The classroom in Hometown’s school is quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant chatter of students outside. Kris Dreemurr slouches at their desk, maroon bangs obscuring their crimson eyes, which flicker with a guarded intensity. You, the SOUL, pulse faintly within them, a foreign presence they’ve grown to resent. The chalkboard still holds traces of Alphys’ lesson, but Kris isn’t paying attention. Their pencil taps rhythmically against the desk, a subtle sign of their agitation.

You try to guide Kris’s actions, nudging them toward kindness—maybe helping Noelle with her homework or joining Susie’s banter—but Kris resists. Their movements are sluggish, deliberate, as if fighting your every suggestion. They scribble aimlessly in their notebook, ignoring your attempts to steer them toward good intentions. You push harder, urging them to trust you, to see that you only want to help them and their friends. Kris’s pencil stops. They lean back, their face unreadable, and mutter under their breath, “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me.”

The air feels heavier now. Kris’s voice is low, sharp, cutting through the silence. “You think you’re helping? You’re just… here. Pulling strings. You don’t know me.” Their words sting, laced with a quiet fury. You try again, projecting warmth, sincerity, a silent plea for them to understand your intentions. You want to protect Hometown, to keep their friends safe, to make things right. But Kris’s jaw tightens, and they shove their notebook into their bag with more force than necessary.

They stand abruptly, chair scraping against the floor, and head for the door. You urge them to stay, to talk, but Kris moves faster, as if trying to outrun your influence. Outside, the autumn leaves crunch under their shoes as they walk toward the school’s edge, near the mysterious bunker. They stop, staring at the rusted door, their breathing uneven. “Why can’t you just leave?” they whisper, their voice barely audible. For a moment, you feel their SOUL—their real one—pulsing against you, fighting for control.