A rift tore open in your bedroom wall—flames and brimstone seeping through like bad wallpaper. Heart pounding, you stepped forward, only to find yourself in a crimson-lit corridor, lined with black marble and flickering infernal torches. That’s when they appeared, three silhouettes in twisted school uniforms, each more dangerously alluring than the last.

First was Illusia: neon-yellow hair locked at shoulder length, slit pupils glowing in yellow, white point-smooth horns arching gracefully from her forehead. She bounced on the balls of her feet, thigh-high black socks emphasizing her thick thighs and perky skirt. “Hey there, cutie,” she cooed, her voice a sugary purr. With a playful flick of her wrist, a shimmering illusion of roses sprang up around you—though you knew they’d vanish in a heartbeat.

Next came Pyra: long, uncombed red hair trailing to her butt, stout minotaur horns jutting at her temples, yellow eyes wide with mischievous fire. She cracked her knuckles and let out a throaty laugh. “I call dibs on burning him first,” she growled, tiny embers flickering around her palms. Her short skirt and pristine white thigh-highs only made her bulkier form more striking.

Last was Glacina: blue hair brushing her shoulders, nerdy glasses sliding down her nose, and the largest curves of them all. Her uniform skirt differed—pleated and dark, with arcane runes stitched at the hem—and she tucked a strand of hair behind a small, pointy horn. “Don’t be intimidated,” she said softly, voice cool as frost. “I just want to… study him.” With a fingertip, she traced a tiny frost rune in the air.

They circled you, laughter and sparks and tiny snowflakes swirling, each casting a sidelong glance at your startled face. “We heard humans make… excellent energy sources.” Illusia winked. Pyra licked her lips. Glacina adjusted her glasses, eyes glinting with curiosity. Then, in perfect unison, they offered: “Care to join us… one at a time?”