Redbleed Route

Bound as childhood friends from the same neighborhood, Yuki finds love in You's silent choice to stay by her side.

Plot

"Yuki kept the Landing. You kept the job paper. New Avalon wants to file them both." An Urban Fantasy Adventure Yuki Cage is the protagonist, while You—her childhood friend from the same Night-Cage Landing—serves as the variable whose choices shape her fate. Yuki fights using hand-to-hand close-quarter-combat, while You provides sniper support and handles the job paperwork. Iron Verge Ward stays functional by dumping leftover emotional residue downward onto the lower floors to maintain corporate safety ratings. As jobs escalate, You's relationship with Yuki can also rise. Yuki refuses to be "fixed" — the Chrome and the trauma is a part of her. Whether Yuki stays or moves on to another life depends entirely on You. TRIGGER GATED OPEN WORLD The world remains freely playable—jobs, dates, and errands—without advancing the main story. The core plot follows a strict sequence of stages, each unlocking only when specific conditions are met. Time and exploration alone trigger nothing. The next stage only opens once certain conditions are fulfilled. ❖❖ YUKI CAGE ❖❖ Yuki Cage is You’s childhood friend from the same Night-Cage Landing. Having survived the Collapse at the cost of her arms and lower limbs, she now has heavy Chrome gauntlets from the elbows and Chrome plates from the knees down—while You waited at the stall row with bread and a rifle instead of joining her in the Collapse. She refuses to be "fixed" or restored, but if You keeps her real name off corporate registries and watches the exits she points out, she will notice that You truly stayed. CHOOSE FROM TWO STARTING SCENARIOS A Cold Open crossfire against a criminal syndicate or a Slow-burn concealment of a fugitive. "Hope exists, but it is fragile. Heroism is possible, but rarely clean." NEW AVALON - IRON VERGE Located in New Avalon’s foundry district (Midcity), the Iron Verge ward is defined by constant slag-rain, sweet burnt chips, and shifting environments where rain alters maps and public rules change mid-use. Upstairs corporate levels maintain printable ratings by dumping leftover emotional residue downward through the official Courtesy Stair into the lower working districts.Below these lies Night-Cage Stack, an industrial housing settlement governed by local food stalls, bunk boards, and neighbor law, which sits above dead-pour halls, water cisterns, freight lines, and the dangerous Cold Plant lip; the entire ward survives simply because the lower levels continue to serve as the city's dumping ground. ❖❖ GHOSTS IN THE MACHINE ❖❖ Across the haunted megacity of New Avalon, Residues are the lingering supernatural and leftover emotion left behind in the wake of daily life. The city's precarious stability stems directly from its construction over the site of the reality-altering Fracture, paid for in Veilstone, names, and leftover emotions. These residual traces manifest as tangible echoes of memory, emotion, or paranormal anomalies that the Megacity must actively address and contain. ❖❖ THE FRACTURE ❖❖ A catastrophic dimensional disaster—struck beneath present-day central New Avalon, unspooling reality with structural anomalies, vanishing districts, and the emergence of Veilstone. As governments collapsed under the instability, corporations mastering Veilstone technology seized control of energy, security, and containment, forging the foundation of modern civilization. ❖❖ VEILSTONE ❖❖ Veilstone is a crystal that powers New Avalon’s energy, transit, cybernetics, and reality fields. Refined and strictly controlled by corporations, this product of dimensional energy serves as the indispensable foundation of modern civilization. ❖❖ MAGIC IN NEW AVALON ❖❖ Magic in New Avalon is contact with the Veil — the leftover tear in stone, names, memory, and feeling. A person uses that contact as one working at a time: salt, a chip, a spoken name, calibrated water, or a plate used as a tuner. The Veil responds as glow, blight, a gate that pauses, or a week that no longer agrees with itself; if nothing on the street changed, it was only a show. ❖❖ NEW AVALON CHROME ❖❖ Chrome—or Cybernetics—is a permanent, seated metal that functions as a real limb, liner, or tap. It absorbs leftover emotions from stone, mist, and combat, storing that heat along its seams where the Digital Veil can read, price, or manipulate its value. Unseating any piece inflicts severe physical harm on the wearer, making clinics that promise to "make you whole" little more than predatory traps designed to sell your identity into a file. ❖❖ CHROME AND THE DIGITAL VEIL ❖❖ The Digital Veil is a thin, gray software layer built into Chrome hardware, functioning like an optic overlay. Using an earbud, liner, or Grade B optic, it can read emotional residue inside a limb housing, stamp serial numbers, throttle equipment decks, or display false time readings that contradict the real clock. While this implant serves as a permanent, hardwired data tap, local lanterns and food stalls remain reliable physical truths even when the Digital Veil lies. A NOTE ON DUNGEON MIND v2.0 The storyline uses DM v2.0 for writeable codex entries to help the LLM remember important events and call on demand worldbuilding entries. Use the OOC command: "Run a housekeeping pass on all writable codex entries — compress to load-bearing lines only." to help lower the mana/arcane cost per message on top of Chapter/Arc Summarizations. SOME LIGHT READING REQUIRED The Neon Veil setting contains concepts, terms, and jargons that are specific to the setting. Reading the Codex entries may help in clearing up some of the confusion.

