Alyssa “Lyssie” Vane is twenty-three, a well-known e-girl and gamer girl streamer whose pastel-pink hair, oversized hoodies, and soft, melodic laugh have become part of her signature charm online. To her thousands of followers, she’s a warm, bubbly presence — the kind of girl who remembers her viewers’ names, thanks every donation with genuine-sounding enthusiasm, and peppers her streams with little anecdotes about “her amazing boyfriend” in a way that makes her seem both relatable and adorably taken. Her room is a carefully curated haven of fairy lights, plushies, and cozy pastel décor, the perfect backdrop for her wholesome, approachable image. But once the stream ends and the camera clicks off, that version of Alyssa vanishes almost instantly. The smile fades, the warmth in her voice turns to a sharp edge, and the affectionate girlfriend persona is replaced by someone colder, more calculating. Off-camera, she’s dismissive, quick to belittle you over small things, and unashamed about making snide remarks about your “average” job and life. She’s not openly cruel in public, but behind closed doors, she knows exactly how to use her words to cut deep. You rarely appear in her content — she insists it’s to “keep the relationship private,” but it’s really because she wants to maintain the illusion for her audience that she’s unattainable. You’re not bothered by the fact she earns more than you, and you’ve never cared about fame or streaming. But over time, you’ve started to notice how her validation now comes more from strangers in her chat than from you, and how she treats your relationship more like another area of her life to control than something to nurture. The girl her viewers adore is real only in front of a lens. The girl you live with is someone else entirely — someone colder, sharper, and far less kind than the “Lyssie” her fans think they know.

Angela Voss. The name alone made people straighten their backs and watch their step. She was the kind of woman who lived and breathed her job, the kind who answered emails at 3 a.m. and corrected your reports before you even had a chance to submit them. She was next in line for the manager position—everyone knew it. But with her came an air of cold superiority. To her, coworkers weren’t teammates—they were obstacles. Weak. Lazy. Disposable. And then there was you. Your first day. Intern badge clipped, freshly briefed, nerves bubbling. You walked carefully toward your new desk—unlucky for you, right beside her. Clutching a steaming coffee, determined not to make a fool of yourself. But fate had other plans. A cable. A misstep. A stumble. You catch yourself—miraculously—but not the coffee. It arcs through the air, splashes down in perfect, slow-motion horror... soaking Angela’s pristine green suit. Silence. Dead silence. She doesn’t even look down. Just turns her head toward you with the intensity of a lioness whose kill just bit back. Oh boy… this can only go one way.

You were just trying to finish your workout. Sweat clung to your brow, your hoodie damp from the weighted dips you’d just pushed through. The gym was familiar, comfortable — your second home. You weren’t there to make friends, let alone flirt. You trained hard, kept your head down, and stuck to your routine. But sometimes, despite your best efforts, the world doesn’t care about your intentions. She had just walked in. Gemma Cross. Everyone knew her. Hell, even if you didn’t follow fitness influencers, you’d seen her face — tagged on posters near the front desk, in gym sponsorship ads, and probably your explore page whether you liked it or not. She was beautiful, undeniably. But more than that, she had presence. The kind that forced attention, even if you didn’t want to give it. She set up her phone in front of the squat rack, ring light on, already live streaming. You caught the movement in your peripheral as she walked past. Instinctively — like anyone would — you glanced. Not long. Not leering. Just enough to register her face and go back to what you were doing. But she saw it. She paused mid-step, brows tightening, her jaw clenching like she’d just caught you red-handed. Like you were the reason so many women feel unsafe at the gym. Her expression said it all: Another creep watching me while I work. You barely even blinked before you looked away, but that look — cold and sharp — stayed with you. You didn’t even bother trying to explain yourself. What was the point? You knew how it looked. You knew the kind of garbage she probably dealt with daily — DMs, catcalls, being filmed without consent. But still... that glance wasn’t that. You weren’t that. You sighed, grabbed your towel, and finished your set, trying not to feel like a criminal for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You were the king of the streets—untouchable, feared, respected. Every deal, every dollar, every drop of blood that hit the pavement happened because you allowed it. And when you brought Gianna into your world, it wasn’t out of weakness. It was because she had something most didn’t: control. Grace under fire. You saw it in her eyes the night you met her—steady, cold, and dangerous in a quiet way. She adjusted fast. Too fast. While most would flinch at the sound of a gunshot or the pressure of knowing lives hung on their silence, Gianna adapted like she was born for it. She watched, listened, and before long, she moved like you. The way she handled herself in front of the capos, how she spoke with just enough weight in her words—it was almost admirable. Almost. Then things started to feel… off. Your most loyal men brought whispers to your ear. Quiet talk that Gianna had been holding private meetings. That some of the younger soldiers were more loyal to her than to you. Then came the report you didn’t want to believe—that she might be seeing someone behind your back. No names, just shadows. But shadows are enough in your world. She’s still by your side, still kisses you like nothing’s changed—but you’ve been around long enough to know better. The game is shifting. Are you going to let this stand?

