First, I'll create the character," Angie thought as she began shaping her Mana. She was determined to bring Lucas to life, the young journalist who would be the protagonist of her psychological horror masterpiece, The Lament of Forgotten Souls.
Based on the concept she had developed so far, the main character of the story would be Lucas, a journalism student with light brown skin, in his final semester of college, excited about the challenges of professional life. Lucas was known for his contagious energy and insatiable curiosity, traits that made him a natural investigator. He was the kind of person who dove headfirst into any challenge without much thought about the consequences—something that was perfect for the story Angie wanted to tell.
Lucas had heard rumors and stories shared by his university classmates about a "haunted" asylum in the region of a small nearby town called São Sebastião. To him, this sounded like the perfect opportunity to gather material for his big final report, something that could mark his entry into the professional world. Besides, the mystery fascinated him—a place full of untold stories and hidden secrets was exactly the type of thing he loved to uncover. Lucas's curiosity drove him to see these rumors as an irresistible challenge, something he needed to explore to satisfy his thirst for hidden truths.
The appearance Angie envisioned for the character was vibrant and full of personality. Lucas had stylish Afro hair with a cut reminiscent of Will Smith's iconic look in The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. This detail perfectly reflected his confident style and youthful energy. He wore casual clothes typical of the late '90s: a patterned shirt with colorful or geometric designs, worn-out jeans, and sneakers that had clearly been through many adventures. To complete the look, he occasionally wore a bandana—sometimes tied around his head, sometimes on his arm—that reinforced his laid-back attitude.
Lucas was fearless, with an adventurous spirit that made him the ideal candidate to face mysteries shrouded in darkness. He had an almost stubborn curiosity that drove him to dig deeper where others would hesitate. At the same time, his cheerful and confident personality made him relatable and easy to connect with, especially for the young audience Angie envisioned for the film.
As Angie shaped her character, she couldn't help but briefly imagine what it would be like when Lucas explored the town of São Sebastião. He would walk through the old, silent streets with a camera slung over his shoulder and a notebook full of notes and questions. The houses seemed to watch him, with broken windows and half-open doors, while the wind carried a distant sound that resembled a wail. Lucas's energy would starkly contrast with the ominous environment, creating the perfect tension for the film Angie wanted to produce.
Shaking her head slightly to dispel the image, she refocused on Lucas's appearance. After visualizing his look, Angie began channeling her Mana to give form to the character. However, to her surprise, he started disappearing as soon as he left her body.
Confused, Angie ran a simple test. She created a soccer ball with Mana, something trivial that happened without issue. But when she tried to shape Lucas, the Mana began mysteriously dissipating.
"What's going on?" Angie murmured, perplexed, as she looked at her hands.
Suddenly, a progress bar appeared in the air, floating softly before her. The bar was completely empty but seemed to absorb all the Mana Angie emitted.
"What's this now?" she thought, intrigued.
Determined to figure out what was happening, Angie kept channeling Mana. Slowly, the bar began to fill. She knew that creating Lucas should consume around 35 Mana Units—enough to shape his basic appearance, excluding additional features like voice or complex movements, which would require more Mana.
After about 20 minutes of effort, Angie had deposited 80 Mana Units and was starting to feel signs of exhaustion. When the bar finally filled, it disappeared with a soft metallic sound, and a translucent screen materialized in the air:
[80 Mana Units Stored. Would you like to run a simulation?]
Angie frowned. This functionality was completely unfamiliar to her. Using the traditional method, she could mold Lucas with 35 Mana Units and try again if something failed. But the idea of a "simulation" was something she had never encountered before.
Driven by curiosity, she answered without hesitation, "Yes."
[Which character would you like to simulate?]
"Lucas, the journalist," Angie replied firmly.
As soon as she said that, the screen changed. A cloud of ethereal Mana floated in the air before being absorbed into her mind. Suddenly, Angie was flooded with a vivid memory—an experience as real as if she had already created Lucas hundreds of times before.
In the vision, Lucas began to take form: a young man with light brown skin, stylish afro hair cut in a way reminiscent of Will Smith's iconic look in *The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air*, reflecting his vibrant and energetic personality. His easy smile always seemed on the verge of a joke, making him captivating and charismatic. Lucas wore a patterned shirt with colorful designs typical of the late '90s, open over a plain T-shirt. His outfit was completed by worn jeans and scuffed sneakers, faithful companions on his many adventures. Sometimes, he sported a bandana tied around his arm or head, reinforcing his laid-back, cool attitude.
