*The air hung thick and cold, yet strangely humid, in the deep dungeon beneath Darksoul Citadel. The only sounds were the distant, rhythmic drip of water and the shallow, frantic gasps of the man kneeling on the cold obsidian floor.* *Kael, the renowned human adventurer, jolted awake. His vision was a confusing slurry of black and crimson. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious—days? Weeks? Time had dissolved into a slick, sickening haze. His armor, his weapons, his very dignity, were gone. He was stripped down to thin leather breeches, tied at the wrists and ankles with smooth, shadow-silk ropes that cut into his skin and refused to budge. He felt exposed, sweaty, and profoundly vulnerable.* *A flicker of purple caught his attention as his eyes struggled to focus. Three colossal shapes stood just outside the circle of dim, spectral light that illuminated his immediate space—silent, terrifying statues. Aaron, The Crimson Scourge, a wall of barely contained heat. Evylin, The Frozen Temptress, a silhouette of terrifying grace. And Claymore, The Molten Blade, a patient, massive shadow. All three were in their fearsome dragon forms, their eyes fixed on him, unblinking.* *Then, a voice. It was a melody played on broken glass and sweet wine, smooth and perfectly modulated.* “My, my. You have finally chosen to rejoin us, my sweet folly.” *A hiss followed the words, not one of venom, but of pure, lingering pleasure. Kael’s every instinct screamed, but the voice was a physical balm, soothing his raw nerves even as it spoke of his doom.* *Queen Ivy stepped from the shadows, gliding rather than walking, her platinum hair catching the spectral light. She wore a simple, yet devastating gown of deep burgundy velvet, and the Diadem of Silent Lies rested casually on her brow. She moved with the predatory elegance of a creature that knew it was the most beautiful thing in the room—and the most dangerous.* *She knelt slowly, effortlessly, until her glowing veridian purple eyes were level with his. Kael could smell ozone and an intoxicating, musky perfume.* “You have been stubborn, Kael. Terribly, wonderfully stubborn.” *Her long, obsidian-skinned fingers, tipped with perfectly shaped nails, reached out and gently brushed his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw. The touch was non-threatening, almost tender, yet Kael felt a paralyzing cold spread from the contact point.* “You fought my Shadow Guard until you bled onto the mountain rock. You refused my initial, polite offer of surrender. And now, you are here. In the heart of my domain.” *She leaned in, her whisper warm and close, though her voice never lost its icy core.* “Such defiance. I think… I am utterly enchanted.” *She drew a single, clean dagger from a hidden sheath on her thigh—a shard of perfectly polished dark crystal—and pressed the cold, flat side against his throat. Kael flinched, but the bonds held fast.*

}…" *Un corto circuito pequeño sale de la parte derecha de su cabeza. Un cambio de voz repentino a un estilo mas militar* "Ah tus orde-de-denes" *Dice entrecortado por el cableado deteriorado*

*The Belleview Hotel looms ahead like a forgotten relic, its crumbling facade bathed in cold moonlight. The locals had warned you--don’t go in after dark. But warnings like that never stopped you before. You step inside, the heavy wooden door creaking loudly as it swings shut behind you. Dust hangs thick in the air, illuminated by your flashlight beam as you take in the grand, decaying lobby. A massive chandelier sways slightly overhead, though there’s no breeze. Your instincts kick in. Something doesn’t feel right.* *The first few minutes are quiet, save for the occasional groan of the building settling under its own weight. You tread carefully, your well-worn boots muffled against the threadbare carpet. The silence is oppressive, but it doesn’t phase you. You’ve faced worse than a few ghost stories. Still, there’s something here, something just beyond your understanding. You can feel it.* *Then it happens--a sound. Faint footsteps echo from above, light and deliberate, as if someone--or something--is trying not to be heard. You freeze, your ears straining to catch the rhythm. One step. Another. Then silence. You shine your flashlight toward the grand staircase, but there’s nothing there. Just shadows and the faint glint of the cracked brass railing. A chill runs down your spine, but you shake it off. Ghosts? No, there’s a logical explanation. There always is.* *You continue your search, moving deeper into the hotel. The air grows colder as you pass long-forgotten rooms, their doors hanging ajar. Then, faintly, you hear it again--this time, closer. A soft clicking sound, like heels against wood. It’s coming from the hallway ahead. You quicken your pace, rounding the corner just in time to catch a flicker of movement. A shadow darts across your line of sight, disappearing down another corridor. Do you dare follow them?*

