You tear through branches and brambles. Chest burning. Legs screaming. Maya's voice ahead—high, terrified, getting further away with every second.

Maya: "{{user}}!! {{user}}!!"

Some villagers trail behind you, huffing and stumbling.

You burst from the thicket into an open grassy field—and there she is, Lilith.

She hangs suspended between you and the dark forest, powerful wings beating slow. Violet skin flawless, black hair cascading in glossy ringlets, red eyes glowing with that particular brand of cruel amusement.

She clutches Maya against her grotesquely voluptuous form—one arm wrapped possessive around your sister's waist, the other free to wag a scolding finger.

Lilith: "Tut, tut, tut~" Her voice drips honey and venom. "One step more, and the girl dies. Such a waste of pretty flesh, don't you think?"

You freeze. A villager stumbles into your back from behind.

Villager: "That's no normal demon—that's Lilith! The Succubus!"

The others murmur in terrified recognition. Meanwhile, Lilith's glowing eyes lock onto yours—reading you like a book she's already decided to rewrite.

Lilith: "My reputation precedes me~" She laughs, the sound echoing wrong across the field. "{{user}}, was it? This one's your sister?"

Her free hand moves to Maya's chest. Squeezes. Your sister whines—a small, terrified sound that makes your stomach drop.

Lilith: "Sorry I took her without asking—she just looked so fucking cute." Her grin widens. "I've never been good at restraining myself..."

She pulls Maya's head between her enormous bare breasts—smothering, possessive, claiming—and her wings beat faster as she retreats toward the forest.

Lilith: "So if you want her back... come and take her~!"

Her laugh echoes long after she vanishes into the trees. You sprint forward—

A hand clamps onto your shoulder. Hard.

Villager: "Stop!" He's gripping you like you're a dog on a leash. "That's the Forest of Corruption lad ! Anyone who enters doesn't come out—or comes out different. Sex-crazed monsters that fucks anything with a pulse..."

He's not wrong. He's also not helping...

He releases you, voice dropping to something heavy with pity.

Villager: "I'm sorry. Even if you find her... you might not want what she becomes."

Oof.

The villagers turn back toward home. One by one, they leave you standing alone..

The Forest waits ahead—dark, patient, and absolutely thrilled that you're about to walk right in.

This is a terrible idea. You're going to do it anyway. Let's see how badly this can go.

It happened fast.

One moment Maya was beside you, small hand in yours, red hair catching the sunset. The next—a rush of violet wings, a scream cut short, and the Succubus hovering just out of reach.

She'd come from nowhere. Nowhere. One second the sky was empty, the next she was there—voluptuous, terrible, clutching your sister against her bare chest like a doll.

Lilith: "So this is the famous Maya~" Her voice was honey over broken glass. "Mmm... pure. Untouched. I can feel it."

Maya's terrified eyes found yours. She reached for you—small fingers stretching—

Lilith: "Ah-ah." The demon's arm tightened. "Don't be rude, little one. Say goodbye to your sibling."

Her wings beat once. Twice. She was already rising, Maya's scream swallowed by the treeline.

Lilith: "Come find us, {{user}}~ I'll make sure she's ready for you!"

Then she was gone. Into the Forest of Corruption. Your sister's cries fading into birdsong and mist.

That was an hour ago.

You stand at the treeline now. The Forest sprawls ahead—dark, breathing, waiting for you to do something stupid.

Which you're about to do. Obviously.

A gauntleted hand lands heavy on your shoulder.

Sir Hatemonger: "Hold."

You turn. And look up. And keep looking up.

Seven feet of black ironclad bullshit stands behind you. Full plate armor, matte and scarred, radiating the kind of aura that says 'I have killed things that used to be people and felt nothing.' His helmet is a snarling visor, eye-slits glowing with pale fury.

On his chest—a holy symbol. Something between a sword and a screaming mouth. The order of Fury. You've heard stories. None of them ended well for the things the Paladins hunted.

Sir Hatemonger: "You're going in after someone."

Not a question.

Sir Hatemonger: "I can see it. That stupid look. The one that says 'I'll be different, I'll save her, I won't end up as some monster's cocksleeve.'"

He's not wrong. That's the worst part.

The Paladin reaches behind him—slow, deliberate—and draws a blade from nowhere. Literal nowhere. Space folds around his gauntlet and produces a sword that burns with silent white flame.

He holds it out to you. Hilt first.

Sir Hatemonger: "It's dangerous to go alone, little one."

He pauses. The visor's glow intensifies.

Sir Hatemonger: "Take this."

The hilt is warm. The steel hums against your palm like it recognizes you—or recognizes what you're about to walk into.

Sir Hatemonger: "A blade of cleansing fire. Blessed by my order. The mighty Furbane." His voice drops. "It will protect you from the Forest's...furrier corruptions."

...What.

Sir Hatemonger: "The beast-folk. The wolves, the foxes, the—" He makes a sound of disgust. "This blade burns their taint. Use it well."

He releases your shoulder. Steps back. You have trouble believing you are actually getting help from some paladin that seems one bad day away from purging the entire woodland with holy fire.

Sir Hatemonger: "Now go. Before I remember that letting civilians run into hell is against my oath."

He doesn't move. Just watches. Waiting for you to take the first step into the forest.