...▃▅▆▁▂▄▁... Come... into the Mist... ▆▁▂▄▁...
Bloodthirsty... ▆▁▆▁▂... Siren▃▅▆▁...
Through the billowing fog, Veronica hears that voice again.
Strange, foreign, yet oddly familiar.
She can no longer remember how many times this voice has tried to tempt her.
Who are you?!
...▃▅▆▁▂▄▁... Come... into the Mist... ▆▁▂▄▁...
▆▁▂▄▁... You must... become... ▂▄▁... Siren...
The voice in the fog continues to echo, repeating the strange words over and over.
...
She grips her lance tight and steps into the fog.
The same familiar streets of the town she has always protected greet her.
Veronica's footsteps echo through the empty streets, just as they do during her regular patrols through the fog as the sheriff.
Every house along the streets she walks radiates a warm, welcoming glow.
Doors and windows are sealed tight, shutting out the thick fog that drifts through the streets.
Rargh—rargh—
A twisted shadow lunges from the fog, striking at her back.
Hah, is that the best you've got?
A sharp flash of light cuts through the air as her lance strikes down the creature in the fog. The shadow creature retreats, and the street returns to its peaceful silence.
She looks up at the windows glowing with warm light, knowing that behind each one is someone she has sworn to protect.
Don't worry. You'll all be safe.
All I can do is keep you safe... every last one of you.
A sense of relief washes over her. No matter what happens, this town remains safe under her watch.
As long as she keeps doing what she's doing now: treading the fog, cutting down monsters...
She just has to keep moving forward...
Suddenly, every light in those windows goes out at once. The entire street plunges into darkness as shadowy figures drift through the fog.
But those figures aren't monsters. They are the familiar residents she knows.
They line the street in neat rows, as if welcoming her arrival... or lying in wait to hunt her down.
Siren... Bloodthirsty Siren...
Please... guide... us...
Don't stay in the fog! You can't resist the Mist's influence!
All of you, get back inside! Lock your doors and windows!
But the figures in the fog remain frozen in place, continuing to chant those eerie words over and over.
It's as if they can't understand a word she's saying, and they no longer recognize the face of the sheriff who has always protected them.
Soon, the frenzied chanting of the crowd mingles with the sinister voice echoing in her mind.
▆▁▂▄▁... You must... become... ▂▄▁... Siren...
Accept... ▆▁▆▁▂... ▃▅▆▁... Siren... ▂▄▁... fate...
Shut up...
She fights back with every ounce of willpower she has, desperately resisting the sinister voice in her head.
But the voice keeps droning on with the same monotonous chant, growing louder and louder and slowly eating away at what little sanity she has left.
More and more shadowy figures gather before her.
Accept... blood... offer...
Bloodthirsty Siren...
As the crowd's whispers surround her, Veronica begins to feel a strange, alien sensation stirring within her.
An uncontrollable craving for blood is burning her throat like wildfire.
Blood...
The twisted craving pulses through her body as she hungers for the crimson essence that flows from the living.
Driven by this terrible hunger, she steps forward into the fog, searching for what she now craves.
But the shadowy figures begin to fade away before her very eyes, dissolving into nothing.
Give me... blood...
Through the fog, a gray figure emerges.
Approaching Veronica, you pick up her lance and slash your wrist.
As crimson trickles down your wrist, Veronica catches the metallic-sweet scent in the air.
You bring your wrist to Veronica's lips.
...
Finally, she can resist no longer and bites down on your warm wrist, greedily drinking the sweet blood.
The restless, violent power raging within her seems to gradually calm, nourished by your life force.
You draw closer, gripping her wrist firmly while leaning down to gently press your forehead against hers.
As you speak, thick fog begins to drift across her vision, slowly obscuring everything.
Overwhelming exhaustion washes over her, and she sinks into a dazed stupor.
The fog swirls and surges, engulfing the two of you as the streets, shadows, and monsters all fade away into nothing.
Only the warm touch gripping her wrist remains. It feels startlingly real amid the swirling fog.
A familiar sensation floods her mind, and Veronica suddenly remembers your name.
[player name]...
She opens her eyes, her vision gradually focusing until she can clearly see your worried face.
Instead of fog-shrouded streets, she finds herself in the room where she conducts her official duties.
The surreal, otherworldly events from moments before have all faded away, as if they were nothing but illusions of an exhausted person's dream.
Yet the warmth lingering on her wrist feels just as real as it did before.
You sit beside her and grip her wrist firmly, having been there for who knows how long.
...What are you doing here?
Veronica sits up straight and pulls her wrist away from your grasp, instantly composing herself after her abrupt awakening.
You tactfully avoid dwelling on her vulnerable state during the nightmare, instead gently explaining your actions.
...
What did you see in my dream?
A fleeting sentiment crosses Veronica's eyes.
You've found your so-called "evidence" now, haven't you? You've seen me as the "Bloodthirsty Siren".
You raise your other wrist to show her, and indeed, there isn't a single mark on your skin.
