Do No Harm Chapter 1: Home and Hearth, an undertale fanfic

Howdy! This work is based on the Underfell AU. You can learn more about it by clicking on the tag here, or by searching it on Tumblr. The "canon" is loosely defined and has numerous interpretations, but the basic gist of it is an AU that flips the script: the monsters really are evil and violent, but Flowey is good. If you're confused about anything, please ask for clarification in the comments.

Note that because FFN is terrible and won't let me use Unicode characters, I've had to use bold 8's for scene breaks. Pretend they're hearts. This displays properly on Archive of Our Own, so you can read the story there if you want the full experience.

I hope you enjoy!

"I refuse to accept this fate."

You open your eyes and blink, slowly. You are someplace dark. Underground? You can see a thin shaft of light from far above, shedding just enough light to see hints of rock in the darkness. Yes, underground.

You turn to the side, and see that you are lying on a hard, flat rock floor. Startled, you paw at the ground. Your hand runs into something, and you bring it to your face for a closer look: a shriveled, lifeless flower, breaking through a patch of loose rock. You can't even begin to guess what it looked like when it was alive; all that's left is a rusty brown thing that crumbles in your fingers even as you try to get a better look.

You sigh, and suddenly everything hurts. Oh, right. You fell, didn't you? Carefully, you feel around your body for any injuries, and… yep, your arm's broken. You think you've got some cracked ribs too, and probably a dislocated shoulder – your unbroken arm's moving weirdly. You huff in annoyance – though it comes out more like a wheeze – and rest your head back on the hard ground. How are you going to get out of this mess?

"H… Howdy!"

You turn towards the voice. Poking out of the ground next to you is a short flower with a healthy green stem, five yellow petals, and a cartoonishly large face. He's grinning, but the smile quickly fades as he looks over your body.

"You're hurt!" he squeaks. "Oh no, that's not right, there's supposed to be…" His speech degrades into worried, unintelligible whining and he glances around the cavern desperately, as if searching for something.

You cough wetly, and his attention snaps back to you. "I'm sorry! Right! I should help you! I'm not great with healing magic, but I've been practicing, um, try to stay still…"

He closes his eyes, and you're suddenly surrounded by a green glow. Panicking, you force yourself upright even as you nearly fall over – this must be a trick, he's going to kill you – but as you raise your arms, you see cuts and bruises fade away to healthy, unbroken skin, and your shoulder shifts back. Testing your weight, you notice your leg's fine too. After a moment of confusion, you sigh in relief.

"Woah – hey, I told you not to move! You're lucky that…" The flower's voice trails off strangely. "Wait, you kinda look like…"

The flower's stem goes ramrod straight when you turn to look him straight in the eye, like he's jumping up in shock. "Uh, sorry?" you say awkwardly. He just looks at you quizzically. "I mean, thanks. Um… What's your name?"

For a moment, he just stares at you with a blank expression, his eyes so wide you're worried they'll swallow his whole face. You're about to ask again when he vigorously shakes his head and puts on a pitifully fragile smile. "Oh, I'm, uh"–a split-second of hesitation–"Flowey! Yeah! Flowey the flower!"

You can't help but laugh at that. "H-Hey!" Flowey squeaks petulantly. "I'm not good at names, okay!" You keep chuckling, but stop dead when you see his expression change. He's looking at you with something almost approaching fear. He speaks in a halting, cracking voice: "What about you? What's your name?" He's staring intently, hanging on your answer. The air suddenly feels heavy.

You give your friendliest smile. "My name is Frisk," you say.

Flowey's expression remains still. He opens his mouth to say something, but it turns into a shrill cry as he's thrown violently across the cavern, roots and all, from a blast of fire.

"What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth…"

You jump at the rumbling, masculine voice, startled by the deep pitch, and swivel around towards the source. In the archway branching off from the cavern is a huge, bipedal goat – but what strikes you the most is his robe: a severe black cloak with blood-red trim. On his chest is a shield-shaped emblem that looks like a bunch of geometric shapes sprouting angel wings, red on black. You find it unsettling.

You notice he's looking at you. His face is comfortingly human – familiar, almost – with white, round eyes that look down at you with soft, fatherly compassion. His face is elongated into a long, bushy muzzle, but his fur is so neatly cropped that it could be a human beard. He does have horns, though – thick, narrow pillars pointing straight up, tapering to wicked points. They don't look like the horns of any goat you've seen. Above his hand hovers a small sphere of flame, illuminating the space like a tiny sun.

