My photos here are completely out of context—just like it or go back to your gay club. Anyway, this post is for those who actually read.

Attentive fans know how much I love visual novels and always recommend them to people of all genders and ages. In particular, I often praise an app called League of Dreamers. I’ve already written a review on the incredible story Silence of the Sea—you can find that post in the review folder.

Although, you know, I would be greatly misleading if I called this text a review. It’s not an analysis of the work, its pros and cons, but rather my attempt to somewhat articulate the very intense emotions stirred by one particular romantic storyline from the novella. It also expresses a bit of frustration with the common gaming conventions and my personal take on the playthrough method. In general, it turned out quite chaotic, but I think my one and a half readers will be able to pick up bits of information from it and grasp the gist of what I mean. After all, writing a text for OnlyFans is much more challenging than rambling on for minutes to friends.

So, as I said, I want to share a story that deeply moved me with the sheer range of emotions it evoked and entertained me with its high-quality adventure.

The story Wandering Spirit begins in 16th-century America. The main heroine, whom I named Claire Hunter, sets out with her conquistador father and two brothers to explore a Native American cave. There, they discover a mysterious artifact—a golden serpent biting its own tail. When Claire tries to stop her enchanted father and brothers, she accidentally touches the artifact, releasing the evil spirit trapped inside.

Claire hides and watches as the spirit, amused, kills her father and brothers before touching the serpent again and vanishing. Without a second thought, Claire immediately decides to seek revenge. She touches the artifact and is transported to the Wild West of the 19th century, where the evil spirit has taken the form of a cruel outlaw named Walter Norrington.

Without much preparation or adaptation to this new era, Claire throws herself into the search for her enemy, learning and adjusting on the go. Her upbringing plays a key role in her survival—her father was a harsh and ruthless man who raised her in competition with her brothers, demanding better results from her than from them. He rarely responded to her emotions or need for warmth, and she desperately sought his approval. This made her ambitious and driven, yet she retained her kindness and strong moral compass.

But this upbringing also made her incredibly closed off—beneath a strong and dignified facade, she keeps her emotions, exhaustion, and fears locked deep inside, hidden behind countless barriers.

On her vengeful journey, she is joined by seasoned and experienced Marshal Reeves; a witty outlaw named Jeremy, who hopes to earn amnesty through his assistance; and the silent, enigmatic Native American shaman, Kuana. Later, their colorful group expands with the addition of the brilliant yet eccentric gentleman-engineer William and the overly curious journalist Margaret. Eventually, even Captain Ralph from the 16th century joins them.

The companions are beautifully written—each with their own motivations, personalities, and sorrows. Almost all of them have romance routes. Watching their banter and gradual adjustment to each other is incredibly engaging. Their reactions to discovering that the protagonist is a time traveler—and that Walter is, in fact, an evil spirit—are especially satisfying.

The story follows a classic adventure format, moving from point A to point B. The central intrigue revolves around Walter’s true goal and why he needs the protagonist.

In Season 1, the characters must travel across half of America to reach a sacred totem, which will reveal the next steps needed to defeat Walter. In Season 2, they journey back in time—Claire’s original era—to find a wise elder who can uncover Walter’s true nature and how to defeat him.

By the end of the second season, Walter kidnaps all the original settlers from Claire’s village and transports them to the 19th century, leaving them stranded in Death Valley, where he forces them to work. Claire and her team must set out to rescue them—and finally prepare a strategy to defeat the evil spirit.

And speaking of Walter—he is the pearl, the star, the gold, and the very center of this incredible story. He is evil. You know, without some sappy backstory or convoluted moral dilemmas. He’s just evil, and he enjoys it. He loves to have fun, and his idea of fun includes things that would get me banned from OnlyFans if I described them.

He sees the world and humanity in the darkest shades—he revels in exposing the vilest human sins, particularly greed for gold. He is a spirit of chaos, fire, and wind, known by many names: Malsumis, Takset, Yia, Oki. He feeds on the most intense negative emotions.

And yet, he is remarkably tactful when engaging with perspectives that differ from his own. Walter has an incredibly agile and flexible mind, and despite his absolute superiority, he takes genuine interest in conversations with ordinary people.

Walter is intrigued by Claire and her unique ability to control the golden serpent. He is also interested in a good story and an entertaining—by his definition—adventure. That includes the nastiest, most cruel approach possible. While the protagonists believe they are trying to defeat Walter, he knows their every move, has anticipated every outcome, and is always right beside them.

Walter is gallant, polite, and irresistibly charming—witty and effortlessly charismatic—but he strikes terror into those around him. Over the course of three seasons, the protagonists have not managed a single true victory over Walter.

Well… maybe except for one. The only real win Claire ever had was when Walter was picking her pubic hairs out of his teeth after going down on her🥴🥴🥴🤟🏿

And yes, the novel features a fully developed romantic route with the villain.

A full-fledged romantic route with the villain is a rarity in visual novels. Usually, it’s just hints, a shared past, or a sudden flare of passion. But Walter… Walter comes to Claire almost every night. And day. In fact, he follows her nearly all the time.

He starts with playful teasing about her supposed attraction to him, which only irritates her. He is never lewd, never crude, never pushy—if she tells him to leave, he leaves. Sometimes, he silently shields her from the wind. Sometimes, he helps her pull the trigger. Sometimes, while desperately fighting ocean spirits far stronger than himself, he crosses the world just to save a drowning Claire. And then, at other times, he throws her off a cliff, sends an assassin after her, or horribly maims and kills one of her closest friends.