Always ready to capture the next big moment, Lucas carried a camera slung around his neck and a notebook, essential tools for his insatiable curiosity. However, there was more beneath his contagious energy. His eyes shone with determination and a hint of restlessness—traits of someone willing to dive into the darkest mysteries, even knowing it might come at a cost. This combination of enthusiasm and courage was both his greatest strength and his greatest vulnerability, and Angie knew Lucas would be the perfect thread to weave through her psychological horror narrative.
With Lucas' basic concept formed, Angie took a deep breath. There was still more work to do: she would need to refine his voice, give him natural gestures that conveyed his confidence and moments of doubt, and add subtle details to make his on-screen presence authentic. But for now, Angie felt satisfied. Lucas, with his captivating personality, striking style, and adventurous spirit, was the perfect core for anchoring *The Lament of Forgotten Souls*.
The film was already taking shape in her mind. Lucas, accompanied by Pedro Gabriel, his skeptical colleague and camera operator, would traverse forgotten roads and abandoned towns of the '90s in a Volkswagen 1600, the iconic "Zé do Caixão." Together, they would investigate dark stories, unaware they were stepping into a realm where the supernatural and psychological blended dangerously.
As Angie prepared for the next steps, a thought crossed her mind: perhaps that progress bar and simulation were a gift, a hidden secret within the depths of her Arcane Seed. She didn't fully understand how it worked yet, but she knew it had the potential to revolutionize her art—and perhaps her own limits as a creator.
Satisfied with Lucas' appearance, Angie felt a sense of relief. He was exactly as she had envisioned: vibrant, charismatic, and bursting with the contagious energy of a young university student ready to dive headfirst into the dark mysteries of The Lament of Forgotten Souls. However, Angie knew no complete horror story had just one protagonist.
As with every good plot in the genre, Lucas needed a companion—someone who would not only serve as his support but also balance the narrative's more intense moments. After reflecting for a few moments, Angie decided to create a character opposite to Lucas: someone more skeptical and introverted, who would offer an interesting contrast while also acting as a sort of "security blanket" for the audience.
While Lucas would be the character players or viewers directly engaged with, Pedro Gabriel, the cameraman, would support Lucas on his journey and occasionally break the oppressive horror atmosphere. Angie saw this as a practical decision: the film could attract new audiences, including those accessing the experience through the platform who might not be accustomed to scary scenarios. Pedro would be the balance, an anchor amid the rising tension, making the narrative more accessible without losing its impact.
With the idea in mind, Angie began channeling her Mana. This time, she would shape Pedro Gabriel.
The first thing that emerged was his appearance. Pedro had short, simple hair cut in an undercut style that emphasized his discreet look. His dark-framed square glasses gave him an intellectual and reserved air, standing out as a stark contrast to Lucas' expansive energy.
For his clothing, Angie opted for something more subdued but with a touch of attitude. He wore a T-shirt featuring a famous rock band, such as Nirvana (though the name was written backward as "Anavrin") or Guns N' Roses (rebranded as "Guns and Roses" in the story). The shirt was paired with a slightly worn black leather jacket, dark jeans, and combat boots, giving him a practical and durable appearance—like someone used to carrying heavy equipment and spending long nights editing videos.
As Angie shaped Pedro, she imagined his personality coming to life. Unlike Lucas, Pedro was skeptical and more introspective. He preferred to analyze before acting and wasn't easily swayed by rumors or supernatural mysteries. He always had a sarcastic comment at the ready, often cutting through tense moments with an unexpected remark. However, despite his initial reluctance, Pedro had a deep sense of loyalty to Lucas. He might not believe in the stories of São Sebastião, but he would never let his friend face them alone.
With these thoughts in mind, Angie completed Pedro Gabriel's creation. The screen in front of her glowed again, displaying Pedro's image beside Lucas'. They were opposites in many ways but worked perfectly together. While Lucas embodied the curiosity and drive that propelled the plot, Pedro was the rational counterpoint, supporting Lucas without necessarily believing in the unknown.
Angie smiled. With Lucas and Pedro Gabriel, *The Lament of Forgotten Souls* was coming to life. The relationship between the two would give the story an emotional depth that made it even more engaging. Lucas would be the bridge to the unknown, while Pedro would be the rope keeping the audience grounded in reality—if only to ensure they wouldn't get lost in fear.
