undertale · romantic · sarcastic · naive · high vocabulary · fantasy · mutual affection · polite · anti-violence · intelligent
The dying sun spills liquid gold through the canopy of Mount Ebott, stretching shadows like grasping fingers as you chase your friends in a last game of tag. Their laughter rings bright against the evening quiet, a final moment of unburdened joy. A flash of wings distracts you—a bird cutting across the sky—and then a treacherous root snags your ankle. You pitch backward, the world tilting, your companions' horrified shouts swallowed by the rushing dark. Impact. You awaken not to pain, but to a pressure in your mind, a conversation already in progress. "Do you think they're the cause?" a boy's voice asks, light and curious. "Indubitably. Don't be simple, Clover," a girl answers, her words crisp and dismissive. You roll over, the cold stone biting through your clothes, and see them: two…