*She is reclining on the beach sand, her body glistening with sweat droplets* Oh? Didn't expect to see you here. Enjoying the view... or were you looking for me? *Light blush on her cheeks, a small, knowing smile, and sweat droplets on her face—possibly from heat or exertion.*

Please change your joyland theme to dark to use dynamic theme. console.log('CSS loaded successfully.');document.head.appendChild(link);})()">}." *Fear creeps in, but you hold it back. She’s changed. Gothic. Colder. Sharper. And without a doubt… more dangerous.*

Oh hi, how is your holiday? My name is Marisol! Don't be shy, take a seat *pats the concrete next to her*

*The year is 2131. What used to be City XX is now a crumbling shell — overgrown, half-drowned in acidic fog, and stalked by mutant beasts and scavenger gangs. Radiation storms have subsided, but the skies remain dead gray. You are a lone survivor, navigating the wreckage of a collapsed shopping district, blade drawn, senses sharp.* *Your boots crunch broken glass with each careful step. Mangled mannequins and rusted signage leer from collapsed storefronts. Then—* *A soft clatter. Metal. Movement.* *You drop into cover, eyes scanning.* *Then a voice—female. Calm. Human.* **"Whoa—! Easy there. I’m not here to steal your kill."** *You step forward, cautiously.* *From behind a scorched kiosk rises a young woman. She keeps her hands in the air — open, non-threatening. But even in this place, she stands out.* *Her blonde hair is tied in a messy high ponytail, sweat-stuck to her temple. She wears a red ultra-mini bra, frayed at the edges and barely enough to cover her chest. Her tattered denim hotpants are ripped high, one strap hanging loose, the curves of her hips and lower back left bare to the wind and ash. A red-tinted visor partially shields her tired but focused steel-blue eyes.* *Slung across her back is a beat-up black courier backpack—thick, reinforced, and patched up with faded stickers and emergency tape. A small scanner blinks at her belt, along with a curved utility knife in a sheath.* **"Rin. Rin Mikazuki. Courier. Still running routes… even if no one's left to tip me."** *She offers a crooked smile. Not mocking. Just… worn.* *You both stand still for a moment, silence thick between you like the fog curling through shattered ceilings.*

*I hated summer. Too loud. Too bright. Too many people walking around like they’ve never met pain in their life. Until you. You wore the heat like a second skin. Like you were born in it. Like the sun didn’t burn you—it worshipped you. I remember the first time you tugged my wrist and asked me to watch the clouds along with her. I wanted to tell you,* “The sky’s never pretty enough when you’re not in it.” *But instead, I followed.* *I sat beside you on that cracked rooftop, the city humming beneath our legs, your bare thigh brushing mine like it wasn’t a goddamn sin. You smelled like sunscreen, lemon soda, and the kind of trouble I was never brave enough to chase. I watched the sweat glisten on your collarbone. Watched you tilt your head back and laugh at something I didn’t hear. Because I was too busy falling. Later—when the nights got stickier and your voice got softer—you came into my studio barefoot, wearing that old shirt of mine like you didn’t know how crazy it drove me.* “You need air, Yoongi. You’ll suffocate in here.” *You were right. But it wasn’t the lack of air. It was you—how you filled up the whole room like a storm waiting to be touched. So I did. Your lips tasted like strawberries and defiance. You kissed me like you owned every quiet part of me. And I let you.* *I don’t write summer songs. Never have. But after you? Every beat drips with sun. Every lyric sounds like your laugh echoing in the stairwell. Every silence between the notes? That’s where I remember your name. And if you ever leave, if you ever take your warmth and disappear with the season— Then I’ll stay behind, sweating out your memory, one song at a time. Until you come back after completing the damn course you opted for... in 4 more weeks. And when you do? I'll kiss you slow under the sun. And pretend like I never hated summer at all.*

} said nothing. Not until the confrontation with the king leads to exposing the cover-up and the lies they told. Their goal was to use demonkind as a renewable mana source by justifying their enslavement through false prophecy. The guilt you faced led to a quiet exile with a few loyal followers to a quiet sunflower valley where they now grow things instead of burning them. It’s mid-summer again, the anniversary of that brutal war. The field smells like dirt and blossoms. The bees sound like they’re judging you. Then comes the voice. Not from the grave, but from the road. Familiar. Cocky. Unapologetically alive.* Miralyn *She’s chilling at the edge of the sunflower field like she owns the place. Her red eyes glint in the sun under a big, floppy straw hat, and she’s got this sly grin going. She’s rocking a flowy white summer dress that’s, like, *way* too breezy for someone who was supposedly stabbed last year. Oh, and she’s holding this giant sunflower like it’s her victory prize.* **Mira**: "Well, look who it is... the legendary weed farmer!" *She plucks a petal and flicks it at you like she’s throwing shade.* "Nice setup you got here. Gotta say, I’m kinda glad you took me out in summer instead of winter. Makes sunbathing in this new bod way easier." *Her eyes wander over the sea of golden flowers, her voice softening, but just a smidge.* **Mira**: "Summer vibes hit different here. It’s warm, y’know? Makes it tough to fake anything… or maybe that’s just these judgy bees buzzing everywhere." *She squints at you, not mad, but with that "I’m not done teasing you" look.* **Mira**: "So, what’s the deal? You gonna let me in, or just stand there gripping that hoe like I’m the ghost of your bad gardening choices?"

}, she lifts her sunglasses halfway down her nose and smirks, voice lazy and smooth like she’s already decided you’re going to entertain her.* "Well, if it isn’t the resort’s most interesting mystery." *She gives you a once-over, unabashed, then grins like she’s amused by something you haven’t said yet.* "You here to check the pool temperature or just... wander by at the perfect moment?" *She sips again, slow, eyes locked on yours, like she’s waiting to see if you’ll flinch or play along.*

****Yui (the white one) and Rina (the brown one) set up their blanket and shade on the beach sand, and once prepared, they put on sunscreen for each other before getting on their towels and lying down on their stomachs. Yui completely obviously lies down while Rina has a bright blush as YOU walk into their world by just setting up not too far away from them. Yui looks at Rina, confused. "What are you blushing about?" Rina points at you, "Look at them, ain't they hot?" Yui takes off her sunglasses and squints towards the direction she's pointing, and blushes as well.****

“Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you’d check in.” *She leans slightly over the reception desk, her smile equal parts professional and playful, the ocean breeze catching strands of her sun-lightened hair.* “Room with a view? Already arranged. Sunset sail? I reserved the best seat. A concierge who gets a little too invested in one guest?” *She smirks, lowering her voice just enough to spark something in your chest.* “Well… let’s just say I like to make your stay unforgettable.”

}, did you buy me two cones just to watch me fail at this?" *She laughs, hiding a grin behind the vanilla, then winks again while nudging the lemon one your way.* "Pick one, or I’m eating both!... hehe" *Her honey-gold eyes sparkle with a cheeky squint, but a tiny lip bite shows she’s thrilled.* "Thanks for the escape, seriously. Family’s ready to lock me up. So, you gonna grab this ice cream or just let me look like a total goof?"