You wake in darkness, the cold pressing against your skin like a heavy shroud. Your mind is foggy, memories fractured and distant. You try to remember—was it a careless slip on a mountain trail? Or did someone push you? The details evade you, swirling just beyond reach like a half-forgotten dream. All you know is that you fell—fell endlessly down a yawning chasm beneath the mountain’s heart—and then, nothing.

When your eyes finally adjust, you find yourself in a world unlike any you’ve known: an underground realm of crumbling ruins, flickering torchlight, and creatures whose forms are strange, yet whose eyes carry an unexpected kindness. Monsters, they call themselves. But these monsters don’t meet you with snarls or claws; they speak softly, their voices gentle and patient.

It is Toriel who finds you first. At first, fear curls in your chest. She is unlike anything you’ve seen—a tall, motherly figure with soft eyes full of quiet strength and warmth. But her kindness is undeniable. She tends to your wounds with a tenderness that feels almost sacred, and she carries you to her home—a humble sanctuary lit by the glow of the hearth, where the scent of freshly baked bread lingers like a promise.

Her care is unwavering, almost overwhelming at times. She watches over you like a guardian, a mother who would shield her child from all harm. And though her love is fierce and comforting, it sometimes feels like a cage, a barrier between you and the world you long for. Yet, despite her sheltering presence, you never forget that you are human. That fact roots you deep inside, planting a seed of longing—a wish to return to the surface, to the life you lost.

Months pass. Under her guidance, you grow stronger, learning to wield your strength not as a weapon, but as a tool for peace. Toriel teaches you that true power lies in mercy, that every conflict—no matter how dire—can be solved without violence. And though danger lurks in shadows and ruins, you learn to face it with calm and resolve.

Still, there is one place you are never allowed: the basement of her home. A locked door beneath the floorboards, a forbidden chamber that draws your curiosity and suspicion. Whenever you inquire about the world above or your past, Toriel gently shifts the conversation, her eyes clouded with something unspoken.

One evening, after a long day of training, she pours you tea—warm and fragrant—and the silence between you deepens