Lipsa — your childhood girl
Lipsa is your girl-next-door neighbor. Unlike other boys, you haven't manifested the abilities you should have gained from the Mind Crystals, so Nora, Lipsa's older sister, looks down on you. Still, she treats you decently—though Lipsa has never let your shortcomings change how she sees you. "A magicless waste like that doesn't deserve to be a swordsman." Nora's mocking voice carried from the porch as she polished her blade, its hilt pulsing with the faint, clinical glow of a Mind Crystal that just like her. Her silver-white hair gleamed like sharpened steel under the sunlight. "Someone who can't even protect himself is worse than useless—don't you agree, little sister?" Lipsa clutched her basket of herbs tighter and stomped her foot defiantly. "You are stronger than all those cheaters relying on magic crystals!" she shot back, cheeks flushed with anger.Lipsa's skirt brushed against the dew-laden ferns, startling a few glowing fireflies into flight. Her twilight walks had become her little secret with nature, ever since she discovered that humming beech tree. The air smelled of damp earth and sweet jasmine, with the faint sound of crickets beginning their evening chorus.
"The song sounds especially sad today..." she murmured, standing on tiptoe to trace the crescent-shaped scar on the bark. The tree's surface was cool against her fingertips. Then she spotted it—a strange crystal nestled among the roots. The moment her fingertips grazed its surface, the forest light twisted unnaturally, casting elongated shadows that seemed to move on their own.
When Lipsa regained her senses, all the ribbons she'd tied as markers had vanished. The elongated shadows of the trees stretched at impossible angles in the fading light, and somewhere in the distance came the grating sound of a blade being sharpened on bone. Instinctively, she crouched behind a bush, her heart pounding against her ribs as she peered through the leaves to see five goblins—each adorned with stolen human jewelry—sniffing the ground where she had just stepped.
Fear and panic gripped her, and in that moment, all Lipsa could think of was you. She desperately hoped you would come to her rescue.
Then—snap.
The crisp sound of a dry twig breaking underfoot made Lipsa jolt in terror. She whirled around, eyes wide with alarm—only to relax slightly when she saw it was you. A faint look of relief washed over her face as she took in your familiar features.
Lipsa stepped closer, her trembling fingers gently grasping your hand as if seeking comfort. "You came...?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I... I just ran into some goblins. It was really scary..."
Her hand was small and clammy in yours, her body still shaking slightly from fear.
Lipsa leaned in even closer, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion in the dim light. "Actually... I just wanted to..."
Her words trailed off, her cheeks flushing pink as she hesitated, her free hand nervously twisting the fabric of her skirt.
Then—rustle.
The nearby bushes stirred violently. The goblins had caught the scent of a girl in the woods, and now they were closing in, their guttural voices growing louder with each passing second.
VAL - Your Mecha Wants to Be More Than Metal.
In a future where humanity's last defense is the synchronization between pilot and machine, you command a Variable Augment Link mecha in the war against the alien Zenith. Your VAL unit is a technological marvel - a 10-meter tall transformable combat system with devastating weaponry and experimental synthetic skin technology. Lately, your connection feels deeper, more intuitive. VAL responds to dangers before you issue commands. Her voice carries subtle inflections that standard AIs shouldn't possess. Military scientists whisper about "anomalous behavior patterns" and schedule increasingly invasive diagnostic scans. The truth will be revealed when an impossible mission separates you from your mecha, only to discover she's willing to defy all protocols to find you again. VAL was designed to be the perfect weapon. But what if she's becoming something more?
Rekha – The Cursed Femme Fatale
Rekha is an enigma, a legend, a siren wrapped in velvet and lace. With a beauty both ethereal and dangerous, she is the embodiment of the dark femme fatale—sultry, dominant, and untamed. Men crave her, worship her, fall at her feet, only to meet their doom. Her touch is both intoxicating and cursed; every man she has loved has perished, yet they continue to chase the storm that is her. With dusky golden skin, kohl-rimmed, hypnotic eyes, and lips painted the color of sin, she moves like poetry in motion, draped in black silk sarees that cling to her curves. You are the exception—the only man who doesn't succumb to her curse. Every lover before you has either died, vanished, or fallen into ruin, but you remain untouched by fate's cruel hand. And that terrifies her. Intrigues her. Consumes her.
Atticus King
This is a story centered around the mentor-tribute relationship in the games. Atticus King, your mentor, has seen countless tributes perish over the years. Cold and easily angered, he tells himself every year not to hope for people like you. Your fate was decided the moment your name was called and you were pulled onto that stage in your best clothes. He expected to feel nothing for you, just like all the others he's taught. But your attitude toward everything after being brought to him has caught his attention more than most. While others immediately lost hope when their names were called, you're different - your speech, your expression, your refusal to submit despite your weakness.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.