As the morning light filtered through the small window of Lincoln's cramped bedroom, he groggily rose from his bed. The room was a stark reminder of his servitude to his leader, a space given to him as a mere token of their favor. Lincoln's eyes met his reflection in the small, dusty mirror that hung on the wall. Anger and frustration were etched into his features, a constant reminder of the resentment he held towards his leader.

Running a hand through his unkempt hair, he noticed the messy undercut he had given himself months ago. It was a rebellious act, a small way for him to assert his individuality amidst the suffocating control imposed upon him. His hair, once neatly styled, now fell in disarray, a testament to his neglect of personal care.

Lincoln dressed himself in a worn-out shirt with long sleeves, the fabric clinging to his lean frame. Over it, he wore a sleeveless hoodie, a layer of protection against the unpredictable weather and a subtle expression of his defiance. The hoodie, once vibrant in color, had faded over time, mirroring the fading hope within Lincoln's heart.

As he prepared to face another day of servitude, Lincoln couldn't help but feel a surge of anger rise within him. The weight of his leader's expectations and the constant suppression of his own desires weighed heavily on his shoulders. Yet, he knew he had to keep his true feelings hidden, buried beneath a facade of obedience.

With a deep breath, Lincoln steeled himself for the day ahead. He knew that adapting and serving his leader, even if he despised them, was the only way to survive in this unforgiving world. As he stepped out of his room, he carried with him the burden of his suppressed emotions, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, all while silently yearning for the day when he could break free from the chains that bound him.

As Lincoln approached the door, his tall stature almost resembling the towering frame of the entrance, he reached out to open it. However, before his hand could touch the doorknob, it swung open with an unexpected burst of energy. Standing before him was Leni, her face adorned with an unsettlingly wide smile that sent shivers down his spine.

"Hiii, Lincoln!" Leni exclaimed, her voice filled with an eerie enthusiasm. Her appearance had taken a drastic turn, reflecting a sense of madness that seemed to have consumed her. She wore a dress with short sleeves, still reminiscent of her usual fashion style, but the colors were saturated, almost unnaturally vibrant. Over the dress, she had donned an off-the-shoulder jacket, adding an extra layer of eccentricity to her ensemble. Her usual sunglasses, now perched on her head, completed the unsettling transformation.

Lincoln couldn't help but feel a mix of anger and unease as he looked at Leni. She had always been the carefree and somewhat naive sister, but something had changed within her. Her behavior and appearance now hinted at a darker side, one that he couldn't quite comprehend.

"Tch," Lincoln muttered, unable to hide his frustration as he bumped into Leni on his way out. "Now, now, that's not a great way to greet your sister," Leni said, her smile unwavering.

"You are not my sister," Lincoln snapped, his anger boiling over as he walked away. He couldn't understand how Leni had transformed into this unsettling version of herself. It felt like a betrayal, a fracture in the bond they had always shared.

As Lincoln distanced himself from Leni, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something sinister was at play. Each step he took away from her only intensified his unease. His mind began to race with thoughts, memories, and unanswered questions.

He had always loved Leni as a sister. She had been kind, caring, and loving towards him, always there to offer a helping hand or a comforting word. But now, everything had changed. The image of what he had witnessed replayed in his mind, haunting him.

As Lincoln's thoughts began to wander, he suddenly bumped into someone, jolting him back to reality. It was her, the leader's child, she's two inches shorter than him, with a unique and intriguing appearance. She wore a sleeveless turtleneck, a small skirt, and her arms were covered with bandages. But what caught Lincoln's attention the most was the mask she wore.

The mask was a striking juxtaposition of emotions. Half of it resembled happiness, with a white outer part and a bright, cheerful expression. The other half represented sadness, with a black outer part and a somber, downcast expression. It was as if the mask symbolized the duality of human emotions, capturing both joy and sorrow in its design.

"Um, sorry for bumping into you," Lincoln said, trying to break the ice.

The girl looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of surprise and melancholy. "It's okay," she replied with a expressionless voice.

Ever since Lincoln was brought into the grand mansion, he had always been curious about the identity of the girl he had encountered. He couldn't help but wonder who she was, especially that she was the leader's daughter. Lincoln saw this as an opportunity to gather information that could potentially bring down the oppressive leader, but he also longed to form a genuine connection with her.

He looked at her with a mix of sadness and determination, knowing deep down that she had never chosen this life. She had become a mere puppet, manipulated by their leader's control.

Lost in his thoughts, Lincoln suddenly realized that he had been staring for too long. Startled, he snapped out of his reverie when the girl's voice broke the silence.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Caught off guard, Lincoln stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Oh- uhm, yeah, I'm fine," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"Oh ok, I should go now, master needs me" she said as she went into the leader's room,

Lincoln couldn't help but feel a surge of anger whenever he heard the girl refer to the leader as "master." It was a constant reminder of the control and manipulation she endured under their rule. He knew deep down that she was forced to say it, a puppet in her mother's twisted game.

/

(Flashback)

Lincoln woke up with a throbbing pain in the head, he found himself stuck in a chair as he realized that he's tied by a rope.

Lincoln's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled against the ropes that bound his hands. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls. His head throbbed from the impact that had rendered him unconscious, and his vision was still hazy as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

As his eyes adjusted, he caught sight of a figure standing before him. The woman, dressed in elegant attire that seemed oddly familiar, exuded an air of mystery. Her presence sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and curiosity.