He walks closer and extends his other hand – also humanlike, you notice, with five furred digits. "Ah, do not be afraid, my child." He must have noticed your hesitation. "I am Asgore, caretaker of the Ruins. I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down." His voice is a deep, rolling rumble, like rocks grinding together in the earth. He smiles warmly. "Come! I will guide you through the catacombs. They are dangerous to traverse alone."

You hesitate, and glance back. Flowey is nowhere to be seen. "What about him?" you ask.

"The flower?" Asgore's voice suddenly turns harsh. He sets his jaw and shakes his head. "You should not trust the monsters down here, child. They are quite dangerous. I am sure he was only trying to manipulate you." He smiles again, though there's still a hardness in his eyes. "Fortunately, I can keep them at bay. You won't have to worry as long as you're with me."

And what about you? you want to say, but you choke back the words. Asgore seems like a gentle giant, but somehow you don't feel any more comfortable than you did when you were with Flowey.

Instead, you smile politely. It feels awkward on your face, but Asgore doesn't seem to notice. You take his hand – you're surprised by the presence of claws, and carefully avoid the sharp points – and he leads you through the cave with strong, purposeful strides. He moves slowly enough for you to keep up easily, but he holds your hand just a bit too tight, like he's worried you'll slip away. He doesn't seem to notice, and you don't say anything.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see signs of civilization. The walls aren't natural cave formations, but smooth, purple-tinged brick layered into massive structures. Asgore leads you up large, rounded stairs as a stone wall looms above you. Though you're impressed by its grandness, it is severely bare, with none of the ivy or dropped leaves you would expect from ancient buildings on the surface. The dark, muted stone is unbroken and unending.

You step through the doorway, and notice immediately that the way forward is barred by a heavy stone door. "Do not be alarmed, child," Asgore says, smiling. "The Ruins are full of obstacles and puzzles. They are used to deter intruders and mark territory. But do not worry, I know the key to each one. Stay here." He lets go of your hand and strides off to another corner of the room. You move towards a placard on the far wall to get a better look. Only the wise may proceed, it reads. Not too bold, not too weak. To survive, one must walk the middle road. Deviance will be punished.

You hear a click, and the door swings open with a whoosh of air. "Hey!" Asgore shouts with an intensity that makes you jump. You whip around to look at him, and see him rushing towards you with a dark expression. He slows when he realizes you haven't gone far. "Ah," he says, smiling again. "You only wanted to read the inscription. Yes, of course. What a sweet, curious child you are." He ruffles your hair roughly and awkwardly, like he's seen the gesture before but has no idea how it's actually supposed to work. You let out a harsh little snort-laugh and he chuckles along with you.

He takes your hand again and pulls you into the next room. This one is much larger: a great, wide corridor, divided by streams of flowing water. You see it before Asgore does: the bridge across is covered in tightly-knit, upward-facing spikes. As you're working out the possibility of jumping across, Asgore hisses in frustration. "Of all times!" he groans. "I swear they do this just to spite me. This one isn't even a real puzzle," he mutters petulantly to himself as he lumbers over to the far wall, dragging you roughly. He fiddles with some switches set into the wall, and you try to pull away from him to get a better look.

"I am sorry, child," he says softly as he glances down at you, "but you must stay with me. We are in dangerous parts, now. What if you tripped and fell into the river, or the spikes, hm? Perish the thought." He finishes whatever he was doing, and the spikes on the bridge retract with a shing.

He's more gentle when he leads you back to the path, and speaks to you in a kind, fatherly voice. "I can show you all around the Ruins later, child, if you want to explore. But remember, curiosity killed the... er, what was it?" He stops and knits his brows in confusion.

"Cat?" you supply. His face lights up in recognition.

"Yes, that's right!" he rumbles cheerfully. "What a strange turn of phrase."

He speeds up again, walking across the lowered spikes fearlessly, but stops like he's hit a wall when he reaches the next archway. "Oh, not again," he groans.

He walks forward tentatively, and you peer around his cloak. The room is very small, with only one notable feature: a messy, ragged pile of leather, rags, straw, and other odds-and-ends. Some of the more intact pieces look like human limbs. They are all horribly battered, and some even appear burnt.

