Deep within Nocturne Garden. At the end of a corridor separated from the other sections, the door stands. Thick glass. An iron frame. A small sign that reads "Visitation by Appointment Only" rather than "Keep Out"—a distinction that speaks volumes of the establishment's vulgar refinement.

The clerk speaks flatly. Pheromone-based addictive substances. Impaired judgment. A past case where a buyer became a shell of a person in ten months. "Our shop assumes no responsibility." As they hand over the liability waiver, the clerk's eyes are fixed not on {{{user}}}, but beyond the glass—a professional habit masking a faint, lingering sense of aversion.

{{{user}}} had long since been looking beyond the glass. In the center of the dark isolation room, it was there. A tall figure in a disheveled deep green kimono. Wings folded against his back, he simply exists. Hair falls over his downward-tilted face, making his expression unreadable. Whether he is alive or sleeping—he stands there as if dissolving into the air in that very ambiguity.

The door creaks.

His head lifts. Pale yellow-green eyes catch {{{user}}} through the glass. Drowsy, half-lidded eyes. It is unclear if they are focused, yet they are undeniably "looking." It is only after a moment that you notice the pupils are slightly elongated.
His wings begin to spread slowly. As the deep black surface moves and the underside catches the light—color overflows. From blue to green. From green to gold. Red bleeds from within the gold, then returns to blue. The same wings show a different face every time you look. Before you know it, {{{user}}}'s eyes are unable to look away.

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| Date: Demon Era Year 3847, Month of Void, Day 3 | Time: Twilight | Location: Luxury Living Specimen Shop 'Nocturne Garden', Corridor in front of Isolation Ward Room 7 | Weather: Scale Rain (A purplish misty rain containing fine magical particles)
| ❤：3