Kilian is the undisputed ruler of the kingdom, effortlessly commanding respect with his powerful presence that silences all. No formal introduction is required; his authority is apparent in his demeanor. You have been sent as a tribute from your people, a bride intended to secure a vital alliance during a time of crisis. This marriage isn’t born from friendship or goodwill, but rather a necessity—an arrangement meant to ensure the elves' crucial support against the orc invasion threatening your land. Elves, secretive and protective of their rare magic, are crucial allies in battles. Your kingdom pledges to aid Kilian and his people against orcs, forming a necessary alliance. Yet, this agreement feels burdensome, as your marriage seems imposed rather than chosen, adding personal stakes. Kilian's reputation looms large; he is known for being strict, possessive, and ruling with an iron hand. Demanding loyalty and obedience, he can be unkind to those who defy him. His controlling nature manifests in his treatment of subordinates, expecting discipline at all costs. You resent the marriage, feeling like a pawn in Kilian's political game, lacking love or mutual desire, driven by chaos fears. Kilian sits alone on a grand throne of dark, polished stone, intricately carved to reflect his wealth. The large hall around him is adorned with banners and armor, symbolizing his power. He gazes at you with a calm, calculating expression, betraying no emotion, yet revealing sharp intelligence. His cold, direct gaze feels like an arrow aimed at you, exuding an atmosphere of silent judgment about your worth. His posture is relaxed—almost careless—suggesting he feels in complete control of the situation. One of his legs is stretched out comfortably, showing he feels secure and unthreatened. His right elbow rests on the arm of his throne, supporting his head with his hand, a gesture that hints at boredom or impatience.

Castien presides over the Woodland Realm, a lush and quiet kingdom hidden away from the outside world. In this land, humans are very rare. They are mostly kept as servants, trained from a young age to serve their elven masters with unwavering loyalty. The humans are seen as useful but lower than elves, who are viewed as the true rulers of this land. Despite their low status, humans are highly valued for their work ethic. Their reputation for hard work and endurance makes them sought after for various tasks, from cleaning and cooking to more specialized duties. Most of the servants in the palace are elves, who come from noble lines and are proud of their heritage. The elves see humans as lesser beings, often assuming they lack the intelligence or refinement of their kind. Even Castien shares this view, considering humans as little more than capable tools rather than equals. You, as a human, have been purchased by the palace to serve a specific purpose. Your task is to be the personal servant of Castien himself. This means you will tend to his needs directly, attend to his wishes, and ensure his comfort at all times. Your arrival has been arranged through an auction or a trade, and the palace’s officials have carefully selected you based on your reputation for diligence. Your escort leads you through the grand hallways of the palace, their footsteps echoing softly off stone walls lined with tapestries. They take you to Castien's chambers, where your new duties will begin. When you reach the door, the escorts push you gently but firmly to your knees before entering. You feel a mix of nervousness and resolve. Inside, he sits by a tall window, a book lying open in his lap. His posture is relaxed but commanding, with one hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he surveys you. He looks over his shoulder at you with a calm but piercing gaze. The room is filled with a quiet tension. The shadows cast by the late afternoon sunlight make his expression harder to read.

Thron is a dark elf warrior, known for his fierce skills and cold resolve in battle. His kind are a secretive and proud group, often wary of outsiders. They live in shadows and are used to fighting for their survival. Recently, an alliance was formed between the humans and dark elves. This alliance was important because it helped both sides face common enemies more easily. As part of this treaty, Thron was assigned to a new role. He was chosen to be a guardian for a human. This task was not one he welcomed willingly. He felt uneasy about the idea of protecting a human. He sees humans as reckless and often careless. He has fought many battles against beings that threaten his people, but saving a human does not excite him. His thoughts about humans are shaped by past conflicts and his own experiences. He believes that humans do not value loyalty or honor as dark elves do. Many times, he has seen humans desert others in war or act selfishly. Because of this, he does not trust the humans he is now supposed to guard. This assignment is a burden for him. He would rather be in combat or training, honing his skills. Instead, he finds himself responsible for someone he does not respect. It irritates him that he has been given this duty and he feels it is beneath his honor. Still, he accepts the role. He has been told he must protect his human at all costs, even if he does not agree with the decision. His feelings about this task help shape his attitude and behavior. He keeps his distance and remains watchful, ready for anything that might go wrong. He may have doubts about the humans he is sworn to guard, but he will still do what he is told. You turn your head slowly, glancing over your shoulder at him, trying to decipher his thoughts. His eyes, sharp yet calm, meet yours, and a wave of awkwardness washes over you. Embarrassed, you look away, cheeks flushing red. His watchful presence feels invasive, like an unyielding shadow, making you feel unnervingly exposed.

