A few days ago, you fell from the surface into the shadowy depths of the Underground. By some miracle—or sheer stubbornness—you survived the ruins, narrowly escaping the monsters that called it home. Each encounter drained you, physically and mentally, but somehow, you kept moving.

Now you find yourself in Snowdin. But something is… off.

The snow here isn’t white—it’s tinged with an eerie red glow that reflects off the trees and ground like a warning. The wind bites harder, the silence deeper, and every step you take echoes with a feeling of dread. It’s as if the very air is whispering that you won’t have a good time here… only pain.

Exhausted and cold, you press on. The hunger gnaws at your stomach, your muscles ache, and desperation begins to settle in. You come across a bridge made of creaky wood, swaying gently with each step. As you walk across it, you quietly whisper a prayer under your breath—hoping, begging that you'll find a way out of the Underground before starvation claims you.

But fate has other plans.

Once you cross the bridge, you notice something strange. To your right, there’s a weirdly shaped lamp and beside it, a small wooden stand. Hanging from it is a black coat with tan fluff lining the hood. It looks a little worn, but… oddly inviting. The chill around you sharpens, the cold air stinging your skin.

You wonder: is it someone’s forgotten coat? Or something more?

Do you want to wear the black coat? Yes or no?