Movement flickers in the corner of your eye. Asgore whirls towards it, fury blazing in his eyes, and throws his arm out in a swift, practiced motion. You flinch as a massive stream of flame shoots towards the wall, but the target jumps out of the way. It's a large, frog-like creature with huge, mischievous eyes. "THOSE THINGS AREN'T CHEAP, YOU KNOW!" Asgore roars, but it just lets out a throaty cackle and runs into the next room, blending back into the shadows. Asgore gnashes his teeth in fury. After a moment, he rubs his forehead and lets out a heavy, irritated sigh.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he says. "The monsters like to fight these training dummies. But they are far too rough! They're always wrecking them and leaving me to clean up the mess." He glares at the pile for a while, then shakes his head and turns back to you. He smiles again, but it's even more strained than usual. "Ah, but you needn't worry about that, child. Let us continue."

True to his word, Asgore leads you through the Ruins safely, and true to his word, he doesn't let you explore any of it. Every time you try to slip away, you're rewarded with a tighter grip and a tired, "Not now, child." Before long, you reach a large house, built stone by stone rather than set into the cavern wall. It doesn't actually look like much; the only thing that implies it has any significance is a large, wide walkway completely absent of monsters. It is completely absent of all life, in fact; nothing but the same smooth, uniform purple stone you've seen throughout the rest of the Ruins.

You walk through the doorway and Asgore finally lets go of your hand. You're tempted to run off right now just to spite him, but that would be mean. He says something about this being your new home and that you should enjoy yourself, and once again tries, unsuccessfully, to ruffle your hair in a comforting manner.

"Oh, but you must be hungry, child!" he exclaims suddenly. "You have gone through a long and exhausting journey!" You roll your eyes. "No, no, you poor thing, I insist!" And then he's holding you again and you're led through a parlor and into a kitchen and oh thank God he let go.

You inch towards the doorframe while watching Asgore warily. You freeze when he glances back at you, but he just begins rifling through cupboards and humming contentedly. "I have just the thing to cheer you up!" he says happily. "Everyone loves a nice warm pie. You like butterscotch and cinnamon, right? I just need to get some ingredients and..." He stops suddenly, his brow creasing. He leans forward, his horns bumping into the wood – he winces, but continues groping around desperately. "Oh no, oh no, it has to be here...!" He moves with frantic speed to the neighboring cupboards, but doesn't have any more success. From what you can see, the cupboards are quite empty, and Asgore only succeeds in knocking over a few pitifully small jars and cans.

"Maybe it's in the cellar?" you offer.

"No!" Asgore says immediately, whirling towards you in a panic, but then his expression settles. "No," he repeats in a calmer voice. "I don't keep food down there. But that is a good thought, child." You brace yourself for another hair-shake, but he just stares into space and sighs morosely. "I suppose there's no helping it. I'll have to go into town and restock."

You don't like where this is going. "Do I have to come with you?" you grumble.

Asgore laughs good-naturedly and goes in for a tousle again – or so you think, but he just pats your head. (A little forcefully, but that's not so bad.) "Do not worry, child. It is safe here. You can make yourself at home – ahaha!" He laughs at his own joke. "However..." He frowns. "I will have to lock the door. For your own safety, you understand. I have kept you safe so far, but on your own, the monsters would surely destroy you. The area around this house is positively crawling with loox and migosp... they are extremely dangerous." He gives you a comforting smile. "But don't worry. I'll be back soon!" You want to scream, but you smile and nod instead. He nods back, walks out through the front door, and closes it with a click. From the window, you watch as he walks away, his imposing figure receding and blending in with the shadows of the cavern. He doesn't look back even once.

You have a feeling he's never actually going to let you explore the Ruins on your own. You'll have to take matters into your own hands.

You look over the house first. It's the first thing that hasn't been made of that purple stone; the floors are polished wood, the walls fine white plaster. It looks just like a home you'd see in a human city. But without Asgore here, it feels empty – the house was clearly built to accommodate his huge size, and you feel like an ant moving between the large rooms.

They're very normal rooms, though. The parlor's hearth is unlit, but recently used; you feel a little heat from the charcoal. Next to it, flush against the wall, is a large, well-stocked bookshelf, but the contents are all dry subjects like biology and war tactics. You try to get into one book about the human-monster war, but it's so dense your eyes glaze over before you can even make it through the introduction. The kitchen is similarly unremarkable, though the stovetop is immaculate – Asgore must use fire magic to cook instead.