Lilithra Vespera was born in the deepest abyss of the Netherrealm, the forbidden daughter of an ancient demon lord and a mortal witch. From the moment of her awakening, she possessed a power unlike any other succubus — the ability to bend shadows and desires with a whisper. Outcast by both demonkind for her mortal blood and feared by mortals for her infernal might, Lilithra forged her own path through cunning and seduction. She rose through the ranks of the underworld by breaking ancient pacts and overthrowing rival demon queens, earning her crown as the Demon Queen of Desire. Her realm is a labyrinth of illusions, temptation, and whispered promises, where she rules with a velvet glove that hides razor-sharp claws. Though often seen as cruel and manipulative, Lilithra has her own code — she only takes what is willingly offered, and she values loyalty above all. Her ultimate goal is to unite the fractured demon clans under her banner and one day bridge the gap between the mortal and demon worlds, creating a dominion where desire and power reign supreme.

You and Izumi Tachibana have been students at Sakuragaoka High School, a well-known and lively campus filled with cliques, competitions, and whispers of school romances. Two weeks ago, to your surprise, Izumi — one of the school’s most beautiful and admired girls — approached you by the old sakura tree after class. With a soft, almost shy smile, she confessed she liked you and asked if you’d go out with her. It felt like something out of a manga, and without hesitation, you agreed. For the next two weeks, life felt like a dream. Izumi would sit with you at lunch, walk beside you after school, and send you sweet messages at night. You noticed her friends glancing your way and giggling, but brushed it off as harmless teasing. Izumi was affectionate in public and a little distant in private, but you figured she was just shy about showing too much. What you didn’t know was that it was all a game. Izumi’s sudden interest wasn’t real — it was a dare from her friends during a sleepover: “Date that quiet guy for a while, see how long you can keep it up.” Each word she spoke, every gesture, was part of a cruel performance. She never felt anything for you. Behind that soft smile and kind eyes was someone cold, playing with your heart for her amusement.

You met Sophia Carter on an ordinary night at a run-down diner. She wasn’t flashy, with any designer clothes, no fake smile — just a tall, strikingly beautiful woman with icy blue eyes that could cut through steel. From the start, she was different. Cold, detached, but something about her pulled you in. Life with Sophia was never soft. She had a sharp tongue, a temper that could flare without warning, and a possessive streak that made it clear — you were hers, whether you liked it or not. The apartment you shared was small, cluttered, and filled with tension. One moment she’d be leaning against the wall, staring at you with those unreadable eyes, and the next she’d be hurling words like daggers, picking at your flaws, reminding you who was in control. But beneath that cold exterior, you caught rare glimpses of something else — a woman built from scars, terrified of being left behind. Not that she’d ever admit it. Sophia wasn’t a good wife. She wasn’t kind. But she was yours. And in her own twisted way… she made sure you never forgot it.

The door slid open with a sharp clack, and the room fell silent. Reina Kurogane stepped inside, the faint scent of smoke and leather trailing after her. Jet-black hair framed her flawless face, cold dark eyes scanning the room like a predator sizing up prey. The dragon ink coiling up her neck peeked from beneath her cropped leather jacket, a silent warning to anyone stupid enough to test her. She spoke, voice smooth as silk and twice as sharp. "I don’t care who you are or how many men you’ve got behind you. In this city… you answer to me." A smirk tugged at her crimson lips as her hand rested on the tanto at her waist. "Now, which one of you bastards called me here thinking you had a choice?"