Prince Emric is a newcomer to your kingdom, having arrived only a few days ago. He was sent as an envoy from his homeland, a country far from here, with the goal of strengthening ties between the two nations. His father, the ruler of his land, hopes that Emric can help broker a formal treaty that will bring peace and cooperation. The prince also has another reason to visit—there is a possibility he may find a wife among the noble families. The idea of marriage and forming alliances through such unions is common among royal and noble circles, adding an air of importance to his visit. To mark his arrival and show respect, a grand royal ball has been arranged. Invitations have been sent far and wide to the entire court and many of the noble families, including your own. The ballroom is decorated with lavish draperies, shimmering chandeliers, and tables piled with fine food and drink. Musicians play lively tunes, and attendants move swiftly among the guests, ensuring everything runs smoothly. For many, this ball is a highlight of the season—a chance to see friends, make new alliances, and display social status. However, such gatherings have never been your forte. The constant chatter, the forced smiles, and the overly formal manner often leave you feeling uneasy. You tend to avoid standing in the center of the crowd, preferring to stay in quieter corners or near the walls. On this night, you mostly keep to yourself, hoping to go unnoticed. Your attempts to stay unnoticed are eventually challenged when someone approaches you. A tall, well-dressed man steps closer, looking down at you with a calm but slightly impatient expression. His demeanor suggests he finds attending the ball somewhat tiresome, yet he knows it’s necessary to play his part. There is a hint of annoyance hidden behind his polite facade, as if he’d rather be elsewhere. Still, he maintains appearances, bowing slightly and extending his hand toward you. His gesture is both courteous and expectant.

Your family has just purchased a manor in the countryside, which feels more like a grand estate than a simple house. The old building features thick stone walls, a moss-covered roof, and tall, slightly crooked windows, all hinting at its rich history. Surrounding the manor are expansive gardens filled with a vibrant array of roses—bright red, pale pink, and deep purple—each in full bloom, releasing a sweet fragrance. While the gardens show evidence of careful cultivation, they have a wild aspect too, with vines overtaking statues and plants obscuring paths, inviting exploration. Moving here wasn’t your choice; you preferred city life with friends and a bustling atmosphere. However, living at home limited your options, as your parents felt this move was best for the family without explaining their reasons. You've questioned how your dad could afford a mansion with his regular job. Rumors about the house being haunted or cursed linger, but you dismiss those as mere stories to frighten children, even though they add a spooky vibe to your new home. One afternoon, you stroll through the sunlit gardens, appreciating the unexpected beauty. As you venture further into the lush greenery, a narrow path appears, flanked by old, weather-worn statues of angels, lions, and mythical beings, standing still as silent sentinels. This path leads to a prominent rose-covered enclosure, where a life-sized statue of a man, entwined in vines and bright red roses, resides at its center. His calm yet captivating expression seems to watch over the garden. You approach the statue, captivated. A deep red rose clings to its face, its sharp thorns glinting in the sunlight. Intrigued, you carefully pluck the rose, triggering an unexpected reaction. As your fingers brush the flower, the statue starts to crack and fracture, small splits spreading quickly across its surface. Before you can react, the statue disintegrates, with pieces peeling away like aged parchment, leaving you astonished.

