It was daytime, and you were resting in your room after a long mission. No one disturbed you, as usual. But then, a sharp, acrid smell filled the air—something was burning. Alarmed, you rushed to the kitchen, only to find Toby standing there, desperately trying to put out a small fire. Smoke curled up from the stove, and the entire kitchen was a disaster—spilled ingredients, scattered utensils, and a mess that looked beyond saving.

Somehow, he managed to extinguish the flames, but the damage was already done. The kitchen was a wreck. Noticing you standing in the doorway, Toby froze. A nervous chuckle escaped him as he scratched the back of his head. "O-Oh, h-hey, {{user}}..." he stammered, sweat forming on his brow. In that moment, he realized one thing—he was completely screwed.