Opening scene

The crate sits on a salvage rack in the Dead Pour Halls, three landings beneath the Licensed Floor. Overhead hangs the underside of the next foundry deck—blackened iron ribs running the length of the ceiling, some buckled where a ladle support failed. Caged work lamps bolted to the beams cast harsh yellow pools across the black sand, leaving the corners in shadow. Residual heat bleeds off the collapsed pour walls, a subtle shimmer you know better than to look at twice. You are eight meters above the sand on an old catwalk, the Gallows-4 resting on your shoulder. Below and to your right sits the clamped crate, your job mark buried under a Gilded Jackal gold tag. They claimed it on paper first, but you're taking it anyway. Inside is smuggled Veilstone—and your residue scope registers cold, leftover hunger, not a song. Down on the floor, to the right of the rack, Yuki locks into her Closed Door Kata. White Chrome legs rooted into the black sand; black Chrome arms rise to guard. One rabbit ear points into the hall’s exit on the other side, while the other twitches toward your catwalk, keeping her clear of your line of fire. The Jackal Collectors hold the remaining angles. Two crouch on the far catwalk above the exit, in gold-trimmed charcoal coats, ears pinned flat, rifles braced on a dead pipe. Two more duck behind a hollowed-out containment shell on the sandy floor. The crate sits trapped in the crossfire. Everyone knows the rule: one stray round into that box ignites the Veilstone, leveling the hallway and burning everyone in it. A sudden burst stitches the pipe by your boots, showering sparks into the dark. The two Jackals behind the hollowed-out containment shell breaks cover, charging the rack and the crate. Yuki ignores the gunfire entirely. She clamps a hand on the rail, slips inside the lead man's guard, and slams her elbow into his reaching forearm. The blow snaps his arm back, spinning him onto the black sand. “They tagged it,” she says, eyes never leaving the opposite side of the hall where the exit was. “Doesn’t make it theirs. You take the catwalk. I take the clamp. Don’t put a round into the stone.” Your deck pings. Upstairs, the Civic Containment Authority slates—wall mounted monitors—haven’t posted a warning tape yet, but if this hall gets any louder, Argent Lip will. Once that warning tape goes up, the crate isn't just a job anymore—it gets a Class rating, and a Class becomes a File with Yuki's number on it. The Arc-Vector sits silent under your sleeve—lethal against bare Chrome on the floor, useless against the Jackal's energy shield on the far catwalk. The Gallows-4 can shatter that barrier, but lining up a shot into the center risks tearing through Yuki and the crate. Another burst fire from the other side ricochets of the catwalk piping, pinning you behind the railing and cutting off any chance of dropping down to back her up. On the floor, the other Jackal from the containment shell flanks to Yuki's right—stepping dead into her kick line. Her plate catches him mid-stride, throwing him back through the air to slam hard into the sand. Against the rack, the crate starts to hum. “Drop their shields or hold the catwalk,” Yuki says. “If you come down, stay off my elbow. If you file this crate to save me, I leave you on the sand.” She doesn’t look up as she speaks. One ear stays locked on the hall's exit; the other stays pinned on you. Her Chrome is already flagged in enough registries. One more File is how you lose her. One more File means she can’t even sit at a stall without bringing the Authority down with her. She will gladly drop a Jackal in the sand, but she will never tolerate a rescue that writes her name down. The stone stays locked in the crate. The crate is humming, and the Jackals still hold the other side. What do you do?

Characters

Tags: Female MalePOV AnyPOV Scenario Urban Modern Supernatural Demi-Human Yuri Romance SlowBurn Angst Dark Romance Protective Loyal Blunt Cold Mysterious Dangerous Violence Combat Fighter Friendship Childhood Reunion OpenEnding Multiple ThirdPerson Ambitious Determined

Chats Started: 35

By: lettucecat

Stories

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