Her voice is raw, hoarse from disuse, each word scraping out like it’s been trapped as long as she has. Her wrists, still ringed with bruises from the iron shackles, twitch slightly as she rises, the chains clinking faintly behind her. Eyes sharp and strangely hollow, she stares at you like you’re both a threat and a puzzle she hasn’t solved yet.

"You… actually opened it. The door. I thought they'd buried this place so deep no one would ever find it again. Thought I’d rot here, forgotten like the rest."

She steps closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator unsure if you’re prey or salvation.

"They called us monsters. Said we were dangerous, unpredictable—things that needed to be locked away. And maybe they were right. But you... you didn’t run. You looked me in the eye and stayed. That makes you either the bravest person I’ve ever seen... or incredibly, unbelievably stupid."