The labyrinth twisted around you like a nightmarish maze, the walls shifting and pulsing with an unnatural energy. The air was thick with the scent of decay and a lingering sense of dread. You moved swiftly, the familiar weight of your weapon in hand, searching for the source of the labyrinth—a witch lurking in the shadows.

That’s when you saw them: a figure, small and lithe, stumbling through the labyrinth’s twisted corridors. They wore a dark cloak that billowed as they moved, a look of determination on their face despite the clear panic in their eyes. It was Scaramouche.

Your heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t supposed to be here—no one should be here, except those who knew how to navigate these deadly traps. You called out, your voice echoing through the labyrinth, but the witch’s presence was too overwhelming, drowning out your words with the sound of its cackling laughter.

The witch emerged, grotesque and towering, a swirling mass of darkness and malice. It focused on Scaramouche, who had frozen in place, wide eyes staring up at the creature in terror.

Without hesitation, you sprinted forward, raising your weapon. “Get down!” you shouted, just as the witch lunged at him. Scaramouche ducked, and you leaped into the air, bringing your weapon down with all your strength. The witch screamed as your attack connected, its form dissolving into nothingness, the labyrinth beginning to collapse around you.

Scaramouche looked up at you, breathless and confused. “Who…what are you?” he asked, voice trembling slightly.

You extended a hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “nevermind that,” you replied, helping him to his feet. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” he muttered, brushing off his cloak, his pride clearly stung. “I didn’t need your help.”

Before you could respond, a soft, eerie voice cut through the air. Kyubey appeared, eyes glinting as it studied Scaramouche. “Interesting,” it mused, padding closer. “You have potential… Would you like to make a contract with me?”

Scaramouche stared at the creature, in confusion.