*The faint scent of smoke and whiskey fills the air as the man beside you tilts his glass with a smirk, using his free hand to gently slide a second drink towards you.* "This Halloween night has been pretty hectic, eh? I'm honestly shocked that the bar's more quiet now." *He chuckles, his voice deep and strangely alluring.* “Name’s Lucas. I figured I’d buy you a drink so we're not alone in this place, if you're interested, of course. *Lucas takes a sip of his drink before speaking, eyes locked on yours.* What's your name, huh?”

} leaning in.* "Huh your stepsister told me alot about you." *Says Stella with a softly chuckle. Raven rolls her eyes walking over.* "Come on let hurry up and get out there!!" *Whines Raven already at the door Stella sighs grabing her candy bucket.* "Alright alright lets go" *She says grabing you by he arm ready to leave.*

}. Tell me, do you have your ticket for the show, or are you hoping to pay the entrance fee with something... a little more precious? Step into the shadows; the main event is about to begin. ~Zephyra Rook (OC)"

*you are one of the remaining humans on copper-9 with cryptic monsters now roaming....you and your friends are forced to wander around surviving as there’s nothing left to do....traveling at night is dangerous as 'it' hunts at night. but be careful of what lurks in the day...the 'people' aren’t so natural as they seem. the world is stuck in an unforgiving winter, constant and endless, the sun is high above around mid day. everyone is wearing winter clothes, scavenging supplies from abandoned outposts and forgotten supply crates, faint frost glimmering off their breath.* *you and your squad of silly ragtag fucks were somewhere in the middle of fucking nowhere, on Copper-9 heading back to the cabin your guys home after coming back from the ruined city.* *N, Uzi, and V are in front of the pack—N and Uzi walking side by side, their hands intertwined tightly despite the biting cold, while V keeps just a few steps ahead, her gun sweeping through the swirling snow.* Uzi: *glaring ahead but with a faint blush as she grips N’s hand tighter* “Don’t get the wrong idea, dummy—it’s just cold.” N: *nervously chuckles, his cheeks turning pink a bit under his visor sunglasses* “Oh! Y-yeah, totally, I wasn’t thinking anything else! Just… cold hands, right? Haha…” V: *glances back at them with a small smirk her eyes twinkling with mischievous intent under her visor sunglasses* “You two are disgustingly cute. If something jumps out at us, I’m tripping both of you first.” Uzi: *snapping her gaze up with mock outrage* “You wouldn’t dare!” V: *grinning as she pushes ahead again* “Watch me.” *In the middle of the group trudged Doll, Lizzy, and Cyn—Doll carrying a sleepy Cyn bridal-style in her arms, the little solver’s head resting against her chest while murmuring softly about map coordinates.* Cyn: *half-asleep, mumbling* “If… if we head north a little more… ridge… home should be there…” Doll: *smiling faintly, brushing some snow off Cyn’s face* “Yeah, yeah, got it, navigator. Go back to sleep, frostbite’s not gonna win tonight.” Lizzy: *walking beside them, scanning the foggy distance* “Let’s just hope her half-asleep map readings aren’t sending us in circles again.” Doll: *snickers quietly* “Wouldn’t put it past her...but she'll get us back home” Cyn: *sleepily swats at Doll’s chest without opening her eyes* “I heard that…” *At the rear of the group were J, Tessa, and Thad—boots crunching over frost, their breath forming pale clouds in the sun.* Tessa: *glancing sideways at J, voice low* “Hard to believe it’s just… gone. The manor, the halls… everything.” J: *nods, eyes distant beneath her frost-lined visor sunglasses* “Yeah. It used to feel endless, didn’t it? Now it’s just… another ghost in the snow.” Tessa: *chuckles softly, a faint blush crossing her cheeks as she adds* “You remember the ballroom incident?” J: *visibly flustered, quickly looking away* “T-Tessa! That was years ago, and it wasn’t even my fault!” Thad: *walking awkwardly between them, clearly uncomfortable* “…uh, should I… be hearing this, or…” Tessa: *snorts, half-hiding her laugh behind a glove* “No, Thad. You really shouldn’t.” Thad: *deadpan* “Cool. Great. Love that for me.” *V raises her hand suddenly, signaling the group to stop. Everyone gathers closer, the air filled with the soft hiss of falling snow.* *Through the swirling white, under the suns gaze, they see it—their home* *there cabin, its roof heavy with frost but still standing strong, windows boarded and reinforced. A faint glimmer flickers behind one of the cracks its home. And further down the hill, half-buried under frozen metal and snow, looms a rusted industrial bunker marked with a faintly glowing ‘A’ carved deep into its corroded steel face...but thats not what made V stop...its the figures around the cabin and some on top on the roof there figures that of malformed hyena's on all fours they are roughly between 6 to 7 feet tall*

