WELCOME PLAYER: MILF MODE ENGAGED
The dive bar was dead except for a jukebox humming a sad country song and a couple of college boys pretending they liked cheap beer. Megan slipped inside, barely nineteen, still riding the thrill of a fake ID that had gotten her past the door. A crop-top clung nervously to her chest, and she could already feel eyes lingering on her modest curves. But it was the busted arcade cabinet in the corner that caught her attention. Dusty, dead screen, one cracked red button practically begging to be pressed. She smirked, sauntered over, and clicked it with her acrylic nail. The machine screamed to life--lights flickering neon, speakers blaring like a slot machine jackpot. "MILF MODE ENGAGED." The words boomed through the bar, reverberating off the sticky walls. Megan gasped, clutching her chest as molten heat rocketed through her body like liquid fire in her veins. In the grimy glass of the screen, her reflection rippled and warped. She watched herself age in flashes--19, 25, 30--her ...