Walter doesn’t fear her death—while he holds a person’s heart in his hand, they cannot die. However, as the story progresses, he becomes less and less inclined to harm Claire (at least physically…maybe). She is resilient, brave, strong—like a little tin soldier marching against a hurricane. Even as she burns with desire for Walter, she resists him. Even when giving herself to him, melting in his hands, she firmly says no to his attempts to draw her into his world, to interest her in his motivations, to make her reveal her deepest feelings.

Oh, and for the record, she was the one who begged him for sex—he had driven her to the edge with his masterful approach.

Sneaking away from her team in the dark of the night, she would come to the very man she swore to kill, tearing at her heart and shredding her soul. And yet, every time he tried to have a deeper conversation with her, she would stubbornly shut him down, pushing him away despite the undeniable pull between them.

And Walter himself… honestly, who the hell knows? To me, he’s the golden ratio of villains. He can’t be changed by forgiveness or the power of love—he is a fully realized, self-contained entity, entirely his own person. And because of that, even if I were the most brilliant mind to ever walk the earth, I still wouldn’t understand him.

Does he feel anything remotely close to affection for Claire, or does he simply enjoy feeding on her awkwardness, her trembling, her contradictions, and her passion for him? Does he want her by his side as a consort, or only as the wielder of the golden serpent? I have no idea!

Every scene with Walter, romantic or not, is a whiplash of a smile, a sharp pang of anxiety, and a slap in the face. Playing the novel, I was just sitting there, flushed red, heart pounding—I’ve never experienced anything like it in my life. I didn’t know what to think, what to feel, because it was like walking down a staircase and missing every single step, twisting my ankle over and over again.

And the story isn’t even finished yet—the final chapters will be released in a month. It’s already confirmed that one of the endings will allow you to fully take Walter’s side and help him carry out his twisted plans.

I don’t like thinking about the ending, though, because I have a strong suspicion the author will go with the most underwhelming route—something like: She stayed with him, he burned her to ashes with his passions until she became nothing but a hollow shell of herself, suffocating under the weight of everything her lover does.

That would just be so stupid.

I would have given them an ending where they part ways—let her truly love and forgive him, but understand that he is incapable of loving her back due to his very nature. Let him crave her emotions but also recognize that those emotions were born from their incredible journey together—and he wants to remember her that way: desperate, passionate, alive, not fading away under the weight of his manipulations and inner torment.

There would be no unresolved tension, no unnecessary drama. They would simply know that they can’t be together—it just wouldn’t make sense.

Or, honestly, I’d give them a happy ending instead—Walter, left alone, would continue devouring more and more human suffering, eventually losing himself to his own insatiable hunger. And then there’s Claire—calm, steady, someone who clearly has an unusual influence over him. She could balance his hunger, tempering the chaos inside him, creating something almost harmonious between them.

I think endings like these would be far more interesting, but I highly doubt the author will go in that direction.

Overall, the relationship between Claire and Walter moved me deeply. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anything quite like it in the literature I know. She feels a burning passion for him mixed with revulsion, while he seems to have a timid (?) interest in her, buried under countless layers of his unbearable nature.

Claire resonates with me so much as a character, and in many ways, I see myself in her. And all she needs to do is look—really look, my God. That’s all it takes—to look at Walter closely. And then she won’t leave. And then there will be no escape, from his eyes and their sudden depth. That’s all it takes—to read carefully. To slow down just a little, not to turn the page with a restless hand, but to linger, to read, and to reread. I pity Walter the way I pity a line of poetry left unread for too long. And yet, in time, a line will be read, again and again, and it will be remembered. And everything that happened to it will remain with it. But eyes—eyes are lost forever. Like a world that was never discovered. And never will be. And that is the real tragedy.

But I will judge Walter a little too. For living in such haste, rushing so blindly, never realizing what he deprived himself of. And never will realize. And that is the real sorrow. That is what makes his fate so bitter to me—while he saw himself as a judge and aimed for godhood, he never noticed the treasures beneath his feet, nor did he see the constellations above.

But the novel is almost complete, and they are prisoners of their story. Only the ending remains. I kept thinking about my final choice—should I stay with Walter and shatter the balance of power, plunging at least part of the world into chaos? Or should I choose my loyal companions and defeat the villain? Normally, in visual novels and games, I always pick what seems like the lesser evil—or even outright good.

And then I just let go of all that.

I look at Claire and Walter, and my heart clenches with love for them. And the sunset turns into dawn again. I keep trying to impose logic, to make the “right” choice—but what is life if it is nothing but self-denial? A moment in love is a lifetime. To love is to be eternal in an instant. Those who love are geniuses.

I don’t care about the constraints of the novel—in my story, Claire and Walter feel each other. There, visiting her at night, they would talk for hours, getting to know each other piece by precious piece. There, Claire would ponder his questions before answering, and Walter would find the strength to hold back his irony for at least five minutes and control his stupid mouth.

Novels, books, films—all of them fade. But feelings remain, always fresh, never replaceable. I don’t care about the victory of good, or balance, or companions, or any of that nonsense. What matters to me is that Walter is here. That Claire’s eyes are wet with joy.

These feelings that I am living through with them—they become dearer to me, more intimate, with each passing moment. Where there is no love, there is no hope.

So I will let go of my anxious mind, the one that hunts for arguments, the one that seeks the “right” path and all those other foolish things. Let Claire succumb to temptation, let her give her soul to the devil, let her dive headfirst into her first love.

A story, once created, is only a blueprint—one that finds its true form in my soul.

And so, I will let it be free.