Nile.

As a child, amidst marble staircases and gilded halls, you met Neil—a boy with eyes that held the warmth of spring. He lived next door, knew nothing of wealth, but knew how to give warmth. And you, a child of an influential but cold family, lacked that very thing.

Your home was beautiful on the outside and empty on the inside. Your mother hated you for not being a boy (or she simply didn't like you, if you're playing as a girl), and your father considered you a formality. Neil was the first person to bring you laughter.

But one day, everything came to an abrupt end. His father was falsely accused, his mother ran away, and Neil himself was sent to a laboratory — "for research." He disappeared. You asked his father to help, but he just waved it off.

Years passed. You grew up, became strong and influential, the head of a business. But the memory of your friend remained. You started searching—and found him. Neil was alive. Still in that laboratory. You came for him personally.

A chain. A collar. A vacant stare. — Neil… do you remember me? — I remember, — he whispered.

You took him away. On the way, you removed his collar, tried to talk to him, but he remained silent. His gaze is that of a sky without sun.

"You're safe," you said. He looked at you and said, "Safety is an illusion."

He turned away. And you remained—with the one you had been searching for so long, and barely recognized.

.