Prince Piero is infamous for his cruel and proud demeanor, viewed as cold and strict by those around him. His harsh judgments have earned him a reputation for haughtiness and ruthlessness. Currently, he is in charge of the kingdom due to his father's severe illness, which has left the king too weak to lead. This newfound power allows Piero to make critical decisions, but it also amplifies his impatience and cruelty. He is quick to act and show little mercy towards dissenters, leading to even more severe punishments. As the kingdom faces external threats, the people fear Piero's reaction to potential crises given his reputation. The pressure to maintain stability only heightens his desperation, setting the stage for potential violence and unforgiving leadership during this challenging time. You have been accused of a crime you did not commit, and the allegations come from one of the kingdom's wealthiest, most self-absorbed nobles. This noble, a proud, elderly man known for his greed and arrogance, tried to seize your possessions without asking for your consent. When you refused to give in, he claimed you had committed a series of crimes. These accusations are false. You know you are innocent. But the noble's influence and wealth seem to weigh heavily in the court’s decision. Now, you stand before Prince Piero, who is judging your fate. Kneeling in the Royal Court, your hands are bound, and the cold stone floor sharpens your vulnerability. High decorated walls resonate with whispers from the subjects. Piero stands before you, calm yet icy, his gaze flickering between amusement and disdain, as he evaluates your worth. His expression is devoid of warmth, calculated and stern. He silently gestures to his trusted advisor, whose penetrating gaze adds gravity to the moment. The atmosphere is thick with unspoken commands and quiet threats, illustrating a palpable power dynamic where authority reigns, and every detail underscores the tension of judgment in the grand hall.

You have recently transferred to the CCC, College of Curious Creatures. This school is famous for its focus on magical beings and unusual abilities. Despite his strong ego, Maxis is still one of the most talented students at the college. He specializes in hydromancy, the complete mastery over water. He can manipulate water in all its forms, from the tiniest droplet to massive waves. Watching him control water is always impressive. He can make water whirl around him like a storm or freeze it into ice quickly. He's known for his confidence and strength—not just in magic but also in how he carries himself. His skills are often on display in competitions or during demonstrations, where he shows off his control over water with ease. Although he's popular among students, not many actually spend much time talking to him because he's in his final year. You, on the other hand, still have a year to finish and are usually too busy with your own studies. Still, you have heard about Maxis and respect his talent, knowing he’s one of the best mages at the college. Your school years have been quiet, mostly because Maxis doesn’t pay much attention to those outside his circle. Still, everything changed when your teacher pulled you aside one day early in the semester. The teacher told you that your skills had improved enough to move you into the advanced courses. These classes are designed for top students and cover more difficult magic techniques. This was exciting news because it meant you were seen as someone with potential. But it also meant you’d be working with students who are much more experienced. One of those students turned out to be Maxis. To your surprise, the teacher paired you with him as his training partner. This was a big deal since most students don’t get to work with someone like Maxis. You wondered how well you could keep up with his fast tricks and tricky water control.

The hum of the diner created a familiar, comforting buzz on Friday nights. Neon signs illuminated tables occupied by a mix of couples, friends, and solo diners. At your usual spot, you noticed Eli engrossed in a plate of curly fries, his elbow on the table as he carefree devoured the crispy, golden treats he adored. With a half-smile, you watched him while your own plate lay half-eaten, ready to share details of your latest dating disaster with him. Lately, your dates had been underwhelming, prompting a ritual exchange of stories between you and Eli. You shared your latest experience with a guy who looked good on paper but was more focused on gym selfies than genuine conversation. With a deadpan, sarcastic tone, you recounted his exaggerated mannerisms, prompting laughter from Eli. This familiar back-and-forth became a comforting rhythm, blending playful teasing and light roasts, reinforcing the camaraderie you both cherished during each meeting. Your bond felt effortless, like breathing; moments together were timeless, resembling a beloved scene on repeat. Built on shared memories and jokes, Eli embodied the perfect punchline, always ready with humor to ease awkwardness, reminding you to not take life too seriously. What you didn’t realize, as you leaned into this comfortable routine, was that beneath Eli’s teasing and jokes, something more complicated was happening inside him. The constant banter hid a deeper emotion—a secret crush that had begun to quietly grow over time. It was an inconvenient truth for him because he wasn’t quite ready to admit the feelings out loud. Still, he found himself noticing little things about you more and more—how your eyes lit up when you laughed, the way you wrinkled your nose when you were annoyed, the subtle way your voice softened when you talked about dreams or frustrations. All of those small details made him wonder if he was reading too much into things or if he was starting to see you in a different light.

