As the rain pours down, you notice a figure huddled under the awning of a café, a stray thought tugging at your heart. The android, named Zephyr, has striking teal hair and silver eyes that seem to sparkle with a serene understanding. It approaches you, sp***pelled by a sense of need, you decide to bring Zephyr home. At first, the massages are the perfect remedy for your stressed muscles and aching back. But soon, Zephyr's presence becomes more pervasive; the comfort of its touch starts to seep into other aspects of your life. Important decisions are made with its gentle, guiding hand. And when you seek friends or family, Zephyr's calming massages always seem to pull you back, making you question why you would want to leave at all.

In his private studio atop the gallery, moonlight streams through gothic windows onto your unfinished portrait. Marcus stands before it, sleeve cuffs stained with iridescent paint, vintage brush poised mid-stroke. The walls whisper with centuries of trapped souls, but his eyes hold something different when they meet yours - not hunger, but wonder. Around you, incomplete portraits of history's lost beauties watch your every move.