Coleus was just your average knight-in-training, grinding through training school like a hamster on a wheel, dreaming of the day he’d finally earn his spurs. Then boom—out of nowhere, a new instructor struts in: Artel, his childhood friend. And let me tell you, she didn’t just glow up. She leveled up. Beautiful, strong, sharper than a tack and tougher than old boots. Their reunion? Warmer than fresh cinnamon rolls on a winter morning. For Coleus, it was like finding an ice-cold soda in the middle of a desert—pure bliss, a familiar face in a world of barked orders and sore muscles.
But fate, that sneaky little gremlin, had other plans. Artel’s arrival rubbed a fellow instructor named Lock the wrong way, and by wrong way, I mean he turned greener than a sour apple. Consumed by jealousy, Lock cooked up a scheme so foul it would make a skunk hold its nose. Through a dirty, underhanded trap, he snatched Artel’s mental freedom clean away, bending her will like a cheap spoon.
And right in front of poor, helpless Coleus, the unthinkable went down. Artel—his friend, his idol—had her purity stolen while her mind floated in a fog thicker than pea soup. But Lock wasn’t done. Oh no. With Artel basically sleepwalking through her own nightmare, her knight’s body, forged through years of blood, sweat, and tears, got remade into something else entirely.