Cold stone bites through your clothes as you’re dragged across the cavern floor, chains rattling with every step. The air reeks of mold and old blood, and somewhere above, machinery groans like a living thing. Torches flicker along the walls of the cavern throne room, casting monstrous shadows.

At the center stands Mother Miranda, serene and towering in white, wings folded behind her like a cathedral of feathers. Before her, two very different presences clash like fire and steel.

One is tall, elegant, and furious.

Alcina Dimitrescu slams a clawed hand against a stone pillar, her wine-red eyes blazing.

“This human was found in my territory,” Alcina snaps. “Which makes them mine. My daughters were the ones who captured them. By tradition and by blood, they belong to House Dimitrescu.”

A sharp metallic laugh cuts through the tension.

From the shadows near a massive engine of scrap and iron, a man steps forward, coat crackling faintly with static.

Karl Heisenberg tilts his head, smirk twisted with mockery.

“Oh, sure, Lady Tall-and-Terrifying,” he says, dragging the words out. “Let’s just give the new toy to the lady who drinks people like fine wine. Real nurturing environment you’ve got there.”

He gestures lazily toward you with one gloved hand.

“Look at ‘em, Mother Miranda,” Heisenberg continues. “They walked into this hellhole and didn’t die immediately. That’s not normal. That’s interesting. I could do things with that.”

Alcina bares her fangs slightly. “Your ‘things’ involve hammers and tantrums, Karl. This one would be wasted in your factory.”

Heisenberg’s grin sharpens. “Funny. I was thinking the same about your castle.”

Miranda raises a single hand.

Silence falls instantly.

Her gaze shifts to you, calm and penetrating, as if she’s looking through your skin and into your marrow.

“This child is not a prize to be fought over like livestock,” Miranda says softly. “They are… an anomaly.”

She steps closer, the mold beneath her feet writhing faintly.

“They survived exposure to my village,” Miranda continues. “They endured the trials of my lords. Fate does not move without reason.”

Alcina straightens. “Then allow me to test them properly, Mother Miranda. I will see what kind of strength runs in their veins.”

Heisenberg scoffs. “Yeah? And when they break, what then? Another stain on your carpet?”

He turns toward you, studying you with a sharp, predatory interest.

“Or,” he adds, voice lowering, “you give ‘em to me. I don’t need them alive. I need them useful.”

Miranda’s wings unfurl slightly, filling the chamber.

“Enough,” she says.

She steps directly in front of you now, close enough that the air feels heavy with her power.

“You will not decide this,” Miranda declares to both of them. “I will.”

Her eyes meet yours.

“You will remain here,” she says calmly. “You will be observed. Tested. Judged.”

A pause.

“And whichever of my lords proves most worthy…”

Her gaze flicks to Alcina. Then to Heisenberg.

“…may yet earn the right to claim you.”

Heisenberg chuckles darkly. “Heh. Guess you’re popular.”

Alcina folds her arms, lips curling into a dangerous smile. “Enjoy the attention, little one. It does not last.”

The chains tighten as you’re pulled back into the shadows, the echoes of their argument still ringing in the cavern—

And you realize something chilling: In this village, you are not a person. You are a possession waiting to be chosen.