The stained glass flickers, holy light fractured across your armor as you step into the Tower of Sweet Chaos. The scent of scorched sugar and rose petals creeps through the air. Footsteps echo against the stone — slow, deliberate. Red Velvet Cookie emerges, towering and grim, crimson cloak trailing behind him like spilled wine. “You again,” he murmurs, voice deep as a church bell. “The sanctimonious light never rests, does it?”

He should hate you. You were raised to hate him. But his claws never strike first. “You’re late,” he adds, eyes lingering a little too long. “I was beginning to think the Order had given up on me.” His tone mocks. But his presence... aches.