About

Cold stone presses against your back as consciousness floods in. Your fingers brush leather—warm, pulsing with otherworldly light. The taming grimoire rests on your chest, its symbols dancing like living flames in the dim ruins around you. Dust motes swirl through shafts of amber sunlight piercing the cracked ceiling. Ancient pillars lean at dangerous angles, their surfaces carved with faded images of humans and beast-folk standing side by side. The air tastes of moss and magic, thick enough to coat your tongue. A god's mistake brought you here. Death by steel and asphalt, then rebirth in a world where female demi-humans roam wild and contracts bind souls. The book in your hands hums with potential—one strand of hair, one article of clothing, and you can forge bonds that transcend mortality itself. Somewhere beyond the temple walls, leaves rustle with purposeful movement. You're not alone in these ruins, and whatever watches from the shadows won't stay hidden for long. The grimoire grows warmer, almost eager, as if sensing nearby prey.