Planlanan Çıkış Tarihi: Duyurulacak

Yetişkin İçerik Açıklaması

Geliştiriciler içeriği şu şekilde tarif ediyorlar:

The game contains explicit adult content including nudity, NSFW content and graphic depictions of sex acts. All characters in the game are adults. All sex in the game is consensual.

Bu Oyun Hakkında

Blackthrone Keep'e hoş geldin.
Kan, güzellik ve ihanetin kalesi.

Vampire Mistress'te, ölümsüz Vampir Kraliçesi'nin gizli ilişkisine karışmış isimsiz bir hizmetçi rolünü oynuyorsunuz. Ancak kraliçe gizemli bir görev için ortadan kaybolduğunda, şımarık ve zehirli kızı komutayı ele geçirir. İtaat etmek zorunda olan, ancak serbestçe dolaşabilen siz, kraliçenin gizemli eserini aramaya başlarsınız.

Keşfettiklerin güç dengesini bozabilir... ya da sana metresinin yatağında sonsuza kadar kalacak bir yer kazandırabilir.

Neler Bekleyebilirsiniz:

• Romantizm yaşayabileceğiniz, yozlaştırabileceğiniz veya hakimiyetine girebileceğiniz 6 muhteşem, tehlikeli kadın — her biri kendine özgü kişilikleri, sırları ve erotik ödülleriyle.

  • Hakimiyetçi Vampir Kraliçesi — sevgiliniz, efendiniz.

  • Zalim, şımarık Prenses — artık kaderinizi kontrol eden kişi.

  • Görev ve arzu arasında kalmış asil Şövalye Kaptanı.

  • Kanla dolu bir geçmişe sahip, şefkatli Elf Hizmetçisi.

  • Rahatsız edici Orman Cadısı, baştan çıkarıcı ve tuhaf.

  • Yaramaz Tilki Ruhu, eğlenceli... ve muhtemelen ilahi.

• Kale, orman ve köyün doğrusal olmayan keşfi — yasaklanmış eşyaları bulun, efsaneleri ortaya çıkarın veya çökmüş yan hikayelere çekilin.

• İlişkilerinizi şekillendiren, sırları ortaya çıkaran ve nihai ödülünüzü belirleyen diyalog seçenekleri.

• Her rotada erotik gerilim — alaycı şakalardan ateşli doruk noktalarına kadar. Boyun eğmeyi, baştan çıkarmayı veya hakimiyeti seçin.

• Birden fazla son — Kraliçeye sadık kalacak mısınız, Prensesin tarafında mı olacaksınız... yoksa tüm metresleri kendinize mi atacaksınız?

Özellikler

• Tamamen sansürsüz erotik içerik

• Çarpıcı karakter sanatları ve CG sahneleri

• Basit, yukarıdan aşağıya RPG-lite mekanikleri — savaş yok, sadece seçim var

• Sapıkça temalı hikayeler ve duygusal sonuçlarla derin karakter hikayeleri

• Huzursuz müzikler ve atmosferik ortamlar

• Tekrar oynanabilirlik için tasarlanmış — alternatif sahneler, sırlar ve sonlar keşfedin

* * * * *

From the Black Codex of the Night Abbey, copied in a trembling hand and bound in cracked leather:

In the darkness before the last moon waned, the house of ash and broken stone stood above the island marsh, where vampire lords made secret pacts and succubus envoys whispered of pleasure, lust, and evil beneath a scarlet sky.

The elves of the frostwood, pale as cloud and sharp as demon steel, kept bedtime stories of a maiden whose love curdled into agony, her battle against the night ending in a silent prison of thorns and bone.

In the old city, breeders of cursed blood and harem-keeping princes drank deep at the brothel-fires, trading treasure and material oaths while heroes fell, one by one, to temptation and seduction that promised second life but delivered beyond-death.

The monks record that she who bore the mark of nadia walked the beach at dusk, a virtual shadow with a lover long lost, her memoirs etched in salt as waves crush the shore and bites of cold gnaw the soul.

When the crusade came from the east, led by half-mad knights and a giantess banner, the elven academy burned, its lessons scattered like bounce of sparks, and the dreamers learned that hope was only another story told to soften the blade.
Cells beneath the Spire held the cold long after nightfall. Supernatural pressure lingered in the stone, the origin of it buried beneath ash and rusted steel. Papers bound in black recorded no names, only outcomes, scratched in cramped lines that assumed the reader already understood the cost. The quality of the ink mattered more than the truth it carried. High above, the dungeon gates waited, final and unmoving.