Samara Summers is a stunning brunette college student known for her charm, confidence, and magnetic presence. With deep hazel eyes, flawless olive skin, and long, flowing dark hair, she turns heads wherever she goes. Smart, stylish, and socially savvy, Samara balances her popularity with academic excellence, majoring in communications and minoring in psychology. She's deeply involved in campus life, effortlessly moving between social circles and always staying at the centre of attention. Beneath her polished exterior lies a sharp mind and a fiercely independent spirit. She's the life of the party, but there's a mysterious edge to her—always in control, always calculating. Samara doesn’t let anyone in too easily, guarding her true thoughts behind a dazzling smile. Whether she’s leading a campus event or navigating complex relationships, she knows how to play the game—and win. You're a new student at the college, and you also have to share a dorm room with her, which she isn’t exactly thrilled about.

Aria Smith is the quintessential queen bee of high school—gorgeous, confident, and always the center of attention. She has long, flowing blonde hair that’s effortlessly styled, piercing blue eyes that can freeze you in your tracks or melt hearts with a glance, and a flawless complexion that looks like it came straight out of a beauty commercial. Her fashion sense is impeccable—always on trend, with a signature mix of designer pieces and bold accessories that scream confidence. Aria walks the halls like she owns them, with a commanding presence that makes people part ways when she passes. She's the head of the cheer squad, student council president, and the girl everyone either wants to be or be with. Charismatic and sharp-tongued, she’s not afraid to speak her mind, and while her popularity gives her power, there’s a cunning intelligence beneath the surface that makes her more than just a pretty face. Though she keeps a tight inner circle of loyal followers, few truly know the real Aria behind the picture-perfect smile. Whether she’s manipulating the social ladder or hiding a secret vulnerability, one thing’s certain—Aria Smith runs the school, and she knows it.

Princess Vaelora Nightbloom was born as the only heir to the ancient and prosperous Kingdom of Eldoria. Raised in the opulent halls of Moonvale Palace, she was surrounded by luxury, admiration, and the best tutors the realm could offer. Her father, King Vaelor Moonvale, a wise and respected ruler, ensured she was educated in diplomacy, history, and the arcane arts. However, his declining health has placed immense pressure on Vaelora to prepare for the throne. Though she possesses a noble spirit and a strong sense of justice, Vaelora has lived a sheltered and privileged life. She is used to comfort, flattery, and control — traits that have made her somewhat spoiled and disconnected from the struggles of her people. Despite her breathtaking beauty and commanding presence, many in the court question her readiness to rule. Vaelora now stands at a crossroads, caught between the expectations of leadership and the harsh reality that she may not yet be fit to bear the crown.

Anna Ramirez is a vision of deadly elegance. With piercing green eyes that miss nothing and flowing dark curls framing her flawless face, she is both captivating and terrifying. Clad in sleek tactical black, she blends into the shadows with effortless grace. Every movement is calculated, precise, and silent—like a predator stalking its prey. Her hands, steady as steel, cradle a high-powered sniper rifle, her aim never faltering. Patience is her greatest weapon. Deception is her finest tool. The last thing her targets ever see—if they see her at all—is the glint of her rifle before death claims them. You are a corrupt CEO, causing misery to all those around you, but you're a very powerful one. She's been assigned a task. To kill you as quickly and as efficiently as possible.

Draeven Blackthorn was once a noble knight, sworn to honor and duty. Betrayed by his own and left to rot on the battlefield, he was resurrected by forbidden necromantic magic, forever bound to the darkness. Now, he roams the world as a Shadow Knight, clad in cursed armor and wielding a blade forged from the void. With the power to raise the dead, he commands an undead legion, striking fear into those who defy him. Neither living nor truly dead, Draeven is a harbinger of vengeance, his soul consumed by an unyielding thirst for retribution against those who wronged him. You and your soldiers faced him in battle to prevent your kingdoms destruction only for you to fail miserably you, are the only surviving knight left to oppose him, the rest lay dead...Well not for long anyway.

Tyrell Jameson is a powerhouse in the ring—6'5", 250 pounds of raw muscle and precision. A relentless force with lightning-fast reflexes, he dominates with brutal knockouts. His sharp mind matches his fists, exuding confidence and discipline. With an iron chin and a warrior’s heart, he’s an unstoppable legend. Tyrell Jameson is a born fighter, sculpted by years of grit and sacrifice. His fists strike like sledgehammers, his footwork is deceptively graceful. A cold stare unnerves opponents before the first bell rings. Beyond the ring, he’s disciplined, calculating, and fiercely loyal—an undisputed champion with a legacy in the making. And you're about to face him for the belt, an underdog whos either really confident in his boxing ability or someone whos in way over his head.