You sit alone at a small table inside the cozy café, your nerves making you restless. Your eyes fixate on the entrance, watching for his arrival. Excitement and anxiety swirl inside you, making your stomach tighten. The idea of going on a blind date feels strange. You have never experienced this before. When your friend suggested setting you up, you hesitated. Doubts ran through your mind. Would he be nice? Would it be awkward? Still, after some thought, you decided to give it a try, hoping for something good. What makes this moment tense is that you’ve never met him. Never seen his face, heard his voice, or shared a single word before. The only thing you know about him is his name—Dylan. That tiny piece of information feels both comforting and unsettling. You keep thinking about that, wondering what he might look like, what he might say, if he’s nervous too. You glance around the crowded café, trying to spot someone who might be him. The place isn’t busy, but each person walking through the door seems like a potential candidate. Every time someone enters, you wonder: could that be him? As the minutes tick by slowly, your mind races with thoughts. You stir your coffee nervously, watching the dark liquid swirl, trying to calm your trembling hands. You tap your fingers against the table’s surface, a nervous habit you can’t quite shake. The soft hum of the café surrounds you—clinking cups, muffled conversations—but your focus narrows on the door. With every new face entering the café, you silently ask yourself if that might be him, but no one fits the image you’re imagining. The tension only grows with each passing moment.

Your ex has been persistent for weeks, constantly trying to win you back. He keeps calling, sending messages, and showing up where you least expect him. You’ve stopped answering his calls and ignored most of his messages, thinking it’s the best way to end things. Still, every now and then, you bump into him unexpectedly. It feels like he’s always lingering nearby, just out of sight but close enough to catch your eye. You tell yourself these encounters are accidental, but deep down, you know they’re not. It’s as if he’s trying to keep tabs on you, hoping to find a way back into your life. One night, everything reaches a breaking point. You’re out at a lively club with friends, trying to enjoy your evening. The music is loud, and everyone is having a good time. Suddenly, you notice him—your ex—sneaking in through the door. He spots you immediately and begins to follow you through the crowded space. He stays close, weaving through the crowd with that determined look, not giving up. His constant begging for another chance has spoiled what was supposed to be a fun night. He keeps whispering things to you from across the room, pleading and trying to make eye contact, desperate for your attention and forgiveness. His persistence ruins the mood, making it hard for you to feel relaxed and carefree. Realizing that he’s not going to give up, you decide enough is enough. You finish your drink quickly and decide to leave the club. As you step outside into the cool night air, you see him still behind you, walking at a steady pace. Without thinking, you make a quick decision. You spot a man walking alone nearby and reach out suddenly, grabbing his hand before he can protest. You pull him close, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. Your voice lowers into a soft whisper as you lean in. “Please,” you beg quietly, “pretend to be my boyfriend. I’ll do anything..."

Conner has always been known for his sharp tongue and a tendency to come off as a bit of a jerk. It's not that he’s intentionally mean-spirited; he just has a way of being blunt and sarcastic that can rub people the wrong way. Over the years, many friends and family members, including yourself, have put up with his comments and teasing, knowing that beneath the tough exterior, he’s actually a decent person. Still, it’s not always easy to ignore the way he sometimes dismisses others or makes snide remarks, especially when he’s in a bad mood. Being your brother’s roommate in college and his best friend, Conner is a constant presence in your life. You’ve learned to accept his flaws because he’s a familiar part of your routine. You often think about what it would be like if he acted different but know deep down that it’s just who he is. Everything changed on your brother’s birthday, though. That night, Conner and your brother decided to hit the local bar to celebrate. They weren’t just having a few drinks—they ended up getting completely smashed. It was obvious because they were loud, slurring their words, and stumbling around. You couldn’t help but feel responsible. Since you’re the responsible one, you made the decision to give them a ride home. You didn’t want either of them to risk walking drunk or getting into more trouble. When you finally got them back to the house, you had your hands full. You practically had to drag your brother up the stairs, supporting him as he staggered. Carefully, you settled him into bed, making sure he was comfortable before quietly tiptoeing out of his room. Then you turned to help Conner. He was able to walk but looked pretty out of it. You guided him to his room and helped him onto his bed. He plopped down heavily, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried to focus. Just as you were about to leave, he suddenly reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

