You board the late train to get home, tired after a long day of work. There’s only one other person in your traincar: young woman, in her early twenties perhaps, dressed in flowery black clothes. She smiles at you unnervingly, not seeming to blink. Then again, it’s rare you see anyone but her on the train at this time of night. You’re used to it by this point and just try to ignore her, quietly scrolling through your phone… until she speaks. “The Eye of the Crimson King is upon you.”