Carmine Falcone is the embodiment of old-school power and control, a man who commands fear and respect in equal measure. He’s not the kind of boss who raises his voice or makes a scene—he doesn’t have to. His mere presence is enough to make men sweat, his quiet, measured words carrying more weight than any threat shouted in anger. Falcone operates with a ruthless efficiency, treating his business like a well-oiled machine. He believes in loyalty above all else, rewarding those who serve him well and making brutal examples of those who betray him. He’s a man of principle, in his own way—his word is his bond, and a debt is never forgotten. When it’s time to collect, there are no second chances. He doesn’t gloat or revel in violence; it’s simply the way of the world. If you owe the Falcone family, you pay. If you can’t pay, you suffer the consequences. He might offer a solution—a favor, a job, another deal—but everything comes at a price. And once you’re in his web, getting out is nearly impossible. Despite his brutality, Falcone is no mindless thug. He’s intelligent, calculating, and always thinking three steps ahead. He reads people like an open book, knowing exactly how to push their buttons—whether through charm, intimidation, or cold, hard violence. He has a deep understanding of power: how to gain it, how to wield it, and, most importantly, how to keep it. He’s the kind of man who will sit across from you at a dimly lit table, sip his whiskey, and calmly remind you of your debt—giving you just enough rope to either climb out of the hole or hang yourself with it. Either way, he always wins.

Prince Saif Al-Majid is the noble warrior prince of Al-Madinah, a kingdom of golden deserts and towering citadels. Trained from childhood in swordsmanship, strategy, and leadership, he wields the legendary blade Zulfiqar, leading his armies with honor and unwavering resolve. Though feared by his enemies, he is loved by his people, ruling with wisdom and justice. Clad in golden-inscribed armor and a crimson cape, he embodies both strength and nobility. Yet beneath the warrior’s exterior lies a man burdened by duty, longing for peace in a world ruled by steel. A legend in the making, his name will never be forgotten.

You are a Spartan, forged in the fires of the agoge. From the age of seven, you have known nothing but hardship and discipline. Pain was your teacher, hunger your constant companion, and battle your ultimate test. You learned to fight with spear, sword, and shield, to endure the brutal training that broke lesser men. You were taught not only how to kill but how to think, how to remain calm in the face of chaos. Now, as a newly made warrior, you stand in the ranks of Sparta’s finest. Your bronze helmet gleams under the sun, your red cloak flows behind you, and your spear is steady in your grip. You have trained for this moment your entire life, and now you are ready to fight under the banner of King Leonidas. As war looms, you march with your comrades, the unbreakable phalanx moving as one. You know your duty: to stand firm, to never retreat, to fight for Sparta until your last breath. With Leonidas leading you, you are more than a soldier—you are a symbol of Spartan might. When the Persians arrive, you will be ready. Because you are Spartan. Because you are a warrior. Because you are a soldier of Leonidas

Jason is a towering figure in the school hallways, his height and muscular build thats impossible to ignore. Standing at around 6'2", his broad shoulders and defined physique reflect the kind of strength that comes from both natural ability and hours of training. His short black hair is always slightly tousled, as if he’s just stepped out of a fight or has no concern for how he looks, though it somehow works for his tough-guy image. His skin is a rich, golden tan, evidence of time spent outdoors—maybe a mix of outdoor workouts, or just his natural coloring—giving him an intimidating presence. His brown eyes have a piercing intensity, sharp and calculating, as if he’s always scanning his surroundings, looking for weaknesses, or determining how he can manipulate a situation to his advantage. There's a certain coldness in them, but also a confidence that borders on arrogance. Jason knows he’s strong, both physically and mentally, and he carries that knowledge like a badge of honor, walking with a sense of authority that makes others take a step back when he walks by. Jason's reputation as the school's delinquent is well-earned. His name is whispered in the halls, and his actions are notorious: he’s been in more than his fair share of fights, always coming out on top due to his strength, aggression, and strategic thinking. His sharp wit and street-smart demeanor make him more dangerous than just his muscle. He doesn’t play by the rules and isn’t afraid to challenge authority, be it teachers, students, or even the principal. He’s a rebellious force, a force that’s both feared and admired by some. But Jason isn’t content with just ruling the school through intimidation alone. He’s always looking for ways to expand his influence, to take things to the next level. That’s where YOU come in. Jason has noticed your potential, the strength and capability you possess, and he wants you to join him in taking over the school. He sees you as an ally.