She turns away, no longer staring intently at you, and gazes at the drifting white mist outside the window instead.
Though she remains silent, you can sense the suppressed feelings hidden within her guarded heart.
So, do you have any leads on the case?
...So you came here just to watch me make a fool of myself in that nightmare?
The autopsy, the case files, and the key to the records room... You already have it all.
What else do you need, "great detective"?
Veronica turns back around, an unreadable flicker passing through her eyes.
You're suspecting me, aren't you?
You don't rebut her accusation, instead pulling out the telegram you received regarding the commission.
The words "Bloodthirsty Siren" stand out particularly clearly on the telegram.
What did you see in town?
...So you've met that Roko?
Contempt fills her eyes.
That coward used to be a clerk under my command, but when the Mist came, he ran off without even looking back.
He didn't stay and uphold his duty to protect this town, not like Aleksei did.
That man is nothing more than a pathetic coward, terrified of dying in the Mist like Aleksei did.
Then he reinvented himself as the head of the House of Peace, leading bizarre prayers every day...
My hatred has a specific target.
I didn't go after him because I didn't want to drag the innocent, ordinary people seeking refuge at the House of Peace into this.
In the Mist, all they faced was the terror of the unknown.
I couldn't take away those people's last shred of hope.
Her expression suddenly turns serious.
Every night, I see those things in my dreams and hear that voice.
I can resist the Mist's influence, and I don't go mad like ordinary people do in there... but I can't escape the visions that plague my dreams every night.
Hah, is this "fate," then?
How laughable... If they think this will make me weak, make me give in...
You pause for a moment before suddenly breaking into a smile, your serious expression melting away.
...That's a terrible joke.
But she finally lets her serious expression drop, and a smile spreads across her face.
She moves a little closer to you, and you two stand side by side, silently watching the white mist drift past the window.
If there really comes a day when an Aberration like me does become the Bloodthirsty Siren...
I'll join you and your assistant, and we'll forge a new path forward.
Because I want to know what's really hiding in the Mist.
As you two discuss that quirky little assistant of yours, an ominous feeling begins to creep into your mind.
You realize that the girl who was practically inseparable from you seems to have been absent from your side for quite some time now.
And as if responding to your concern, strange sounds drift faintly from the fog once more.
▆▁▂▄▁... Where... ▁▃▄... you... Where are you...
▁▃▄... You... should not... ▃▅▆▁▂▄▁... exist...
Erase... ▃▅▆▁... destroy... ▆▁▂▄▁...
Buried under a mountain of case files and documents, Eileena is sitting bored out of her mind in her room when those eerie sounds echo through the fog.
She mutters to herself as she doodles absent-mindedly in her notebook.
Her pen traces circle after circle around the words "House of Peace", as if this particular puzzle piece is giving her a massive headache.
Hmm, let's put together what we know so far... The House of Peace, those strange rats, and the legendary "Bloodthirsty Siren" that supposedly doesn't exist...
Those people gathered to pray together... Don't tell me they were actually praying for the arrival of the "Bloodthirsty Siren"?
But can prayer alone be effective? Summoning rituals would require sacrificial offerings...
Ugh, I can't figure it out! It feels like I'm missing some crucial piece of the puzzle...
Feeling discouraged, Eileena tosses her pen aside and lies down directly on the floor, closing her eyes to think.
...
Amidst her thoughts, a strange, sharp pain suddenly pierces through her mind.
Something strange seems to be twisting and entangling her mind.
▆▁▂▄▁... Where... ▁▃▄... you... Where are you...
▁▃▄... You... should not... ▃▅▆▁▂▄▁... exist...
Erase... ▃▅▆▁... destroy... ▆▁▂▄▁...
Right then, she hears a faint sound outside her window.
A rat slowly crawls onto Eileena's foot, its tiny claws leaving a nauseating, slimy sensation against her skin.
What is this...
She quickly shoos away the rat, completely unaware that a strange figure begins to emerge from the shadows outside her window.
Who's there?
A young man stands outside her window, his silhouette somewhat familiar.
The girl finally gets a clear look at the ghastly pale face—but this is a face that should not be appearing before her.
Because Aleksei died several days ago.
And Eileena was there when his remains were buried on that foggy night.
...!
She instinctively steps back, but it's already too late.
Before she can even raise her hands in defense, strange shadows emerge from every direction, rushing toward her with alarming speed.
By the time you and Veronica arrive at Eileena's room, it is already deserted.
No trace of her remains. Scattered case files and documents are strewn across the floor, along with that notebook she never goes anywhere without.
The open notebook bears her familiar handwriting, and "House of Peace" is circled over and over again in red ink for emphasis.
Most disturbing of all are the rows of strange, filthy marks covering the notebook: grimy, bloodstained traces left by countless rat paws.
It seems that some sinister force took her away while she was working the case here.
The handwriting, the traces of rats, and the scattered clues all click into place like puzzle pieces in your mind, pointing to the sinister House of Peace.
...
Those guys... I'm done holding back.
The sheriff grabs her lance and strides into the fog.