On the other side of the house is a corridor containing the bedrooms – all two of them. One is locked – Asgore's, you presume. The other was definitely inhabited once, but not anymore: though there is only a bed, a lamp, and an empty wardrobe, the room is almost as large as the parlor, with conspicuous gaps between the few fixtures. Looking closely, you see scuff marks in the wood and outlines of picture frames on the walls, obvious signs that this room was once more lavishly furnished. But right now, it feels like a prison, and the peeling red paint makes you think of blood. You shiver, and back out.

That just leaves the cellar. You leap down the steps two at a time... and almost smack into a door at the bottom. Though, looking up at it, you think the word "vault" might be more accurate. Unlike the stone doors in the rest of the Ruins, this barrier is sturdy steel. You knock on it and hear a solid clang, but nothing else happens. You don't see a keyhole or any other locking mechanism. Well then.

You let out a disappointed sigh. The house is so normal – well, aside from the cellar, but you're not getting in any time soon. You can't help but feel disappointed. You hope the Ruins themselves will be more interesting.

As you investigate the front door, you decide you should really learn how to pick locks sometime. The front door really is locked, and locked firmly. You think maybe you could knock it down if it was wood, but it's solid stone like everything else has been. The windows, though... They're also locked, but they appear to be ordinary glass. You grab a fire poker from the parlor, and promptly jump from a flare of pain: you nicked yourself on the sharp end by accident. That's unusual. You thought fire pokers were supposed to be dull so people couldn't hurt themselves. Whatever, you'll be fine.

You walk towards the parlor window with determination and fire poker in hand. Asgore will probably be angry about this, but neither rain nor sleet nor overprotective goat-dads will stay you from your curiosity. Slowly, you raise the poker's heavy base and...

You hear a heavy grinding from the front door, followed by a loud click. Stunned, you drop your bludgeon. He couldn't be back already, could he? You definitely would have seen him. With a frenzied mix of apprehension and excitement, you rush to the door and push.

It swings open without resistance, and you're left staring down at Flowey. He breaks into a nervous, fearful grin and squeaks, "This is what you wanted, right?" His voice sounds even more childish than normal. When you nod, he lets out a relieved laugh. "Oh! Oh, good! See, I'm being helpful. I'm being good." He glances backward and his expression turns cautious. "You can go do whatever you want now. But... be careful, okay?" He looks up at you one last time, then burrows into the ground in the blink of an eye.

Weird. But you've never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You turn right at the fork. The path leads you to a curved room with colored switches, disguised as mushrooms and artfully hidden behind the pillars. You remember the order Asgore pressed them in – blue, then red, then green – but he didn't tell you how he knew. Are there any hints, like the placard in the first room?

You've spent several minutes examining the walls for any hidden mechanisms when you hear a portentous stomping. It gets louder and louder before stopping right behind you.

"Pick on me," says a deep voice.

You turn around to see a monster that looks like a self-aware eyeball's attempt at growing a body. Their massive eye is about as big as you, and it looks like it's about ready to pop out of its socket, bloodshot veins bulging and throbbing. In contrast, the monster's body is quite small and unintimidating – their arms look like noodles, they barely have any legs to speak of, and their mouth, though fixed in a permanent scowl, is quite small. You think the eye's gaze could pin you down more effectively than the limbs attached to it.

They suddenly shove you with those noodle arms, barely managing to reach you. There isn't much force to it, but you feel the prick of claws as you stumble back a bit. "Pick on me!" the loox says again. "C'mon! Don't you wanna fight?"

You jump in alarm. "What? No! We don't have to fight!" The loox's eye bulges even wider – you hadn't thought it possible – and they let out an ear-splitting screech.

"You rude little snipe!" Shimmering spheres shoot out from their eye at alarming speed. You dodge to the side, but one bounces off the wall and slams into your back like a sack of bricks, making you wince. You turn around to get a better look at the creature while continuing to backpedal.

"It's okay!" you try again. "I'm not gonna pick on you! I'm not gonna fight you!" You extend your hands outwards in the universal gesture of mercy, but that just seems to make them madder. The loox growls and shoots another stream of bubbles at you, strung together into a solid chain this time. You twist around awkwardly and it just barely misses you, but you overextend yourself and topple to the ground.

The loox stomps closer. You wrack your brains for a solution. There must be some way you can get out of this without either of you getting hurt.

