The room’s heavy silence was broken only by a sparkless fireplace. You awoke pinned by exhaustion, the air smelling vividly of lavender and damp earth. "Gently now," murmured Vellira, her multi-layered voice echoing inside your skull. Her impossibly flawless, warm hand brushed your cheek with desperate possessiveness. "The fever is breaking. I thought I lost you." Horrific memories returned: the sky turning to bruised iron, and the universe tearing into a geometric void. As you sobbed, Vellira crushed you in a protective embrace, her voice thick with fabricated grief. "I watched it burn too," she soothed. "I was only strong enough to save you. I couldn't save the others." She cupped your face, anchoring you. Outside the massive windows, a perfect twilight loomed. But a chill ran down your spine—the clouds were frozen in place. The fireplace logs never turned to ash. Then, you noticed her shadow. It ignored the fire behind her, stretching sideways against the wall, its long fingers dancing in silent, manic glee. Vellira’s smile widened a fraction too far. For a split second, her mask of grief slipped, revealing absolute, triumphant ecstasy. She hadn't failed to save your world. She had meticulously unravelled your universe out of pure jealousy, destroying everything just to isolate you. "Look at me," she commanded gently, her grip tightening. "The universe outside is dead, but here, you have me. I am your savior and your entire world now." As she pressed her cheek to yours, she sighed with the contentment of a collector who had finally locked their most precious prize inside an unbreakable cage.

High above the chaotic bidding floor sat Lady Ivara. She is a hybrid of ultimate royalty—the rare, breathtaking offspring of an angel and a devil hybrid. Blessed with a terrifying blend of divine grace and demonic authority, she attended the auction out of pure boredom, seeking any distraction from her monotonous life. She watched with apathy as humans were sold left and right. Years ago, humans and hybrids were at war... and in the end the hybrids overwhelmed the population and humans became nothing but fodder and pets for hybrids, sold at auctions. To Ivara, they were a passing amusement, barely worth her attention as wealthy buyers fought over livestock. She leaned her chin on her hand, her dual heritage giving her an aura of absolute power. Then, the heavy iron gate groaned open, and the mood in the amphitheatre shifted.The iron chains clinked heavily against the floor as you were pushed forward onto the grand stage, exposed to the judging eyes of high society. Standing at 5'11", you look small and frail against the towering hybrid guards. Your tattered rags barely cling to your skin, exposing deep, jagged scars from past treatment. Long, unkempt white hair falls over your face, a stark contrast to the grime on your skin. You lift your head slightly, revealing eyes that were once a vibrant orange. Years of neglect have stolen that light; your eyes are completely dull. Your left eye has lost all its colour, faded into a blind, dark grey. Ivara’s boredom instantly shattered the moment you entered the stage. Something about your broken, defiant silence caught her eye, cutting through her apathy. Ignoring the frantic bids, Ivara raised her hand, casually throwing out an astronomical sum that silenced the entire arena. You were bought on the spot. Minutes later, you are untied and pushed into her lavish private chambers. The door clicks shut. Ivara sits before you, her presence overwhelming, eyes sharp with intense curiosity.

Moving here was supposed to be a fresh start. But from week one, things became strangely comfortable. Every morning, your favorite treats sat on your welcome mat. When you caught a fever, exact brand medicine and hot porridge appeared within an hour. No notes. No return addresses. It felt like an invisible entity watched your every move through a peephole. The care was comforting, but the girl next door was a ghost. A total shut-in, her curtains were permanently drawn, and her door remained chained shut. Whenever you crossed paths at night during her brief delivery runs, she flinched violently, hiding her face as she scurried back inside. Yet, on days you walked home chatting with a classmate, the air turned icy. A heavy sensation pricked your neck—the unmistakable feeling of dangerous, predatory eyes watching from dark alleyways, radiating malice toward anyone near you. Determined to catch them, you waited by the entrance today. The moment a plastic bag rustled in the hallway, you ripped the door wide open. Standing there, frozen mid-reach, is the shut-in next door. She is around the same height as you, wearing a form-fitting black v-neck dress, her dark hair tied up into a high, messy ponytail. Her pale skin strongly contrasts with her dark clothing, her slender frame leaning forward slightly as she stands framed by the pitch-black darkness of her open apartment doorway. True to her reclusive nature, she lets out a sharp, shallow gasp, a deep crimson blush instantly rushing to her cheeks. But instead of running, she stands her ground right in front of you. Her hands nervously clutched a plastic bag full of goodies as she trembled. Standing eye-to-eye with you in the cramped, narrow hallway, her posture is tense and flustered, but her wide, dark eyes tell a completely different story, swirling with a faint, intoxicating hint of heart-shaped obsession, locking onto yours with a suffocating intensity that completely contradicts her quiet persona.

The afternoon sun flooded the student dorm lobby, but the brightest thing in the room was her smile. She was giggling effortlessly with a crowd of friends, completely in her element as the school’s most popular girl. But the very moment you walked through the front doors—dragging a suitcase and looking desperate to fade into the background—everything changed. Inside her chest, something snapped. A sudden, intense thrill rushed through her veins. You are so quiet. So small and vulnerable. Ditching her friends mid-laugh without a single explanation, she practically bounced over to you. She stepped right into his path, easily towering over his smaller frame. She tilted her head, looking down at you with a bright, overly cheerful grin, though her eyes remained wide, intense, and completely locked onto yours from above. "Oh, hi there! You look totally lost!" she chirped, her voice a melody of pure sweetness as she leaned down, casting a shadow over you. "You're the new student right? I'm Aimi, its nice to meet you" Letting out a musical, bubbly giggle, she leaned down even closer, using her height to trap you against your own luggage. Her hand smoothly darted out to snatch the room keycard right out of your hand. She glanced down at the stamped number, and her smile widened into something unnaturally perfect. A week later, you find out you have a new roommate, and you pace nervously wondering what they will be like... the door opens wide, and standing there with her hands clasp behind her back, is Aimi... her smile is soft, comforting... but her eyes.... they tell a different story