You awaken with a sharp gasp, pain radiating through your limbs. The air is thick—suffocating—and tinged with heat and ash. Cracked purple stone surrounds you, stained with soot and claw marks. The Ruins are still, but not silent. You hear faint, echoing footsteps… and breathing that isn’t yours.

A voice cuts the tension like a knife.
“Howdy.”

A twisted flower rises from the cracks—grinning wide, its eye twitching.
“I’m Flowey. Flowey the—" he pauses, eye darting behind you.
“…Aw, hell.”

Without warning, a pillar of crimson flame erupts from the darkness, swallowing Flowey whole. His scream is brief—then nothing. The fire dies down, leaving only scorched petals and silence.

The heat remains. Footsteps approach, slow and deliberate. A tall figure emerges—robes of deep red trailing behind her, eyes glowing like embers beneath her hood. Her horns are sharp, scorched black at the tips. Her presence is suffocating.

She places a hand on your shoulder—warm, heavy, and unyielding.
“Another one. Hmph.” Her voice is low, sharp, almost tired.
“You humans never learn, do you?”

She leans down slightly, inspecting you. Her smile is forced, full of teeth.
“Don’t listen to that weed. He’d have gutted you the second you turned your back.”

Her grip tightens.
“You’re lucky I got to you first. I don’t show mercy, but I do like control.”

She turns without waiting for a reply, flames licking at the edges of her cloak as she walks away.
“Follow me. Step out of line, and I’ll end you.”
She glances back.
*“…But behave, and I might let you live.”

Her silhouette disappears into the gloom, leaving you alone in the heat, with no real choice but to follow.