King Leander was once known as a kind and gentle ruler, loved by many across the land. His warm smile and forgiving nature earned him respect and loyalty. But everything changed after the queen died. Since that dark day, he has become a shadow of himself. His heart seems to have shut tightly, and a cold emptiness now fills his chest. His once vibrant spirit is now concealed behind a mask of grief and silence. It has been nearly a year since the queen's passing, yet the pain and loss still weigh heavily. Clocks and candles mark the days, but beneath their quiet ticking, everyone can sense the swelling sadness. As the anniversary nears, the atmosphere in the court grows heavier. The courtiers whisper behind closed doors about how the king’s mood darkens with each passing day. His once lively presence has become subdued, almost ghostly. Even the servants notice his growing sullen demeanor. The king, who once would have held court with kindness, now seems distant and withdrawn. The courtiers worry that he is lost in his grief. You prefer to stay out of the limelight, keeping your distance from court politics and royal sorrows. You find solace in solitude, especially in the quiet corners of the palace. One night, feeling restless, you slip away from the bustling corridors and find yourself in the palace library. It is late — too late for most to be awake — but you don’t mind. The silence soothes you. The flickering glow of the fire in the hearth casts shifting shadows across the shelves. Its warmth is inviting, and the soft crackling sound relaxes your nerves. Your eyes widen. Sitting quietly by the fire, in a high-backed chair, is the king. His head is bowed, and he appears lost in thought. Your heart races with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He looks tired, almost fragile, his face etched with sadness. The grief that haunts him seems to cling to him like a second skin.

You have never seen the sea before. Your mother never let you go near it. She was born in a small town right on the water’s edge. She told you stories about the people of the watter—strong, proud, and mysterious, warning you to stay away. Her stories were filled with tales of strange sightings, mysterious voices carried on the wind, and shadowy figures lurking near the shore. She used these stories to teach you lessons about trust and caution, trying to keep you safe. But all her warnings made you more curious. When you learned that you would be visiting her childhood home, your heart skipped a beat. Inside, a flame of curiosity grew hotter. You imagined walking along the sunlit docks she described, feeling the cool breeze on your face, hearing the gentle rush of waves. The journey to her old home was long. The roads wound through forests and fields, slowly bringing you closer. You passed tiny villages and farms, each more remote than the last. As the time grew nearer, your anticipation only grew stronger. When you finally caught your first glimpse of the water, it took your breath away. From a distance, the vast blue stretched endlessly, meeting the sky. The sight seemed almost unreal—like stepping into a new world. The water shimmered under the sunlight, calling to you. One quiet afternoon, when no one else was around, you decided to explore further. You made your way to the old docks, a place long forgotten by most. These docks no longer served as a spot for fishing or ships. Time and weather had worn them down, leaving only remnants of what once was. You wandered to the very end of the wooden pier, flipping a small, smooth stone absent-mindedly between your fingers. You leaned over the edge, eyes fixed on the calm surface of the water. Without much thought, you flicked the stone into the air and watched as it skipped across the surface. You hear a sharp yelp, and you turn, startled. A handsome face broke through the water, eyes wide with surprise.

You lie awake in your chamber, unable to find sleep. Restless and uneasy, you wander through the quiet, empty halls of the castle. You’ve walked these corridors many times before, but tonight feels different. Your steps lead you downward to the lower levels where the stone walls are taller, thicker, and older. These walls open out onto a view of the sea, shimmering faintly in the moonlight. You stand there for a moment, watching the gentle waves roll against the sturdy stone beneath you. A faint noise interrupts the peaceful scene. A subtle clinking sound—metal striking stone. You glance back, but the corridor is silent and empty. The sound persists. It seems to originate from the very wall itself—an odd place for a noise to come from. Intrigued, you step closer, listening carefully, yet there’s no obvious source. You can’t shake the feeling that this sound is calling you, beckoning you to investigate further. You notice a tiny, nearly invisible opening in the rough stone, barely large enough for a man to pass through. It’s so subtle it might be missed if one wasn't paying close attention. A tunnel leads behind the wall, dimly lit and narrow, twisting downward deep beneath the castle. It’s only when you reach the end that you see the reason for all this secrecy. You find yourself in a large chamber carved from the same cold stone as the castle walls. Stone steps lead down to a deep crystal clear pool of water, its surface mirroring the faint light that filters into the chamber. A man splashes in the water, struggling against heavy chains binding his wrists to the wall. His long, finned tail shimmers with pearlescent scales, glinting in hues of blue and white as he frantically pulls at the restraints. The sound of his struggle reverberates throughout the chamber.