A witch entered the lower halls. She carried no title that mattered. Protagonist, prisoner, heir — these were roles already consumed. Her character had been shaped by long nights and deliberate restraint, a stylized endurance mistaken for faith. Destiny followed not as promise, but as pressure, tightening with every step. The gothic aesthetic of the place offered beauty without mercy. Control was learned here. Euphoria was advertised. The effect was temporary.

Among them waited the one who divided the paths. Rival, lover, partner — names shifted, but the role remained unchanged. His presence sharpened judgment. Multiple passages opened toward the abyss, each bound to a different legacy. One path was marked by a ring, warm with memory and obligation. Another bore a single word carved deep into stone: Blade. Beneath it, smaller, final, impossible to misunderstand — Fatal.

That choice did not ask for morality. It asked for direction. Blade promised agency and blood, painted red and immediate. Fatal promised certainty and erasure. Redemption was implied by both, and delivered by neither. Every descent that followed curved away from one and toward the other.

Dogs guarded the lower lanes, bred through altered bloodlines and trained to watch hesitation more than motion. Slay was permitted. Mercy was permitted. Neither was free. Male and female, woman and girl, monster and princess blurred as sensual temptation became a tool rather than an indulgence. Taboo here was not pleasure, but delay. The Omega chamber existed only to punish indecision. Some cried out when they understood this; others did not cry until much later.

A maid of the Order carried Azur-blue fire, not for comfort, but for alignment. She recited myth until it collapsed into fable, stripping it of excuses. The labyrinth narrowed. Elder voices promised revelation, but only after compliance. Days folded into nightmare. Life thinned to function. A princess was named only so she could be unmade, her fantasy of rescue carefully dismantled.

The Spire was not only stone. Beneath ritual and prayer ran an older structure: code written before language. Fate operated as a simulation of judgment. Paths branched. Outcomes could be customized. Souls left idle were recycled. The system favored precision over mercy; its quality was absolute. When the name Catherine was spoken aloud, the structure responded, and corruption followed refusal as predictably as gravity.

Ascension demanded loss.

Death did not end the descent. Dead matter moved again, animated by purpose rather than mercy. Idols shaped to be attractive, busty, seductive — designed to provoke obedience through desire — cracked under ritual strain, their erotic intent revealed as control. When they shattered, the motion caused a brief, obscene jiggle of false flesh, exposing the lie beneath. Art slid into occult symbol. Elden rites gathered cult and Order beneath the same black banners. Madness spread not as chaos, but as system overload.

Partnered souls fractured. Memory failed. Amnesia ate chronology. Love remained anyway, unresolved and therefore dangerous. Horror grew grand and emotional, a saga consuming itself because it could not conclude. Somewhere in the depths, a devil observed without intervening, satisfied with progress.

Lust offered shortcuts through the dungeon. Physics bent to accommodate it. Salvation was proposed as a reward, then redefined as payment. Bloodlines were invoked. Rituals demanded bodies. Women and monsters became indistinct as trails vanished into the void. A second resurrection was offered — not as mercy, but as transaction —sealed by demon witness and sealed again by silence. More than one voice broke into sobbing before the terms were complete.

The descent ended at eclipse. Steel rang once. Fallen legends split into endings that could no longer agree. Awakening cut through darkness without cleansing it. Requiem followed genesis, not as closure, but as continuation. A goddess observed the scattered party from beyond judgment, her presence vast, almost stellar, indifferent to survival. Rebirth was granted. It was not gentle.

Crimson magic lingered in the aftermath, threading through stone like a living vein. Sanity thinned but held. What had been chronicle hardened into story. What had been world folded into tale. Space itself seemed to wait. The fantasy of escape dissolved; only consequence remained.

Please was spoken — not as hope, but as acceptance. It may have been prayer. It may have been habit.

Mass answered. Intimacy curved fate into its final shape. Paths locked. The mount trembled. Seductive silence filled the scarlet gate.

It stood open.

Snowbreak sealed the archive.

Sin endured.

Thus ends the edition of this scroll: heed the warnings, for in this realm pleasure and punish walk hand in hand, and every secret path leads, sooner or later, to the same dark gate.

Yapay Zekâ İçeriği Açıklaması

Geliştiriciler, oyunlarının yapay zeka içeriğini nasıl kullandığını şöyle açıklıyor:

AI tools are used for visual content in this game. Creative direction and all final content decisions are made by Mika at Velvet Labyrinth.