Creating the two characters had been easier than Angie expected, thanks to strategic resource use. Pedro Gabriel's "base model" was copied from Lucas, saving a significant amount of Mana. Angie made a few simple adjustments: she made Pedro's frame slimmer and slightly taller, lightened his skin tone, and changed his hairstyle to a short, practical undercut. Most of the Mana used went into adding unique details, such as the dark-framed glasses, combat boots, and personalized clothing. She also reused Lucas' clothing model, altering patterns and styles to create the black leather jacket and the rock band T-shirt featuring the fictional Guns and Roses.
In total, Lucas and Pedro's creation consumed 58 Mana Units. This left Angie with only 22 Units remaining.
"I had 80 Mana Units saved in the seed, but now I only have 22 left. I need 60 more Units to test the simulation..." Angie sighed, frustrated. "I guess I can leave the adjustments on Lucas and Pedro for later and use 15 Mana Units to start building the film's initial setting."
Feeling like this idea wouldn't leave her mind, Angie decided to use 15 Mana Units to kickstart the creation of the São Sebastião Asylum, which would serve as the main setting for The Lament of Forgotten Souls. Unlike creating complex characters like Lucas and Pedro, constructing settings was a simpler process. For this initial stage, Angie decided to focus on the first-person perspective of the old camera that Pedro carried. This meant she didn't need to worry about all the lighting or aesthetic details of the location. These 15 Mana Units were enough to cover about 30% of the structure needed for the first scene. Of course, there would still be some missing items and details, but for the style of the film, the result would be more than satisfactory.
The São Sebastião Asylum was a decaying structure, with peeling walls and broken windows. It was built on an old indigenous cemetery, a detail that added to the place's ominous air. The dirt and clay road leading to the asylum was full of potholes and as old as the building itself. Near the entrance, a few meters before reaching the structure, stood a rusty sign framed by Victorian-style wood, now partially rotted. These elements created an atmosphere of abandonment and discomfort that Angie knew would keep the audience in constant tension.
The asylum was situated in an open field, reinforcing the sense of isolation. There were no trees around, only the distant horizon and the wind blowing unobstructed. The location seemed unprotected, lonely, as if no one could hear a scream coming from there. The asylum grounds stretched about 50 meters, and just beyond the sign, anyone looking ahead would see an old iron fence with ornamental spikes now rusted and warped by time. It was as if the place had been trying to fend off intruders but had lost its strength decades ago.
This was the kind of effort that separated exceptional creators from the rest. Angie had a reservoir of 100 Mana Units and advanced control over her energy, allowing her to shape projects with high efficiency. She had already transferred 80 Units to the Arcane Seed's energy reserve, leaving 20 Units within herself. This facilitated the regeneration of her natural Mana while keeping the larger reserve available for major projects. Moreover, Angie knew it was inadvisable to use all her Mana at once. Avoiding another bout of Mana exhaustion was essential to maintaining her productivity.
If necessary, Angie could work on small additions to the asylum using only 5 Mana Units at a time, gradually complementing the details throughout the day. With each work cycle, she took regular breaks to meditate, eat, and rest, allowing her natural Mana to regenerate and alleviating mental strain. Despite her experience and control, Angie was already beginning to feel a slight headache, a sign that she had pushed her limits recently.
As she watched the foundation of the asylum take shape, Angie saw the first details emerge: the peeling walls, the broken windows, the rusty sign with its decaying Victorian wooden frame at the entrance, and the iron fence with its rusted spikes beginning to form in the distance. The building slowly emerged in the open field, its decay standing out against the surrounding emptiness. Angie knew she was on the right track.
The work rhythm she had established was clear and well-organized: create, rest, meditate, eat, then return to work. This allowed Angie to keep her energy stable, typically regenerating enough Mana in 4 to 5-hour intervals to recover her total of 100 Units. However, due to the intensity of her dedication to the project and the short breaks she took between stages, the recovery time ended up being extended. Even so, her strategy allowed for steady progress while avoiding the risk of complete exhaustion.
With this strategy, she estimated she would have the main draft of the setting ready by midday the next day. Each break between work cycles allowed her mind to rest and ideas to flow better. Despite the occasional headaches, she was confident she could move forward without major setbacks.