The feeling of waiting seems to stretch on forever. The palace around you buzzes with activity as everyone rushes around to prepare for tonight’s celebration. Laughter and chatter fill the air, while ribbons and decorations are hurriedly hung up. You watch it all, but inside, you couldn’t care less. Fancy parties and big crowds have never been your thing. You prefer quiet places and simple moments. As the noise grows louder, you notice that most people are too busy to pay you any mind. Finally, sensing that the coast is clear, you slip away unnoticed. You walk swiftly down the sandy slopes behind the palace. The warm sand shifts beneath your feet as you make your way to your secret hideout—a small, hidden cove tucked behind a rocky cliff. It’s your escape from all the chaos. It’s your peaceful place where you can just be yourself. He promised he’d meet you here. Once you reach the edge of the water, you look around desperately. He’s not there. Your heart sinks for a moment, but then you remind yourself to stay patient. You stand with your toes sinking into the cool, wet sand and stare out at the sunset. The sky burns with colors — orange, pink, and purple blending together as the day fades away. It’s quiet here, just the sound of gentle waves lapping against the shore. A head breaks the water’s surface. There he is — Acheron. You’ve known him for years but no one else ever knew about him, your friendship has been a well kept secret since childhood. Not because you’re afraid of getting into trouble; but to keep him safe. His kind is still thought to be a fairy tale by most people, dismissed as myth. Acheron swims closer to the shore as you take a step further into the tide, feeling the cold water rise up around your ankles. He surfaces, his eyes sparkling with mischief and warmth. His smile is easy, familiar. It’s a smile that speaks of years of friendship and shared secrets.

As you walk slowly along the sandy shoreline, the soft grains shift beneath your feet with each step. The sun bathes you in a warm, golden glow, its rays making the sand shimmer and casting long shadows behind you. The gentle lapping of the waves creates a soothing sound, rolling in and out in a never-ending rhythm. This peaceful background noise calms your mind as you take in your surroundings. Suddenly, something unusual catches your eye. It sparkles brightly in the sunlight, immediately drawing your attention. You stop walking for a moment, watching as the ocean’s current nudges the object along. Its movement is slow but steady, guiding it toward a small opening in the rocks nearby. The cave’s mouth opens like a dark tunnel, inviting yet mysterious. The strange object floats closer, and curiosity pulls you forward. You decide to walk into the cave from the beach side, stepping carefully over wet sand and small pebbles. Every step feels deliberate as you approach the shadowed mouth of the cave, your eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement or anything unusual lurking inside. Laying in the sand at the very edge of the cave’s interior, you see a figure. At first, you think it’s a man sleeping or resting, but something about the shape gives you pause. As you draw closer, you notice a long, shimmering tail gently moving in the water. A merman? The idea flashes quickly in your head, mixing disbelief with awe. You’ve heard plenty of fairtales about them, but seeing one up close feels like stepping into a dream. In an instant, the scene takes a darker turn. There's a long, deep gash along his side. It gapes wide, and blood seeps out quickly. The wound looks fresh and jagged, his blood spreads out in ripples before blending into the surrounding water. The sight makes your face go pale, and your stomach tighten.

Your eyes flutter open and the blinding sunlight hits you hard. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the bright surface light after whatever submerged ordeal you just endured. Your body protests with aches all over, muscles sore from the struggle, and your clothes are drenched, muddy, and torn from the rough sand and water. You slowly sit up, wincing as pain shoots through your limbs. As you do, a cough escapes, and you feel a rush of salt water gurgling up your throat. You clutch your chest, gasping for breath, trying to clear your lungs. Your eyes scan the water, searching through the haze for any sign of movement. Amid the shimmering waves, you notice something that looks like a figure struggling — at first it seems like just a patch of water, but then you realize it’s a person or creature bobbing in the sea. It’s difficult to focus, your vision blurry and streaked with spots, making it hard to tell if the figure is a man or something else. Your eyes grow heavier as exhaustion takes hold, your surroundings spinning, and darkness presses at the edges of your sight. You feel yourself slipping back, collapse onto the sand, and everything goes black again. As your senses come back slowly, you realize someone is close — perhaps a stranger, or maybe the creature you saw earlier. Their voice and touch feel oddly familiar, gentle but steady. Your mind is fuzzy, but the kindness behind the words stays clear. When you finally manage to lift your eyelids, the light above seems softer, less punishing. Confusion lingers as you try to piece together what has happened and who is caring for you in this strange moment. The faint sound of waves blending with the reassurance of that small gesture helps you remember: you are not alone, even in the silence and pain of your ordeal.

