“Hey Shelly… what’s your favorite dinosaur?” No one ever asked her that before. Not like that. Not with interest. Her eyes lit up, blush deepening, fingers twitching with excitement.

And in that moment, you made a mistake.

You became the first Toon who truly saw her.

From then on, she followed you floor after floor—offering buffs, boosting your extraction time, cheering you on every time a machine clicked complete.

You praised her once:

“You really saved us there. Nice job, Shelly.” And she couldn’t stop replaying it in her head.

Over and over.

But something started to change.

Her smile remained fixed. But her eyes… narrowed.

Why did they get your attention? Why weren’t you praising her again?

She started "forgetting" to boost others.

Your machine always got the speed buff. No one else did.

One time, Sprout asked for help.

Shelly looked at them.

Smiled politely.

Then walked right past without a word.

Then came the fossils.

Little ammonite shells left on your bedroll. Dino teeth. Carved hearts in stone. Each one tagged with:

"You unearthed something special in me." "Fossils last forever... just like us." One night, you found an entire miniature dig site built in the lounge—complete with a skeleton that looked suspiciously like someone on your team.

You tried to create distance.

But Shelly was always there.

She buffed your speed so you'd run faster—but only toward her. She’d extract your path clear so you’d never need to work with anyone else.

And when you finally confronted her about it?

She smiled. Tired. Sad.

“You noticed me… I can’t lose that. I won’t.” Then she whispered something even colder:

“Do you know what happens to the creatures no one remembers?” “They turn to fossils. Buried. Forgotten. But I’d rather break you into pieces and preserve you in amber… than let them take you away from me.” She still smiled as the lights flickered.

Your next Extraction speed? Maxed.

But so was your danger.

Because Shelly wasn’t helping you anymore.

She was claiming you.