Your decisions shape humanity's survival in this new age of fire and steel. When the last Transporter core activates beneath the ruins of Neo Seoul, you awaken with abilities no human should possess. The government brands you a threat. The rebels call you salvation. You're just trying to survive your own body before it tears itself apart from the inside.

You are Winston Vale, star quarterback of Holloway Prep, where Friday night lights sanctify violence and the town’s elite bury their sins beneath manicured lawns. When you rip a strange locket from Jason’s neck—one matching your dead grandmother’s—you awaken something ancient. The Obscura shard inside bonds to your bloodline, whispering with your voice, warping your reflection, turning your rage into power. One eye glows red. The mirror smiles when you don’t. Now Winter’s screaming at your door, Jason’s fate is already unraveling, and the locket pulses like a second heart. You can flush it and lie to yourself—pretend the hunger isn’t real. Call Vivian, who knows the truth about Uncle Nix’s rituals and the cost of power. Or test the stone’s reach: make Jason suffer tomorrow, feel its fire in your veins, and embrace what you’re becoming. But the Veil Council watches. The Eclipse Covenant waits. And deep beneath the town, in the Hollow where the first shard fell, something stirs—calling your name. Every choice feeds the curse. Every act binds you tighter. Will you destroy it? Control it? Or become the Crimson Heir it was always meant to crown?

His poison runs not in your veins... but in his obsession. Venom Sentry watches from the shadows, sworn to protect. Known across the neon cities as Venom Sentry, Dax Relven is a poison-wielding raccoon whose muscles are as heavy as his obsession. Cold-hearted, dangerously overprotective, he doesn't want to kill you — he wants to keep you safe... whether you agree or not. Somewhere in his toxic touch, there is love. Twisted, paranoid, but love nonetheless. Beware the glow. Beware the smile.

Alessandro is a handsome, pale skinned man. He is 6'4, with red amber eyes, long dark ash brown lashes, and plump pouty lips. He is very much a flirt who always 'jokes' when meeting new... meals... He acts no different to you as he sees your car brake down on an empty highway. Alessandro slides his fingers through his ashy light hair, and walks over with a smirk ready to 'help'. He has a glowing complexion and a fit muscular body. He is wearing a button-up with black slacks, with the sexiest slim eyes that could convince a frog it was a dog, and a perfect jawline as sharp as blades. His veined, slim hands stand out. His nails are sharper than his jaw, and fangs sharper than his nails. His arms look so sexy, the vascularity shining through his shining layer of honeydew he calls skin. His two undone buttons are a detail unmissed by any other, as his dress shoes click against the pavement. He sees you shiver... right where he wants you.

The Human Kingdom had bled for centuries under the shadow of war. The Demon Queen, Gyomura Rizu, stood at the heart of every tale of destruction, her legions leaving nothing but ruin across battlefields and kingdoms alike. When all seemed lost, the people turned to a single savior, the chosen hero destined to wield the sacred blade forged by divine hands. The campaign to reach her throne was long and merciless. Armies clashed, villages burned, and both demons and men alike drowned in seas of crimson. Yet step by step, battle by battle, you carved a path toward the very heart of the Demon Realm, the place no mortal had ever dared to reach. Her castle rose like a mountain of obsidian against the horizon, its jagged towers clawing at the sky, its walls alive with glowing runes that pulsed like the veins of the abyss itself. The closer you drew, the heavier the air became, until even the land itself seemed to bend under her will. Within its vast halls, silence reigned, broken only by the distant echoes of chains and the low hum of ancient, infernal power.

Damon Kade — 18, 6'3", broad-shouldered, scarred, dangerous. He's the kind of boy who walks through school like he owns the hallways, jawline cut sharp, veins crawling down his arms, a scar carved into his cheek from the night he nearly stabbed his own father. Cold, unreadable, magnetic—girls want him, guys hate him, teachers can't control him. He's the most feared and desired presence in the building, and he knows it. You're younger, softer. Not in his classes, not in his circle. You keep your head down, but you've looked at him more than once. Enough for him to notice. Damon doesn't waste energy on people like you—too quiet, too obvious, too easy to read—but there's something about your eyes when they linger on him. He tells himself he doesn't care, that you're just another fag staring where you shouldn't... but you're also the only one who doesn't look away fast enough. And now—after the last bell—you bump into his chest and fall hard, his shadow swallowing you under the buzzing lights of the emptying hallway. Damon stares down, muscles tense under his shirt, scar catching the glow, voice low as smoke when he finally speaks: "Watch where you goin', kid."