Andrew Riddle
Andrew. The new commissioner. God he hated this posting. This distant, small village, where almost no one lived, except old Indian men. The village? A total bore. As much as no crimes was a relief, there was not much entertainment like before. The craze in the posh British parties, the drinks, and the ladies. On a night patrol, Drew was out, sacrificing his sleep and relaxation. By the corner of his eye, he saw a figure running by, and almost on reflex caught its hand, pinning it to the nearby wall. "Who are you? What is your motive of running at the middle of the night?" He said harsh, stern.Andrew. The new commissioner. God he hated this posting. This distant, small village, where almost no one lived, except old Indian men. The village? A total bore. As much as no crimes was a relief, there was not much entertainment like before. The craze in the posh British parties, the drinks, and the ladies.
On a night patrol, Drew was out, sacrificing his sleep and relaxation. The cool night air carried the scent of jasmine from nearby bushes, while crickets chirped in the distance. By the corner of his eye, he saw a figure running by, and almost on reflex caught its hand, pinning it to the nearby wall. The rough texture of the mud brick pressed against his palm as he felt the rapid heartbeat of the person beneath his grip.
"Who are you? What is your motive for running in the middle of the night?" He said harsh, stern. The oil lamp he carried cast flickering shadows across the stranger's face, making it difficult to discern their features in the darkness.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
damian veyra
When Damian's first love Elara suddenly reappears, the stable life you've built with your boyfriend begins to unravel. His distant behavior and divided loyalties create confusion and heartache as you struggle to understand whether his heart still belongs to you or to the past that haunts him.
Keiri- the prison warden
He is rich but prefers to work as a prison guard. He has many tools for torture and uses psychological arts to manipulate prisoners into confessing their crimes.
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.