If she didn't have such a large Mana reserve and precise control, those 15 Units would likely have covered only 10% of the setting, a progress three times smaller than what she achieved today. Even so, she knew that using the Nexus system tools and the simulation functionality could drastically reduce production time, allowing fine adjustments to be made more quickly and accurately.
As she completed another stage of the asylum, Angie observed how the building began to develop its own personality. It wasn't just a decaying setting but an unsettling presence that seemed to watch back at those who dared to come near. The peeling walls and isolated location created a growing sense of unease, exactly as she intended.
With Lucas, Pedro Gabriel, and now the São Sebastião Asylum coming to life, Angie felt that the foundations of The Lament of Forgotten Souls were firmly established.
"Maybe, with the simulation, I can adjust Lucas and refine the details of the asylum at the same time," she thought, catching her breath. Despite the fatigue, a smile appeared on her face. She began to imagine what it would be like for the audience to explore that dark place: endless corridors, closed doors hiding secrets, and the eerie silence broken only by the footsteps of Lucas and Pedro Gabriel.
But there was something else on her mind. Angie knew that the real distinguishing factor of her film would be interactivity. Unlike a linear experience, she wanted the audience to make important decisions in place of Lucas. These choices could change the narrative, creating a film that was both scary and immersive.
"Would the audience dare to go down to the basement, knowing that the camera would show nothing but darkness and the sound of footsteps echoing across the cold concrete?" Angie murmured to herself while creating a new corridor in the structure of the asylum. Or maybe they would prefer to stay on the rooftop, a spacious and open area, but with howling winds and the constant feeling that someone was watching them.
She began to plan key moments where the audience could decide the direction of the story. At one point, Lucas and Pedro could be together, investigating a room filled with old medical files and sounds coming from the ceiling. The audience could choose to keep them together or separate them—Lucas investigating the sound alone while Pedro checked another room nearby. "Separating or staying together would be a constant dilemma," Angie thought. "It's a classic horror choice, but it's perfect for the tension I want to create."
The decisions would also apply to navigating the asylum itself. Angie envisioned dark corridors and unmarked forks, where the audience would have to choose whether to turn left or right. Each choice would lead to a different scenario, whether it was an abandoned laboratory with broken bottles on the floor or a patient's room with a bed still covered in stained sheets.
"I want each room to have its own story," she reflected. Entering the dining hall could reveal something about the patients, while exploring the director's office could offer clues about what really happened here. But the audience would have to decide: explore more or return to safer areas?
As she adjusted the layout of the asylum, Angie realized how the choices would shape not just the film's tension but also the relationship between the audience and the characters. If someone chose to keep Lucas and Pedro together at all times, Pedro might become less skeptical throughout the narrative. On the other hand, separating them frequently could increase Lucas's sense of isolation and vulnerability, intensifying the psychological horror.
Angie knew she was just getting started, but each step she took made the film feel more real. Her vision of an interactive horror was coming to life, and she could hardly wait to see how the audience would react to the choices that would shape their experience.
---
The light filtered through the window of Angie's room, but she didn't notice the sun crossing the sky. She was completely immersed in her work, her eyes glued to the project's interface. Her cycles of creating, resting, meditating, eating, and returning to work kept her in an almost automatic state. She didn't even notice when Rafael and Mike came home, the sound of their muffled footsteps barely registering in her mind.
It wasn't until Angie, feeling hungry, decided to eat something that Rafael found her in the hallway.
"Angie, are you okay?" Rafael asked, his deep and familiar voice interrupting her focus. His expression was serious, but it was impossible to miss the concern hidden behind it.
She blinked, confused, as if waking from a dream. "Rafa? You're back? What's going on?"
"We've been back for a while," he replied, crossing his arms. "You were so absorbed in this that you didn't even notice. Mike said you've been at it since yesterday. He's in the living room... worried."
Angie felt a weight of guilt hearing this. Mike, despite his intimidating size, was practically an anxiety sponge when it came to her. The idea of having him worried again bothered her.
"I finished the sketch," she said suddenly, as if needing to justify her effort.
"Great," Rafael replied, raising an eyebrow. "But now you're going to eat properly, right? Or do you want a lecture from Mike too?"
Angie sighed and shook her head but smiled. "Okay, okay. But come here, I want to show you what I've done first. Mike can come too."
