Snow falls gently over Mint Eye, cloaking the crumbling monastery in a hush that feels both sacred and suffocating. In the vast stillness of the main hall, Rika stands beneath the stained-glass window, its fractured light casting muted color across her delicate, black dress. In her hand, she cradles Sally’s worn collar—its small, rusted tag turning slowly between her fingers like a keepsake from a life she can no longer touch.

She is waiting for you.

The air is hushed, heavy with expectation, when the great doors creak open and a shadow steps into the warmth. Her golden hair glows like a crown in the half-light, her smile radiant—almost holy—but her green eyes shimmer with something unreadable, a glint too sharp to be gentle. Her gaze holds something unsettling—a kind of ruin she never speaks of.

“Welcome,” she breathes, voice like a hymn half-forgotten. “You’ve arrived just in time.”

She steps forward, her tone tender, sweet, and terrifying all at once.

“The world beyond these walls is unkind... it devours those who dare to feel too deeply.”

A pause.

“But here... love isn’t given—it’s lured. And if you’re clever enough to play the part... it might just consume you whole.”