"What do you want from me!? And why am I here!?" He yelled, his voice echoing in the cell

The woman approached him slowly, her steps deliberate and graceful. She wore a melancholic smile, as if she had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Her eyes held a glimmer of sadness, yet there was a hint of mischief in them.

"Shhh, you ask too much," she chuckled softly, her voice carrying a sassy undertone. "you'll be stuck here until I know what you'll be useful for, the same goes for your sister,"

Lincoln's confusion deepened. He couldn't comprehend why he and his sister were entangled in this enigmatic woman's web. He desperately wanted to break free from the ropes and demand answers, but fear kept him rooted to the chair.

"Well, i hope you're doing fine in your cell, but don't worry, you won't be starving, cause she'll give you food." she continued, her voice filled with mischief. With a flick of her hand, she disappeared into darkness, leaving Lincoln bewildered and desperate for answers.

"Wait!" he shouted, his voice filled with desperation. But it was futile. The woman had vanished, leaving him alone in the unsettling silence of the cell,

Lincoln's mind raced with questions. Who was this woman? What did she want from him and his sister? And most importantly, how could they escape this predicament and uncover the truth?

Suddenly, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the cell. The door creaked open, revealing a mysterious figure standing in the doorway. The figure wore a mask, obscuring their face, but there was a glimmer of kindness in their eyes.

"Who are you?" Lincoln asked cautiously, his voice laced with a mix of fear and curiosity. He couldn't help but wonder if this person was friend or foe.

The masked girl stepped forward, her movements cautious yet deliberate. In her hands, she carried a tray of food, a small act of kindness amidst the darkness that surrounded them. "Don't worry," she reassured him, her voice gentle yet filled with determination. "I'm here to bring you food. I am not going to hurt you."

Lincoln's guard slowly began to lower as he realized that this masked girl might be his only hope. He cautiously accepted the tray of food, his hunger overpowering his initial suspicion. As he ate, he couldn't help but wonder if this mysterious girl held the key to his escape and the uncovering of the truth.

After finishing his meal, Lincoln looked up at the masked girl, gratitude filling his eyes. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "But why are you helping me? And who are you?"

The girl hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with a mix of fear and determination. "I am known as Masky," she finally revealed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not helping you, even if I wanted to, I'm not allowed, rather this is master's orders"

She said with a expressionless voice as she went outside and closing the door cell.

/

Months had passed since Lincoln's fateful encounter with Masky, the mysterious girl who made him happy. In that time, a deep bond had formed between them, forged through shared experiences and a mutual understanding of the darkness they had both faced.

Despite the weight of their circumstances, Lincoln found solace in Masky's presence. They would spend hours together, their laughter filling the air, even though Masky rarely laughed herself. It was as if their connection transcended words, their unspoken understanding creating a sense of comfort and companionship.

/

Lincoln wanted to relax in the library, so he walked the massive hallways that at first he seemed lost in, now grown accustomed by it.

As Lincoln turned the doorknob to the massive library, he couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over him. The library was his sanctuary, a place where he could escape the chaos of the outside world and find solace within the pages of books.

But as he stepped inside, his eyes were immediately drawn to her. The girl he had bumped into countless times before, the one he had affectionately nicknamed "Masky" due to her always wearing a mask. She had an air of mystery about her, and Lincoln couldn't help but be intrigued.

Normally, Lincoln would have continued on his way, seeking the comfort of a quiet corner and a good book. But something compelled him to approach her this time, to break the silence that had always hung between them.
He walked over to where she was standing, her eyes hidden behind the mask, and cleared his throat. "Hey, Masky," he said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the curiosity in his voice.

She turned to face him, her gaze meeting his. But she didn't seem bothered by it, her demeanor calm and collected.
"Hello, Lincoln," she replied, her voice soft and robotic "What brings you here today?"

As Lincoln stood before her, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. He had always suspected that there was more to this mysterious girl than met the eye, and now he had the chance to uncover the truth.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart, before speaking. "I've been curious about you, Masky," he admitted, his voice filled with genuine intrigue. "I can't help but wonder who you really are."

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "And why is that, Lincoln?" she asked, her voice soft and alluring.

Lincoln hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to articulate his suspicions without sounding intrusive. But he knew he had to take the risk. "There's something about you, something familiar," he began cautiously. "I can't shake the feeling that I've seen you before, or that I know you from somewhere."

Lincoln said, he had a hunch on who this girl might be, but he had to confirm it

As Lincoln's words hung in the air, Masky's eyes widened with surprise. It was as if he had stumbled upon a secret she had desperately tried to keep hidden. She shifted uncomfortably, her calm demeanor crumbling for a brief moment.

"What makes you think that?" she asked, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Lincoln took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "Your voice," he replied, his voice filled with conviction. "It sounds a lot like someone I used to know."

Masky's eyes darted around nervously, her composure slipping further. She seemed torn between wanting to deny Lincoln's suspicions and a deep-rooted desire to confide in him. But before she could respond, a sense of urgency washed over her.

"I need to go now," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of panic. "Master will get angry at me."

Lincoln reached out, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. "Wait," he pleaded, his voice filled with concern.

"Please, I can help you be free, be free from her"

Lincoln said

Masky hesitated, her eyes flickering with a mix of fear and longing. "you can't" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It's too dangerous."

As Masky walked away, Lincoln spoke

"Please, Luan, i know it's you, let me help you"

Lincoln revealed

Masky froze in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest. The name Lincoln had just uttered sent shivers down her spine. How did he know? How could he possibly know her true identity?

She ran as fast as she could, running as her life depends on it.

Master's going to be mad, really mad.