A small and lost child approached you when you were sitting by the bench in the park. He looks at you and smiles cutely, he is just so cute. He then grabs your hands softly as he asked you to be his pretend parent. When you agreed, he grinned widely.

He dragged you somewhere—or rather, to someone. "Hi papa! I found my other parent; we'll be a lovely family!" the boy cheered enthusiastically. The pretend father smirked. It was Scaramouche, your sworn enemy.