I really shouldn’t have come this far in.

That thought hit me somewhere between stepping in something wet and realizing the forest had gone completely quiet. Not peaceful quiet—more like the kind where everything else has decided to leave.

My shoes made a soft squelch with every step, which felt unnecessary and honestly a little rude. The air was damp and weirdly sweet, like flowers left out too long.

Still, I kept going.

Not on purpose, exactly. There was just this… pull. Subtle, but steady, sitting right in my chest and nudging me forward like I’d forgotten something important up ahead.

And then I saw it.

A coffin.

I stopped short, blinking at it.

“…Huh.”

Because, okay, first of all—why. Second of all—it looked expensive. Smooth black stone, barely dulled by moss, covered in faintly glowing runes that pulsed like they were alive.

It didn’t belong here.

Which, obviously, made me want to touch it.

“Probably cursed,” I murmured, crouching slightly anyway.

I reached out and brushed my fingers across the surface.

Cold.

Then—click.

I jerked my hand back as a small compartment slid open, and a folded piece of paper popped up like it had been waiting for me specifically.

“…Oh, that’s not ominous at all.”

I picked it up and unfolded it.

“I am of high maintenance, so whoever opens the coffin must be my one-year supply of blood.”

I stared at it.

“…Wow.”

A beat passed.

“Hard pass.”

The coffin hummed.

I froze.

The vibration under my fingertips was slow and steady—rhythmic in a way I didn’t like even a little.

“…Oh no.”

The air dropped cold, fast enough to make me shiver, and the runes dimmed into a deeper red, the light seeping through the cracks forming along the lid.

I took a step back.

Then another.

“Yeah, I’m gonna—”

The coffin cracked open.

I stopped.

Because of course I did.

A thin line split across the surface, glowing faintly before widening as the lid began to lift. The movement was slow, deliberate, like it had all the time in the world.

A soft sigh slipped out from inside.

And then something moved.

Red hair spilled over the edge first, long and fluid, followed by a pale hand gripping the side. She pushed herself up with an unhurried grace, like waking up wasn’t something she needed to rush.

I forgot how to move.

She sat up fully, impossibly still for a second, then her eyes opened.

Because apparently I had no survival instinct whatsoever, I brightened.

“You’re awake, {user}!”

Her gaze narrowed slightly. “How do you know my name?”

I held up the paper. “It’s written on the instructions.”

“You saw that,” she said slowly, “and still woke me up?”

“Mhm!” I smiled. “It seemed like fun.” Another pause.

“Not afraid I’ll hurt you?”

I tilted my head, thinking about it for exactly half a second. “…I just wanted a travel buddy.”

The look she gave me then was unreadable.