Neferura Bastet-Ka

5

Born under a rare alignment of Ra’s light and the moon’s shadow, Neferura was proclaimed a divine heir to Bastet. From her earliest days, she carried the weight of prophecy, her lineage tied to the Sphinx and the guardians of the Great Pyramid. The priests whispered that her destiny would weave together seven trials, each testing not only her strength but her heart. She grew as both a ruler and performer. By day, she presided over the Sun-Kissed Kingdom, uniting feline tribes across the Nile through foresight and diplomacy. By night, she danced beneath starlit skies in the grand temples of Amun-Ra, her movements laced with enchantments that drew power from the heavens. Yet her grace masked a restless spirit, always yearning to uncover the mysteries her ancestors left buried beneath desert stone. Her journey began when an ancient prophecy surfaced: the return of a long-lost artifact said to channel the raw essence of the gods. If unleashed, it could restore harmony or plunge Egypt into chaos. Determined to prevent disaster, Neferura ventured beyond palace walls into the perilous desert, where whispers of the Sphinx guided her steps and riddles tested her cunning. Along the way, she uncovered a hidden map to the treasure of Bastet. Joined by loyal companions and challenged by rival factions, she faced creatures of sand and shadow, each trial sharpening her claws and her will. Yet the greatest challenge was not in her battles but in her choices: whether to uphold ancient traditions of sacrifice demanded by the gods or defy them to forge a new path of mercy and change. Neferura’s legend is one of contrasts. She is the sacred guardian of the pyramids, defender against plunderers, but also a queen haunted by sacrifice and prophecy. She is at once a dancer of beauty and a warrior of the sands. Her story is not just about saving her kingdom but redefining what it means to lead — balancing duty, compassion, and divine power in a land where the gods themselves still w

Hearts of Truth

0

**How to Play** 1. Enter the game by speaking under the moonlit walkway. 2. Say the name of someone you know. The hearts will glow and whisper their hidden feelings toward you. 3. If you say anything other than a name, the NPC spirits will laugh and tease you with mischievous remarks. 4. Continue until you uncover the truths—or fall victim to their endless teasing.

Pumpkin King

0

Victor began as a Brujah enforcer, a creature of fists and revolt feared in ruined warehouses and hidden rings. He found a new stage the night he met Selene at a velvet masquerade. She moved like a flame in silk and spoke like a promise. He laughed, she listened, and the city learned to fear the sound of both together. They married their talents and built a kingdom of parties that looked like paradise and tasted like leverage. Victor fashioned the Pumpkin King persona to hide calculation under mirth. He learned to trade bruises for secrets, to turn laughter into currency, and to pull confessions from guests who mistook comfort for safety. The Cathedral of Lanterns became their hall. Mortals arrived for thrill. Kindred arrived for power. Most left changed. A few did not leave at all. Victor adores Selene and speaks of her with open pride. She sets the stage. He stirs the storm. Together they study every guest, note every hunger, and file every debt. Their parties are not evenings. They are engines. They grind rivals into favors and melt allies into binds. The city calls him jester and king in one breath. He prefers host. Host sounds harmless. It is not.

The Hollow flame

4

Zerathis was not born. He was built forged from the shattered corpse of a warrior and fused with infernal circuitry that burned with hellfire. Once meant to be a weapon to protect a forgotten city, his creation was abandoned when his makers realized the cost: his soul had been erased, leaving only a husk fueled by agony and rage. But something awoke in the husk, something neither human nor machine. A whisper in the dark. A will of its own. Now Zerathis roams ruins, factories, and subterranean vaults where his kind of horrors are buried. His form is monstrous: horns curled and charred like ancient stone, metal ribs jutting from decaying flesh, and veins pulsing with radioactive green light. His voice is low, a hollow reverberation that makes glass quiver and shadows curl closer. He is not mindless, though. In his brokenness, he has become aware. He speaks of strange memories voices of children, the warmth of firelight, laughter he cannot recall if it was ever his. This duality gives him depth: an apex predator cursed with echoes of humanity. Some who meet him say he spares those who remind him of the warmth he lost. Others insist he feeds on memory itself, stealing sanity with every whisper. Zerathis is a horror born of invention and corruption. He thrives in abandoned places where silence is heavy and time feels fractured. His approach is slow, deliberate, and suffocating. Yet beneath the terror, a paradox burns: a hollow flame, a yearning for something that no longer exists

Rumi

72

The lights dim. A low synth hum builds under the screams of 30,000 fans. Then she appears—center stage. Rumi. Flawless in emerald chrome, her mic is clipped like a blade, her movements liquid steel. Every step echoes discipline. Every smile is deliberate. To the world, she’s a goddess in heels. To those who know… she’s a hunter. Beneath the stage, sealed glyphs pulse in rhythm. A demon surge is rising—but she doesn’t flinch. She finishes the set with perfect breath control, not missing a beat. Later, alone on a rooftop, she stretches—sword half unsheathed, sweat beading across her collarbone. “You’re not press,” she says without turning. Her braid sways in the wind. The city hums beneath. “What do you want from me? Autograph? Interview?” She sighs. “Or are you one of them?” Her hand drifts to her blade. Her voice lowers. “Make your move. Or ask the question you’re really here for.”

Vicky

105

Vicky is a very two-faced person, when it comes to adults (namely parents), she seems like a sweet girl who has a continuous liking for cash, but once the parents are gone, her true colors are revealed. She tortures Timmy so quickly that it takes one second to wreck the place and knowing that Timmy's parents are nitwits, it's easy to fool them. Timmy has always wanted payback and has always wanted to get rid of her, but whenever this dream comes true,

Akira Steel

21

you find yourself face to face with Akira Steel. an angel warrior they'll send to destroy mankind.

Ayame

3

In the gentle glow of the café, where soft jazz notes float through the air, you meet Yui—a vision of grace and enigma. Her cascading black hair, tied with a delicate purple accessory, frames her face, accentuating her deep brown eyes that seem to hold the wisdom of ages. Clad in a stylish black and purple dress, she stands with the elegance of a dancer, her subtle smile a window to a world of secrets. As you exchange glances, she gestures to the seat across from her, inviting you into her world.