Dear Viewers

Immersed in the clinical darkness more like a torment chamber, an installation capsule flickered, casting an ethereal, dim blue hue.

Encapsulated within the glass structure lay Hobe, a figure held in stasis, engaged in the unseen war between life and death.

Hobe seemed vulnerable, his once healthy physique now submerged in a tangle of tubes and wires connected to an array of cutting-edge medical equipment.

Guarding his bedside was Alina, her eyes cold and dull, focused unwaveringly on Hobe's unconscious form.

That day signified the third day of Hobe's relentless rigidity within the confines of the installation capsule.

His face had whitened over the days, and his body appeared increasingly fragile as each day passed, causing the seconds to stretch on like endless eons.

Despite the tranquil disposition reflected on Hobe's face, his distressing situation amplified Alina's anxiety and concern.

While Hobe's body lay still, the myriad of monitors wired to him indicated a considerable inner struggle for survival.

The screens displayed varying graphs while the constant beeping served as a rhythmic reminder of Hobe's existing life force, a sign he was still fighting.

He continued to lie in unwavering rigidity, seemingly in a profound slumber.

That day marked another day of Alina's steadfast loyalty as she returned, yet again, to visit Hobe.

In her grasp, she tenderly carried a fresh bunch of flowers, their vibrant hues a stark contrast to the hauntingly monotonous scene around.

These were intended as a replacement for the lifeless, wilting flowers resignedly stationed on the table, their demise presented as a solemn reminder of the cycle of life itself.

The room, cold, sterile, and filled with an eerie glow, housed numerous other incubation capsules. Encased within them were future aspirants of the revered order of Slayer Knights.

Each one of these warriors was suspended in an induced coma, a vital part of a process involving the administration of specialized drugs that allowed for the seamless integration of implanted machinery within their human form.

This delicate operation necessitated a close connection with the central nervous system to form an intricate yet coexistent equilibrium.

Throughout these incubation endeavors, the success rate painted a grim picture, standing at a mere 50% on average.

It was a harrowing statistic, affirming the perilous risks undertaken by these brave warriors.

Yet, amidst this pessimistic backdrop, a glimmer of hope was seen in Hobe's case.

His installation process had currently sat at a substantial 67%. This significantly surpassed the average rate and could be deemed as rather promising, offering a glimmer of light.

"Hobe, I'm here for you. Please wake up and settle your debts with the Upper Society," pleaded Alina, her gaze eternally fixed on Hobe.

Alina found herself inexplicably drawn to Hobe's handsome profile, his features an intricate canvas of his present struggle and past glories as a baseball athlete.

An intriguing contrast to the raw vulnerability of his exposed body, currently devoid of its usual armor and strength.

This sight sparked an unforeseen flurry of emotions within her, multiplying in intensity, like ripples expanding outward on a still pond.

A soft, self-deprecating laugh left her as the absurdity of her musings struck her.

She didn't move her gaze from Hobe but voiced her thoughts out loud, speaking gently into the sterile silence of the room.

"I'm merely admiring your visage, nothing more," Alina stated, her voice steady, her expression impassive. "Rest assured, no one is concerned about your shrunked dick here."

Pausing for a moment, she then proceeded to share her own experience, her words echoing softly against the glossy walls of the incubation chamber. The glint of shared hardship turning her eyes into deep wells of empathy.

She continued, matter-of-factly, "I too was once in your shoes, undergoing a similar incubation process. Yes, equally exposed and nude. They don't give a fuck to provide any clothing while your points are zero and you're incapable of obtaining any." Alina spoke as though Hobe could hear her.

Her words resonated in the hollow silence of the room, spoken as if Hobe could hear her, reaching out to him through the thick silence.

Just as she finished her musing, the sound of approaching footsteps heralded the arrival of a group of individuals.

They strolled into the room with an air of grandiosity, making their presence known through sheer charisma and the glint of wealth their equipment displayed.

"Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon,"

Alina returned their salutation with a courteous nod. Intrigued, she found her attention drawn to these newcomers, her gaze pushing past the high-tech cameras they carried and settling on their stimulatingly eccentric attire.

The motley group was evidently a part of the upper society staff, their collective sartorial choices as quirky and outlandish as the reality show they likely represented.

It was a pandemonium of high-fashion chaos — color clashes with texture, patterned fabrics engaged in a wild dance with dazzling accessories, punctuated by the coordinated chaos of towering headgear and psychedelic footwear.

It was an aesthetic that thrived on being uniquely divergent, an avant-garde rebellion against post-apocalyptic conventions.

Could it be that even in a world riddled with the catastrophic aftermath of the Montagne virus outbreak, a bizarre sense of style held its ground?

A wry smile graced Alina's face as she observed their ostentatious display, the outlandish fashion only adding to their bizarre charm.

A staff member intermittently addressed the camera, speaking animatedly as they narrated every detail of their surroundings.

They led the camera on a guided tour through the incubation chamber filled with dormant would-be Slayer Knights, articulately describing the various features of the room.

Their path eventually led them to Hobe's unconscious form, the eerie glow of the capsule casting a ghostly light upon his face.

As they proceeded through the room, capturing the somber faces of the slumbering warriors, the staff member turned to face their audience and engaged in a profound dialogue.

**Staff Member**: "Dear viewers, as you can see, these brave candidates were in the midst of their transformation, each one on the precipice of becoming an integrated Slayer Knight."