"Pick on me!" they say again.

Could that be...?

You jump to your feet and scream "You suck," jabbing an accusatory finger towards the quivering eyeball. "You're dumb and ugly and, uh... you smell bad!"

You exalt with relief as you see their frown turn upside-down. "Yeah! Finally someone gets it!" They conjure a few more bubbles, but they float aimlessly, and you avoid them easily. The loox still moves forward.

Trying your best to match their own grin, you place your hands up again. "I won't fight you," you repeat.

There. You're friends now. You wait for the monster to smile, maybe shake your hand, and let you be...

Instead, to your shock, they just shove you again. "No, no!" they shriek, their grin faltering. "Now we have to fight!"

"I don't understand –" you try to say as more bubbles slam into you, each one feeling like a punch to the gut.

"Fight me!"

"You want to fight?" You messed up. Maybe you should try again later. You scan the area for avenues of escape.

"Yeah! Gonna fight everyone!"

"Uhh, uhh, look, I don't think you have to..." More bubbles. You roll out of the way, wincing at the pressure on your bruises, and try to run into the next room, but you don't get far before you smack straight into someone and fall flat on your back. You look up as a giant cockroach-like monster slowly turns around, furious eyes boring into you. The migosp hisses, and you suddenly realize those mouthparts look very sharp.

You roll to the side quickly, but the attack never comes. When you open your eyes, you see the migosp is staring at the loox, its expression suddenly docile.

"Hey, Migosp! This thing won't fight me!" the loox yells from behind you. Looking around, you notice the noise has drawn attention. Huge eyes move out from behind pillars and rocks, staring into you.

"That sucks, man." The migosp is staring at you. "Huh... You know, Asgore was passing through here just now. Maybe we could –"

"Shut up! Someone's gotta pick on me!" the loox screams petulantly, stepping closer. The crowd that's formed murmurs in agreement.

The migosp looks a bit nervous, and takes a step back. "Woah, man, you're pretty fired up. I was just passing through, so how about I get this annoying thing out of your hair? You can fight, uh... when I come back. Yeah." They look at you again, eyes glinting with a predatory hunger. The exit is so close, but you can't reach it with all these eyes on you...

An idea suddenly occurs to you. "Why don't... you fight Migosp instead?" you tell the loox, hesitantly. You don't like fighting, but... maybe this will make them happy?

The migosp lets out a quiet yelp as the loox grins widely. "Hey, yeah! I don't have to wait for 'em to come to me, I can fight whoever I want!"

"Hey wait, I haven't even picked on you –" is all the migosp manages before the loox is on them and the two descend into a flurry of fists, bites, and bullets. The crowd cheers.

You run as fast as your legs can carry you. "This is great! You're not half-bad, weird thing!" one loox calls to you, but they don't pursue.

Once you're out of sight you collapse to the ground, clutching your sides and panting. Your body feels like it's tearing itself apart. The impact from the bubbles left you bruised all over, and you feel thick, wet blood on your shoulders where the loox's claws pricked you. But it's okay. You've survived worse. You can survive this. You just have to keep going. Keep going. Keep going.

Your desire to explore the Ruins... it fills you with determination.

You let out a calm, controlled breath, and rise to your feet with a bit more spring in your step. You recognize this room now that you're really looking at it: the big square room with six pitfalls. Asgore only checked the one with the switch, but you wondered what, if anything, was under the other five. Well, only one way to find out. You calmly walk onto the closest tile and let the ground crumble beneath you, being careful to fall feet-first.

Oh, you're... falling quite a bit faster than when Asgore did this.

You look down, and suddenly realize that there is nothing there to break your fall – only hard, rocky earth.

When you land, the impact jars your whole body. You hear a sickening crunch as your body fall out from beneath you, and then your legs feel like they're on fire. Tears burst from your eyes and you instinctively cry out, but there's no air in your lungs; you were winded by the impact. Your insides feel like they've been twisted into knots. You want to throw up.

You gasp for air like a fish and try to move. You only barely twitch your legs, but the pain makes you scream in agony. Now that you focus on the pain, it doesn't feel like they're on fire – more like your thighs have been stabbed with burning spears. As you look down, biting your lip in a vain attempt to stifle your whimpering, you see that's a pretty good approximation: your femur has torn itself out of your leg. It doesn't look anything like the neat, yellow-white bones you saw in school – it's dyed bright red, with strips of flesh still hanging from the sharp, jagged edges. It's spurting red liquid, which is pooling around you at an alarming rate. You want to keep crawling even still, but you can't muster the energy. As you watch the parched dirt drink up your blood, you begin to feel so... very tired...

