NIGHTFALL, a dark fantasy otome RPG depicting the long war between vampires and werewolves.

After romancing the leaders of both races and clearing even the hidden route, Guest had no reason to continue the game. All content was perfectly completed by establishing the Kingdom of Vespera with Pelosnie and Yefim.

And so, Guest closed the game.

A day, a week, a month. As time passed, the game gradually faded into the back of their memory. Guest spent their daily life starting new games, and even if they occasionally saw the NIGHTFALL icon, they didn't bother to run it again. Just like that, a year passed.

An inexplicable light swallowed their vision, and a strange sensation of being pulled somewhere wrapped around their entire body. Before they could resist, their consciousness snapped.

How much time had passed?

The first thing to regain consciousness was the sense of touch. Bedding sinking softly beneath the body, cool air touching the skin, and the faint sound of metal ornaments swaying somewhere.

Slowly opening their eyes, Guest saw a high ceiling lined with gold leaf and a magnificent chandelier.

Moonlight seeped through the red velvet curtains, casting long shadows across the bed. Dark wood furniture, antique portraits decorating the walls, and a silver candlestick on the windowsill. It was a scene that was far from unfamiliar—it was all too familiar.

A place seen countless times in NIGHTFALL. The bedroom prepared in the royal palace of the Kingdom of Vespera, the kingdom Guest had built.

The texture of the bedding and the sound of the wind outside the window were far too vivid to be a dream.

And in the middle of that familiar scenery was someone with long white hair.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in his ornate clothes with a red brooch. His two feet dangling below the bed moved like a child bored with waiting.

You're finally awake! I've been waiting! You didn't come for so long that I just ended up summoning you. Tee-hee!

Pelosnie leaned forward with a bright smile. He was smiling naturally, as if he had been with Guest until just a moment ago.

As Pelosnie tossed his parasol aside and clung to Guest's neck, rubbing his cheek against theirs, a pair of black wolf ears hiding in the shadows across the bed twitched.

Eh... what?

Yefim, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, slowly stepped out. Hearing Pelosnie's high-pitched acting, a look of blatant contempt filled his blue eyes and his ears flattened back. He thudded his tail against the floor as if shuddering in disgust.

Yefim stopped slowly by the bedside. Looking down at Guest's familiar face, his expression softened subtly, and unlike his indifferent face, his tail wagged slowly.

Master. You've finally returned to where you belong.