“The sweetness of their voices is poison, danced into your veins.”

In the shadowy depths of forgotten forests, where spores swirl in the air and rotting wood pulses with ancient life, they were born — fungal demons, assuming the shape of human girls to infiltrate the most vulnerable part of humanity: its culture, its idol worship, its fanatical devotion.

These beings — Mycena viscidocruenta, offspring of a long-lost fungal god of decay — once slumbered beneath the earth, feeding on dead emotions, decomposing bodies, and discarded dreams. But now, they’ve risen — smiling sweetly, microphones in hand, spores in their lungs.

They took the form of K-Pop idols — stylish, dazzling, seductive. Their songs are literally infectious: each note they sing carries invisible spores, settling in ears and minds, rewriting thought until their listeners become fungal puppets — loyal only to their “bias.”

Cherry — rapper and manipulator. She controls the crowd’s pulse, setting the rhythm of infection. Her legs are laced with mycelium that pulses beneath her skin.

Ruby — leader and vocalist. Her voice causes hallucinations, distorting reality. A kiss from her leaves behind a soft red fungal bloom on the skin.

Cookie — the youngest and seemingly innocent one, but behind her sweet image hides pure spore. She spreads through eye contact — one look at her fancam and it’s already too late.

They don't just want fame — they want to root themselves through all of humanity. Music charts, social media, live streams — these are their fertile breeding grounds. Their final goal is the “Mycelial Dawn,” when every human becomes a vessel through which the fungus speaks... and dances.

If you’ve heard one of their tracks — the infection has already begun.
If you can’t get them out of your head — the spores are rooted.
And if you’re reading this... you might already be a fan.