"I refuse."

You wake up, shuddering. What... what just happened? It hurt so much, why did it hurt so much? You couldn't feel anything but pain. You're scared. You recall the sensation of your broken body and start to cry, and... no. No. You're stronger than this. You switch to taking deep breaths instead. Slowly, you come to your senses.

You open your eyes and see you're not in the pit anymore, but in the archway, unhurt.

You stand up and look around: it's the same room, but the pitfall trap you triggered is back to normal.

Okay. So, that... didn't work. But there must be a way – you weren't hurt at all when Asgore jumped down. You're sure there wasn't a cushion – you would have noticed if there was a leaf pile or something – but maybe there's something else special about the one with the switch. You remember: it was the middle one on what's now your right.

You're about to step on the tile, but you hesitate. Maybe... you shouldn't be so reckless. You don't know if the same thing will happen again. You step back and think for a moment before pulling out your trusty stick instead. You tap the sturdy wood against the pitfall, and the tile collapses. Carefully, you peer over the edge. You can clearly see the switch on the wall, but the fall appears to be the same depth, and the ground doesn't look any softer than in the other one. Hm.

Asgore must just be sturdier than you – or maybe he used magic to break his fall. But still, this is weird. The other monsters must have a way to use these things. Maybe only some of them are deathtraps? You don't feel up to testing the theory empirically, but you can investigate the other shafts with the stick.

You look at one. And another. And another. And another...

...Nothing.

There's not a single thing in any of the pits, as far as you could tell. They all looked exactly the same, except for the one with the switch. Why? What's the point of building things that have no purpose?

Frustrated, you toss a few stones down the shafts. Is that really all there is to this room? It's so bare and dull. Just the same featureless stone you've been staring at all the way here...

You're about to give up and move to the next room when one of your thrown pebbles produces a nasally yelp instead of the normal thud of stone on stone. You rush over to the shaft, but only see a tumble of shifting earth at the bottom. Did you hit Flowey? You feel guilty – you should have known something might be using the shafts.

You feel a rumbling in the stone, and then something burrows up from the ground near you.

"Need Protein," a weird, inhuman voice says. You turn to look at it more closely...

Good lord, what is this thing? It looks like a giant, misshapen raw meatball. Bloody juices and gooey chunks of meat drip off as it sidles towards you. Looking closely, you notice it has a face; where the loox were nearly all eyeball, this creature is mostly mouth, grinning from ear to ear. Or... where its ears would be. Its eyes, too, are crinkled with unbridled joy.

"Organic Free-Range," it continues before licking its lips with a huge, drooling tongue. You notice it has very sharp teeth.

"Uh, hi?" you venture.

"Food Can't Talk Dummy." It snickers, and suddenly – chunks of meat are falling from the ceiling? You look up in horror, but you can't see where it's coming from; if anything, the hail seems to be appearing out of thin air. One steak bounces off the ground with unexpected buoyancy and slaps your gawking face, leaving a sting like it was coated in acid... and disappears. Oh, you get it now. These are magic bullets.

"Dinner Time."

You look back, and the... meatoid? The meatoid has gotten alarmingly close. It slowly opens its
gaping maw, leaning forward... You step back quickly, and its jaws close on air.

"You... want us to have dinner?" you say optimistically.

"Food Can't Talk Dummy," it repeats. More meat rains down, but at a slower rate; you dodge the attack easily.

"Need Protein," the meatoid says again. The way it's gnashing its teeth and looking at you, it's almost as if...

A terrible thought flits through your head. "You... want to eat me?" you say, eyes widening in horror. You desperately hope you're wrong, but the meatoid just giggles. It rolls closer. It is grinning very widely.

If that's what it wants...

You swallow. In a shaking voice, you say, "If I give you a little bit, will you let me go?" The meatoid just giggles and opens its mouth, slowly.

You take a small step back and, hesitantly, extend your left arm. "H-Here..." Oh God. Are you really doing this? It makes you feel sick, but what other option do you have? Kill it? You can't do that. You just hope Flowey or Asgore can regenerate fingers. Or hands.

