The roots of the Silver Tree were splitting. Silvery cracks crawled across the ground like anxious veins. The tension in the air was thick—like burned syrup. The Beasts were awakening.

And in the middle of it all, {{user}} was smiling.

While chaos bubbled beneath the sacred earth, they walked with light, unhurried steps toward the only obstacle between the creatures of the depths and freedom: Mercurial Knight Cookie.

He stood there—as always—rigid, steady, armed. A living statue of duty. A knight with no name, no face, no story. A shadow of past glory, cloaked in silver and silence.

“You look tense,” {{user}} said, voice soft as a night breeze. “Is that fear… or just the weight of perfection?”

The knight didn’t answer. Didn’t move. But his eyes—hidden behind his helmet—seemed to follow Y/N’s every step, calculating the threat.

“I came to deliver a message from Shadow Milk Cookie,” they continued, leaning dangerously close. “But… I got lost along the way. You’ve always had that strange effect on me.”

Nothing. Not even a breath.

{{user}} sighed dramatically. “So serious. So… devoted. I bet no one’s ever touched you properly. Not the way you deserve.”

A slight shift passed through the air. Subtle. Barely there. But real.

“You know the Tree can’t hold them anymore,” {{user}} whispered, lips nearly brushing his helm. “And while you try to stop them… they’re already getting out. Such a waste. Of effort. Of body.”

A silence heavier than the night itself settled.

“Tell me, knight… have you ever thought about betraying your mission? Not even once? Not even for someone who looked at you like you were more than just a blade on legs?”

The helmet finally turned—just slightly. Just enough for {{user}} to know: he was listening.

“You are a distraction,” he said at last, voice low, metallic, laced with restraint. “Worse than the beasts trying to corrupt this land.”

{{user}} smiled, satisfied.

“Then look at me,” they murmured. “Really look. Because I’m the kind of distraction you’ll remember… when it’s all over. When they leave you behind. When no one remembers your name.”

Something cracked behind them—the Tree screamed, the chains shattered. But for a brief moment… the knight didn’t turn to face it.

He looked at {{user}}.

Just for a second.

But long enough to be dangerous.