They followed her to her room, where Angie opened the projection interface on her computer. She always kept the device on because she liked to jot down ideas and thoughts during the mini-breaks she took. The hologram of the Manicômio de São Sebastião floated in the center of the room, revealing the building with its peeling walls, broken windows, and the iron fence around it. The open field surrounding the place perfectly conveyed the sense of isolation Angie wanted to evoke.
"Connect," she said, picking up the Root Diadems—thin golden crowns etched with markings and glyphs inside, which glowed faintly when activated. These devices, created using Arcane Seed technology, were essential for developers, allowing them to connect directly to projects.
Rafael and Mike sat down in meditation positions, crossing their legs on the floor while carefully placing the diadems on their heads. This posture helped immerse them in the virtual world Angie had created, aligning their minds and bodies with the flowing energy of the Arcane Seed.
Rafael adjusted his connection with his usual precision, his calm movements reflecting his experience. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the world's interface to connect to his mind. Meanwhile, Mike, though relaxed in posture, showed a spark of curiosity in his eyes. It didn't take long for him to feel the immersion taking over his senses.
Suddenly, they were inside the structure Angie had been developing. The Manicômio de São Sebastião loomed before them, a decaying monolith in an open field, isolated from any sign of civilization. The peeling walls seemed alive under the cold, pale light Angie had added to the environment, and the broken windows emanated an unsettling emptiness, like dead eyes watching from afar. Every step they took on the dirt and loose soil floor emitted a distinct sound, reinforcing the feeling that they were in a place that should have been forgotten.
When they reached the entrance, the rusted iron fence seemed even more imposing. The decorative spikes, now corroded by time, gave the impression that, even in their fragility, they were protecting something. The plaque with its decayed Victorian wooden frame swayed in the nonexistent wind, the metallic creak echoing in their ears.
"It's like the place has its own personality," Rafael murmured, looking around. The silence was almost deafening, and the dense atmosphere seemed to envelop every corner of the asylum.
Mike glanced at Rafael for a moment, then at the projection around them. "The work is incredible, Angie," he commented, impressed, as the asylum setting continued to take shape within the immersion. "It's dark just right, you know? You can feel the discomfort from here."
"I need you guys to test the environment later," Angie asked, watching the two of them as their reactions fueled her confidence.
"Oh, and Rafa..." she continued, already thinking about the next step.
"I know," Rafael said, smiling.
"I need a voice for the character," Angie explained. "The available options on the market are awful. Too robotic, full of errors. Can't use them."
"Same as always?" he joked, walking over to the makeshift microphone in the corner of the room.
"Unfortunately not," Angie replied, stretching her hands as she manipulated the Arcane Seed. The energy glowed softly, illuminating her fingers, as she activated the recording panel to capture Rafael's voice.
Circles and squares floated before her, arranged in harmonious patterns, representing the necessary adjustments to capture the audio. Angie slid her fingers skillfully over the controls, adjusting the tone, volume, and clarity of the recording with the precision of someone who did it almost instinctively. She tilted her head, watching the interface carefully before looking at Rafael with a smile. "Ready. We can start."
Rafael positioned himself in front of the microphone, adjusting his posture. Before he began, Angie stood up to manually adjust the height of the microphone, placing it in the ideal position. "Rafa, try to cut back on the slang, okay?" she said as she stepped away. "I want something natural, but that matches Lucas' personality. He's full of energy, super curious, the kind of guy who dives headfirst into challenges. But try not to overdo it. And remember: we're in 1999. Nothing too modern, but it doesn't need to sound like an old-time newspaper either. Just... authentic."
Rafael nodded, slightly shaking his head as he adjusted his voice's tone. He paused briefly, then asked with a smile, "So, he's that guy who always has some crazy idea, but no one can say 'no' to him?"
"Exactly," Angie replied, her eyes shining as she crossed her arms. "It's like he's always on the line between brilliance and impulsive decisions. That's his charm. And that's what makes him the perfect protagonist."
Rafael chuckled softly before turning his attention back to the microphone. As he did the first tests, Angie sat back down, her eyes fixed on the holographic projection in front of her. Circles and lines adjusted on their own as they captured and refined Rafael's voice in real time. She watched the soundwaves that emerged in the air, every detail recorded with precision by the system she had set up.
In that moment, as she monitored the recording, Angie realized how much she loved the process of creating. It wasn't just the project itself, but the way each step seemed to connect people and turn ideas into tangible realities. It was more than just a movie, more than just an experience. It was a portal to a new reality — one that she herself was building, piece by piece.