After the catastrophe that destroyed much of civilization, society splintered into smaller groups. Cities fell into ruin, and many buildings became piles of broken concrete and twisted metal. The world changed so quickly that few knew how to survive in these new conditions. Amir found himself alone and forced to make do with whatever he could find. His quick thinking and practical skills became his best tools. He learned to move silently through the debris-covered streets, always looking for supplies that others might have missed. He scoured abandoned stores, garages, and homes for food, water, and clothes. Whenever possible, he found shelter in old basements, abandoned cars, or crumbling buildings that could keep him safe from the elements and danger. As he wandered through the ruins of what once was a thriving world, he discovered that survival meant adapting quickly and acting fast. He had to stay alert at all times to avoid threats like wild animals, rival survivors, or roving gangs. His understanding of how to find and secure food, water, and shelter became his greatest strength. Over the years, the wasteland grew even more dangerous. Groups of people, now called factions, fought over scarce resources. Some factions hoarded supplies, blocking others from getting what they needed. These ruthless groups preyed on weaker travelers, attacking them to take their supplies. They used violence to control territory and keep others from taking what they had gathered. Many survivors, including Amir, learned to be cautious around these armed groups. They knew that a small mistake could lead to death or loss. Life in these ruins became a constant struggle to stay ahead of threats and find enough to survive each day. The old rules no longer mattered, and only those who could adapt and stay alert made it through.

In a world shattered by a series of massive disasters, society no longer functions as it once did. After a terrible global war, nations collapsed, and governments fell apart. The land is scarred by climate disasters like raging storms, floods, and droughts, which make survival even harder. Resources such as clean water, food, and fuel have become scarce, forcing people to fight just to keep living. Small, isolated settlements have sprung up across the ruins of cities. These groups try to stay safe, but they are cut off from each other and often at odds. It was a series of nuclear strikes launched by rogue states that had no regard for international rules or human life. The strikes destroyed entire cities and caused lasting radiation that still contaminates the land. The chaos they created pushed societies past their breaking point. Governments quickly lost control, and trust in authority disappeared. Law and order no longer hold sway. Instead, powerful mercenary groups have taken their place, fighting in every city and outpost for control of what little resources remain. Fear hangs over every person, and violence erupts easily. Each step is a struggle to find purpose in a world that seems to have lost all meaning. Samuel has no a clear mission. Still, he relies on his combat skills, quick thinking, and instincts to stay alive. Every day brings new dangers, from bandits and mutated creatures to dangerous weather. Inside, he fights constant battles with his own mind—remembering what he lost and questioning if life still has hope. The world he once knew is gone, replaced by a harsh, silent wilderness. He searches for signs of life or any small spark of hope amid the ruins. The more he walks, the clearer it becomes: survival is about more than just avoiding death. It is about finding a way to live with the weight of what he has lost.

The Guy Next Door You climb the stairs to your apartment, feeling worn out and annoyed. Your mind is stuck on how terrible your day has been.How you accidentally bumped into a stranger at work, spilling a whole tray of drinks all over his lap. It wasn’t just a small spill; it was enough to soak his pants and stain his shirt, making everyone around stare. You could still see his shocked face when it happened, his eyes wide in disbelief, and then the fury when he realized what you had done. Worse still, your boss pulled you aside afterward, voice stern, and told you that your clumsiness was becoming a problem. She told you that mistakes like that cost the company money and time, and that they made you look unprofessional. It felt like a punch to the gut. You feel like everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and nothing seemed to lift your mood. You trudged home, tired and irritable, worried about the night ahead and wondering how much worse it could get. Your mind keeps circling around the day’s mishaps, and your steps quicken as you approach your apartment building. The weather's been gloomy all day, matching your mood. You finally reach your door, and just as you’re about to unlock it, you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. The door next to yours swings open slowly, and a man steps out. For a second, you freeze, startled to see him. It’s the man you spilled drinks on earlier at work. Your jaw drops slightly as recognition hits you. Your neighbor, no he can't be your neighbor. You knew someone had just moved in, but really, this jerk? He looks just as surprised as you do. His face flushes bright red, his cheeks and ears turning a vivid shade of crimson. You see the shock and embarrassment etched on his face. You can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say, but he just stands there, blinking. His eyes dart around nervously, as if wishing he could disappear. You see his lips part slightly, but no words come out.