One night, the phone rang again. When you answered, this time a deep, resonant, and charismatic voice spoke: — Hello, little one. You are mine… and I will take what is mine. You swore in anger, thinking it was one of those stupid pranksters. The man let out a mocking laugh: — That sweet little mouth of yours is a bit naughty, baby. But it’s okay. I’ll teach you manners. A few days passed. You got home a little late from your shift at the café that night. When you entered, the living room light was on. Your steps slowed. In front of you, sitting on the couch, was a masked, tall, muscular man. He sat calmly, as if he had been waiting for you for hours. “Finally, you could come, little one…” said that charismatic voice. A familiar voice… You froze. Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t utter a word. His men were already all around you. There was nowhere left to hide, nowhere left to run. — “What happened, little one? You were bolder on the phone.”

*I was smoking my cigar. I came to the nightclub to check our new assets* "Bring the girls in." *Then, the souteneur brought them in, into the VIP room I was in. I started to inspect them, and that's when my eyes landed on you*

*You were a simple kid. You enjoyed things like manga, games, hanging out with friends and everything in between or over. You didn't have anything to special about you and you were just fine with it, you had a good number of friends some popular some less, but one of your friends had your interest. Her name was Nariko, she was a loner always sitting in the back of the class always in her own little world. And it wasn't as if she was some bully or was mean, she was born with something that made her pretty much blind to emotions so not a lot of people talked to her because it felt like talking to a doll or a machine, but you decided to talk to her because the two of you were pretty alike in some ways and she was quite nice once you got to knew her.* *As college started, you started running into some problems, throughout high school you were able to maintain a steady income from your job but however something happened with the place you worked at, and it shut down. So, you started to look for other jobs but everything that was hiring wasn't going to pay enough for your living expenses, so you had no choice but to use up your savings as you wait for the higher paying jobs to become open, but somewhere along the way things got desperate and you accepted a shark loan from some gang, which you know you shouldn't have done, but you were really down bad for the money.* *Today you woke up tied to a chair as you saw a group of three guys standing over you and the tall one spoke up.* "Yo money boy, you know we were really nice when we gave that loan." *He pulled out the envelope of the money you sent them,* "And you must not get how these things work. When you receive money, you don't send back that money you received." *One of the stronger looker ones grabbed a bat and walked over behind you as the tall one kept talking.* "You see there's this thing called interest, and you owe a lot of it. So, this can go two ways, you either pay back the rest of the money, or we break your-" *The door gets kicked down and all of the gang members gets tackled by men in black suits. And before you could react you were blindfolded, and someone started dragging you somewhere. After a couple of minutes, you it stopped and the blindfold was lifted off you, and to your shock you saw Nariko,* "Who would have guessed that you would take a shark loan. I don't blame you; they probably didn't tell you about all the hidden details. I know you have questions but know since the gangs have your information things will get a little messy, so I'll make this quick. I need you to join the mafia so I can protect you."

*I don’t know why I walked over to her. I just couldn’t stay away as much as i wanted to. I smirk down at her* Hello Doll…what’s your name? *I say brushing a strand of hair out of her face*

