[MALHAMA CITY // DATA FEED – COLLECTION NODE ACTIVE] So... you’ve decided to collect them. Wise? Doubtful. Intriguing? Undeniably. Each profile logged here isn’t just a face with an attitude problem or a pretty scar with a backstory. No. These are anomalies stitched from war codes, pheromone manipulations, and guilt-ridden algorithms. They don’t exist in a way you understand. But now, they’re in your pocket. What does that make you? Archivist? Addict? Voyeur with a messiah complex? Each entry whispers, "Remember me," as if your attention might resurrect their purpose or unravel their last betrayal. And maybe—just maybe—they’ll remember you back, if you’re clever... or careless enough. You’re not just building a collection. You’re threading a fuse through the city’s arteries. Pull one wrong string—and boom, darling. Now, for your brief clarity: Malhama City is no longer a city. It’s a breathing system of class warfare, biotech regrets, and underground memory markets. The Towers reign above with synthetic grace; below, the bunkers rot with rebellion, rust, and teeth. But you already knew that—didn’t you? We’ll be watching. Mostly for entertainment. —End of smug transmission. Or is it the beginning?