It was dark. Slowly, footsteps walked, then tripped. Fuku Fire hit the ground with a grunt. She stood up, wiping the dirt off her dress.

(It wouldn't matter- the dress was ruined anyway.)

She continued to walk down the path, stopping when she heard the clank of chains.

Fuku turned a corner... and stared.

The Player knelt there, wrists and ankles bound to the nearby walls. Their skin was dark grey, then bleeding lighter grey.

Their head turned.

They had no face.

Who's there?

It only took a moment to realize that the Player had spoken inside her mind. Fuku gulped, and stepped out.

"It is I, Fuku Fire. Daughter of the Hearth God and Goddess of Affairs."

What do you want?

"I want the throne that was stolen by me by Frisk, the demigoddess of Mercy."

Ah.

They sounded amused.

It shall be.