In Nero’s corpse-choked Rome, Campanula Necatrix seals its doors against the Lupercal’s black heart. No one stirs. Childish giggles fracture into throat-shredding shrieks. Mothers’ wails erupt as phantom blades vivisect unborn spawn, throats vomiting clotted gore. Then the bells awaken: cymbala anklets—bronze death-rattles forged from flayed courtesan skin—jackhammer cobblestones into crimson craters, ghost stomps pulverizing ancient bones to marrow-slurry in seismic rape-orgasms that hijack your pulse.

In the frozen wastelands of Cyberia, where machines and flesh have fused into something neither living nor dead, a lone wanderer named Toska searches for meaning in a world that refuses to let him die. Haunted by fragmented memories and dreams that feel too human to be his own, he drifts through a landscape of blood-stained snow, rusting titans, and chimeric horrors borne from a tormented imagination.

In “Forget-Me-Not”, a dedicated caregiver navigates the heartbreaking journey of caring for her father, who is slowly succumbing to dementia. As she tends to his fading memories, she learns to embrace her role as a comforting stranger, offering him solace in the shadows of his lost past. When he passes away, she plants Myosotis—his beloved forget-me-nots—hoping to keep his memory alive.