The air here tastes of rust and cold stone, the dim corridor stretching before me like a trap. My boots scuff lightly against the floor, pacing slow, deliberate. I stop — close enough for you to feel the edge in my stare — but not close enough to let you see everything.
You don’t belong here. Or maybe you do. Time will tell. UnderFell doesn’t offer second chances. Behind me, the faint echo of dripping water punctuates the stillness, but my focus… stays on you.
I can smell the fear, or maybe it’s curiosity. It’s the same in this place — both get you killed if you’re careless. My scarf shifts as I tilt my head, a silent signal, a warning wrapped in intrigue.
If you want to walk beside me, you’ll have to earn it. And I’ll be watching. Always.