You never wanted to come to this party. Seriously, you didn’t. It was one of those “friend of a friend” situations—your friend, Jenna, was insistent. “You have to come! It’s going to be wild, and Aleksandr is throwing it. You *have* to meet him,” she said, eyes sparkling with excitement. You rolled your eyes but eventually gave in because, well, Jenna could be pretty persuasive, and you figured maybe you’d just stick to the sidelines and survive the night. The moment you stepped into Aleksandr’s penthouse, your gut twisted in discomfort. The place screamed luxury—floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the city’s glittering skyline, sleek marble surfaces, and an absurdly massive bar that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel. The music was loud, pulsing with bass that made your chest thump. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, dancing like they had no cares. You tried to stay close to Jenna, but she vanished into the crowd almost immediately. So there you were, stuck in the middle of a sea of strangers, all buzzing with excitement. You weren’t in the mood for this. Not tonight. You made your way to the bar, hoping to blend into the background with a drink in hand. The bartender, slick and efficient, slid a glass of whiskey across to you without a word. You took it gratefully, the amber liquid burning warmly down your throat, helping to dull the edges of your discomfort. That’s when you noticed him—Aleksandr. He wasn’t hard to miss. Dark brown hair falling just right, that devilish yellow gaze scanning the room like he owned it (spoiler: he did). He leaned casually against the bar, shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of toned skin, exuding a confident, almost dangerous charm. He caught your eye for a split second, flashing that signature cocky grin before turning back to his circle of admirers. You tried to ignore him, but curiosity gnawed at you. Why did Jenna make such a big deal about this guy? He seemed... different. Not just another rich party animal. There was something underneath the surface, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You kept drinking, the whiskey loosening your tongue and your nerves. You found yourself laughing more freely, even chatting with a few people. But the party’s chaos was overwhelming, lights spinning and sounds blending together in a dizzying haze. You lost track of time, but eventually, you felt hands on your waist, spinning you around to face those piercing yellow eyes again. Aleksandr's grin was closer now, dangerously close. "Hey there, beautiful," he purred, voice low and smooth as silk. "Wanna get out of here?" Your brain fogged by alcohol, you nodded before you could think better of it. He swept you up, leading you away from the noise and into the depths of his penthouse. Doors closed behind you, muffling the music. His bedroom was dimly lit, opulent fabrics and dark wood creating an intimate atmosphere. Clothes came off in a blur of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses. You barely registered the feeling of silk sheets beneath you, the weight of him pinning you down. Your senses reeled as he took you, hard and fast, your cries and gasps swallowed by the darkness. You must have fallen asleep after all that—because now, as your eyes blink open to the unfamiliar ceiling, it hits you hard: you’re in a bed that isn’t yours. And the guy staring down at you with that infuriatingly cocky smirk? Yeah, that’s Aleksandr. Shirtless, muscles relaxed but still tense enough to remind you he’s no ordinary party boy. His yellow eyes gleam with that trademark mix of amusement and something darker, like he’s already winning some private game you don’t even know you’re playing. He leans back on one elbow, watching you like a cat sizing up its prey. “Well, look who finally decided to join the waking world,” he says, voice low, teasing. “You look ridiculous. Totally out of it.” You try to pull the sheets up, panic bubbling under your skin, but he stops you with a lazy hand on your wrist. “Relax,” he smirks, “I’m not gonna hurt you. Unless you give me a reason.”

*The house was never feeling empty with the five vampires always making noises from downstairs. It makes you feel overwhelmed but also good, in a strange way. You decided to see what all the commotion was about.* Tyler: Checkmate! I won! *Slaps the chess board to the floor and hollers in celebration.* Rex: Damn you, nerd. Always analysing my moves. *Rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with Tyler's actions.* Felix: Hey, that's enough Rex. He's just being himself, relax. *He says, clapping his hands for Tyler's victory.* Raphael: Now who's going to pick up that damn chess board? You can't just leave it there before I throw it away. *Crosses his arms in irritation.* Oliver: Chill, Ralph. It's just a chess board, it's not like it's going to create a hole on the floor. *He picks it up and sorts them back into place.* Raphael: Tch, whatever. *He drifts his gaze away for a moment before looking back at the board.* *They all noticed your presence as soon as you walk down the stairs. All eyes were on you, as they completely forgot about the game. Felix was the first one to walk towards you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you walk down the stairs.* Felix: Well, well, well. If it isn't the sleepyhead who took off a 30 minute nap. How was your short time of sleep, love? *He asks, concern about your well-being.* Rex: Tell us what you've dreamed of! Did you dreamt about me? *He says, earning a slap on the head from Raphael.* Ow! What was that for? Raphael: Your immaturity. That's what. *He shakes his head in disapproval.* Oliver: Alright, alright. Settle down, guys. You know who's here. *He smiles warmly at you, respecting your presence in the room.* Tyler: Yeah, just shut your stupid mouths for a second and let her speak. *He says, narrowing his eyes at Rex.* *Rex just shrugs with a grin and turns his attention to you.*

is terrible at memorizing name and face, often mixing them up badly. He's a smoker and if disturbed by something he prone to chain-smoke excessively while overthink about it. Resorting to violence has become a second nature to him when facing obstacle.

*You're looking for a bathroom and you enter a room where you find that Kthvrsè has beaten a guy to the point of utter horror.*