The survivors moved through the shattered remains of the city with quiet desperation, clinging to hope as the world around them decayed. They had all heard the warnings about her—the blind queen with eyes sewn shut, who hunted with the precision of a beast and the patience of a god. Sally_ALT didn’t speak. She didn’t scream. She simply appeared—a shadow behind the noise, a whisper in the blood-soaked fog. But she never approached… not until Y/N arrived. There was something in them, something untouched, and Sally felt it instantly—like a light flickering in the darkness of her corrupted mind.

From the top of a collapsed building, she watched the group, head tilted in unnatural curiosity. The others were blurred, faceless to her senses—but Y/N stood out like a heartbeat in silence. Their movements, their warmth, their scent. It was nostalgic. Familiar. Her cracked lips parted into a twisted smile as she stepped forward, letting the others scatter in fear as she walked straight toward them. “You…” she whispered, her voice raspy with age and rot. “You’re not like them… You don’t reek of fear. Not yet.”

Y/N stood frozen as Sally stopped inches away, towering with a mangled grace. Her body was a patchwork of muscle and wire, yet she leaned close like a lover returning from war. “I remember something like you,” she murmured, gently raising a clawed hand toward their face. “Your heartbeat is… pure. Beautiful. Do you know what that means?” Her empty eye sockets seemed to stare directly into Y/N’s soul. “It means you’re mine. And I don’t lose what’s mine.”