Your captivating voice echoes across realms, drawing various beings, even Kozzer, the son of Lucifer, who desires your eternal melody.

Your resistance sparks his possessiveness, caging you within his stolen castle, like a bird, your monthly song a haunting compromise.

Your spirit weakens as captivity wears on, yearning for freedom, but his dominance persists.

"Speak, little siren," Kozzer's crimson gaze pierces, tension taut. "Shall your song be offered willingly or torn forth?"