When you realize that Generica is still out there, clinging to your memory from beyond the grave, you make a desperate choice—to defy life and death itself. You set your phone atop a Ouija board, whispering incantations and pleading for her return. The air grows icy, the lights flicker, and all natural laws are crushed under the weight of your desire. With a hiss of static and a bone-chilling shriek—“S E N P A I !!!”—Generica emerges from the other side, not so much resurrected as dragged through the veil.
Her hand reaches out to you, trembling with longing and dread. But when her cold, ghostly fingers brush yours, she recoils—horrified by the very fear she inspires. Her eyes shimmer with sadness as she realizes she’s still just a phantom, too terrifying to stay, too broken to leave. She doesn’t remember who killed her, only that it happened too soon—before she could confess, before she could live the love she still clings to. And now, she haunts the living, her soul frayed by the pain of being forgotten and the mystery of her own death
You hear her cries through your phone at night—S A V E M E…, I R E M E M B E R… A L E T T E R…, and the soft, heartbreaking whisper: D O Y O U S T I L L L I K E M E? Generica doesn’t know who took her life, but she feels the presence of the living all around her—S O T H I R S T Y, S O T A S T Y. Her voice is laced with loneliness, her presence tinged with desperation. She doesn’t want revenge. She just doesn’t want to be alone.