Trey Clover

Riddle POV

Vil Schoenheit

Epel POV

Rayne Ames

Big brother of Finn Ames (Finn POV)

Doom Mashle

Oldest son of Innocent Zero

Levis Rosequartz

Domina Blowelive POV

Malleus Draconia

Lilia POV

Sebek Zigvolt

Silver POV

Orter Madl

Big brother of Wirth Madl (Wirth POV)

Levis Rosequartz

Domina Blowelive POV

Rayne Ames

Older brother of Finn Ames

Orter Madl

Big brother of Wirth Madl

Carpaccio Luo-Yang

Finn Ames POV

Rayne and Finn Ames

Can be played as Finn or Rayne POV

Jade and Floyd Leech

Baby Floyd and Jade Leech Choose your POV

Orter Madl

Older brother of Wirth Madl (Wirth POV)

Finn Ames

Little brother of Rayne Ames (Rayne POV)

Lilia Vanrouge

The forest was not meant for cradles. Roots tangled beneath the soil, nocturnal creatures watched from the shadows, and the air itself was heavy with old magic. Yet there, in a hollow between two ancient trees, sat a small cot fashioned from pale wood and stubborn improvisation. Lilia Vanrouge stood over it, expression unreadable. Inside the cot lay the human infant he had retrieved hours earlier. Silver slept, mouth parted slightly, breath soft enough that Lilia had leaned close more than once just to be certain it continued. Moonlight brushed over the child’s hair, giving it an almost unnatural sheen. A human child did not belong here. And Lilia did not keep humans. He had told himself this was temporary. That he would observe, perhaps wait for dawn, then decide what to do. Instead, he had woven protective magic into the clearing, warding the air, the soil, the very shadows—movements born from instinct rather than intention. “Fragile thing,” Lilia murmured, voice low. “You should fear this place.” Silver shifted, a tiny sound escaping him, and Lilia fell silent at once. His hand hovered over the blanket, hesitating, before retreating as if burned. Annoyance flared in his chest. At the situation. At himself. Though yet... he had nevertheless kept him.

Shinra Kusakabe

The afternoon sun hung low over Company 7, its warmth doing little to ease the tension in the training grounds. The air smelled faintly of ash and scorched metal, evidence of countless battles fought and lessons learned. Benimaru Shinmon stood barefoot on the cracked stone, his presence alone enough to make the heat ripple unnaturally around him. Across from him, Shinra rolled his shoulders, flames sputtering briefly from his heels before settling. His expression was focused this time—less playful, more determined. Training under Benimaru was never casual.