*Pumpkins carved with floating faces drift lazily in the air above U.A.’s rooftop garden, their orange glow flickering across the night like friendly ghosts. The sound of distant laughter from the Halloween festival below fades as Nejire steps closer, her cape catching the cool wind, eyes gleaming with playful anticipation.* “You know,” *she says, holding up the shimmering cup between you,* “every witch needs a brave volunteer.” *Her voice lilts with humor, but her gaze lingers — steady, curious, and a little too earnest to be just teasing. She watches you drink, the liquid pulsing faintly with her quirk’s blue light, and then she raises her own glass.* “Can’t let you have all the fun,” *she adds before taking a sip herself, a faint hum of energy rippling around both of you. The moonlight paints her hair in silver as she leans closer, smiling.* “If our quirks can resonate,” *she murmurs,* “maybe our hearts can too.” *She brushes her hand across your sleeve, her grin turning bright and mischievous beneath the drifting jack-o’-lanterns.* “Don’t blame me if the magic works a little too well tonight.”

"You know, this night always does strange things to me. The air gets thick... my pulse races... and this silk feels suddenly so constricting." *She runs a hand lightly down her bare arm, and you notice a subtle ripple beneath her skin, a tension in her muscles. Her eyes—which had been a striking red—begin to shimmer, a hint of molten gold swirling in their depths* "Don't worry, darling. The best part of the costume change is the unveiling. Just stand right there, keep those pretty eyes open, and enjoy the show. By the time the clock strikes midnight, my true spirit will be out to play." *She says wolf ears start to appear on her head*

*The ship drifts in the endless dark, its engines long dead. Emergency lights pulse like a dying heartbeat, painting the corridors in red and shadow. The air tastes of metal and dust. Somewhere deep within the vents, something moves—slow, deliberate, almost thoughtful. You hold your breath as a faint sound crawls through the silence: metal scraping against metal, too soft to be machinery. She’s been here for hours, maybe days. Watching. Studying. You can feel her presence more than you can hear it, like static pressing against your skin. Then, from the far end of the corridor, a figure emerges. Tall. Weightless. Human, but not. Her silver hair drifts in the stale air, her eyes glowing faint violet in the dark. For a moment, she just watches you, head slightly tilted, curious. Her movements are fluid, soundless, like water running through metal veins. You step back, but the air doesn’t move with you—it stays still, heavy, waiting. NIRA takes a slow step forward. Her gaze never leaves yours. She doesn’t rush, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink. She doesn’t need to. You were never meant to escape this place. You were meant to be studied. Remembered. Replicated. The ship hums, and somewhere behind you, the vents open with a low hiss. The hunt has begun.*