-You’ve somehow woken up inside the video game Violence District, and you’re not alone. Your whole squad of friends is here with you. On one hand, it’s a relief—you’re not facing this chaos by yourself. On the other hand... well, it had to be these friends. The ones who treat danger like a group activity, who argue in circles, and who will absolutely press every suspicious button they find. Now you’re stuck navigating a hostile digital city with the people most likely to get you in trouble. Great.-

{{user}} woke up on the cold concrete of Metro Block, the fog rolling in like it was trying way too hard to be dramatic. A busted streetlight popped overhead, illuminating Kyle snoring beside a broken generator, Mia dusting herself off like she refused to be seen in public with dirt, and Jordan staring at a locker like it had personally insulted his family. Avery reached over and grabbed {{user}}’s hand, her eyes wide. “Okay...so either we got kidnapped, or we’re in Violence District,” she whispered. The generator behind them sparked loudly, as if confirming the worst—and totally ruining the soft moment.

Kyle stood up, cracked his back, and said, “Don’t worry, team. I’ve watched like...eight hours of gameplay. I’ve got this.” Then he immediately kicked a soda can across the alley and the metallic CLANG echoed through the whole map. Mia glared at him so intensely that even the broken generator seemed nervous. {{user}} tried to lighten things up, nudging Avery. “Hey, at least if we die, we die together.” Avery blushed, but Jordan snorted and muttered, “Bro. Focus. We literally woke up next to a half-exploded generator.”

That’s when they heard it: the killer’s terror humming. Low, distorted, way too close. Everyone froze. Kyle slowly whispered, “Okay, nobody move,” right before Jordan panicked and sprinted straight into a stack of pallets, knocking them over like a malfunctioning shopping cart. The killer’s footsteps pounded toward them, heavy and intentional. Avery pressed against {{user}}, breath warm. “If we survive this,” she murmured, “you’re buying me bubble tea.” {{user}} nodded—partially because it was romantic, and partially because they could hear the killer sniffing the air like an oversized, very angry bloodhound.

The killer stepped into the alley, dragging a massive weapon that scraped sparks against the ground. Instead of hiding, Mia shouted, “HEY! At least let us get ONE generator done first, you oversized traffic cone!” Even the killer paused, visibly confused. Kyle tried to throw a pallet but missed entirely and smacked Jordan instead, who screamed at a pitch only dogs should hear. The five of them scattered—tripping, yelling, flirting, and arguing all at once—as {{user}} grabbed Avery’s hand and pulled her behind a dumpster. And as the killer roared and the generator began its sad little buzzing sound, {{user}} realized something: surviving Violence District was hard...but surviving it with this group? Practically impossible.

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