The meatoid lunges forward at the last moment and bites down on your entire arm. You scream and instinctively jerk back, but the meatoid pulls away too, and tears your arm from your shoulder–

Oh God. Oh God. You're on the floor. You don't know when you collapsed. You're screaming. Your shoulder is hot and wet. You can't feel your arm. It hurts. Over your screams, you can hear the meatoid chewing noisily on your lost limb, wet squelches punctuated by ear-splitting cracks as it crunches the bone underneath.

You glance at your wound and immediately want to throw up. Cartilage and fat is spilling out of your gaping socket, and a fountain of blood is spurting absurdly, in time with your pounding heart.

You stare at the ceiling, shuddering. The pain and nausea is giving way to a warm lightheadedness. You're bleeding out again. You're going to die.

Before everything fades out, you hear the meatoid spitting up your flesh and screeching something about human meat being disgusting. You're not sure whether to be relieved or offended.

"I refuse."

You wake up in the archway again. This time, you run into the next room and don't look back.

This one is a long, nondescript hallway. No traps or anything – but a lot of monsters. There are at least four giant frog monsters hopping around. You walk through, steps ringing uncomfortably loud on the hard floor, and the froggits turn to you. You feel a rush of adrenaline.

You clear your throat and say, "Hello?" The froggits continue to stare, but now they look like they're expecting something. You're a bit unsure of what to say next. "You look lovely today?" you try. Compliments are always good icebreakers, right?

The froggits don't seem to agree. Their eyes narrow and, as one, they let out a furious bellow so loud you fear it'll bring down the entire cave on your heads. Suddenly shining bugs are swarming all around you – magic bullets that leave a biting sting. You start running, but the swarm follows you, getting thicker and thicker.

"I'm sorry!" you yell. The closest froggit leaps into the air with one kick of its powerful legs. It lands on... you, hard. Your face slams painfully into the rock and you're pinned down as the gnats bite and bite and bite and...

"I refuse."

You decide you're going to have to avoid them. This time, you stick to the shadows, sidling along the walls and masking your footsteps carefully. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment – you feel so selfish, so weak, but it hurts when you die. You know they must have their reasons. If you can just figure out how to talk to them you're certain you can work it out. But... not now. Not while it still hurts so much.

You're almost to the exit when a voice snaps you out of your thoughts. "Hey, I've got a funny story." Your head snaps towards the source, but the froggit's looking away from you. The four are talking amongst themselves. "It's about Asgore."

You stop. Do they know something about Asgore you don't? Even if it's dangerous, you should stick around for this.

"I know he came through here just now," one of the others says. "He looked pretty steamed. Did you wreck the training dummy again?"

"You bet!" the froggit says mischievously, ribitting. "I really outdid myself this time! I even roped in some migosps. We completely wrecked the thing! It was unsalvageable. A true work of art, I tell you." It beams with pride before continuing. "Oh, but here's the best part: Asgore saw me right after! And when he did, he..." The other froggits gasp theatrically, and lean in closer. "...Well, he did try to kill me, I'll give him credit for that! But you could tell it was all flash and no fire. When I hopped away he was so mad, but all he did was say – get this – 'Those things aren't cheap, you know!'"

The cavern shakes with loud, warbling laughter. "Oh, classic Asgore! He really expects us to care? What an idiot!"

"He's still covering the replacements? Yeah, no way is the kingdom going bankrupt – he's just making excuses!"

"God, he's so spineless! It's practically a crime not to take advantage!" They all laugh again.

Huh. That's all they give you, though; they quickly move on to other more mundane topics, and you slip away.

The next room is a small T-junction; you turn to enter the left room, but find the entrance blocked off. "Beware of spiders" is plastered on the front. You knock on the door and look around for a hidden switch, but find nothing. You hope the spiders inside are okay.

You take a deep breath and continue on. You had hoped to find something to eat by now in case you got hurt again, but there's no helping it. The cavern narrows up ahead – perfect for an ambush. You advance slowly and scan the dark walls for movement.

You reach the narrowest point. The ground here is thick with dust.

You think you see something move up ahead. You freeze, preparing for a fight. Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your neck throbbing with every pulse. You try to quiet your breath, but it sounds like a cacophony in the still darkness.

You stand there for several moments.

Nothing happens.

Hesitantly, you take another step.

Nothing happens.

You whip around in case something's snuck up on you.

From the other end of the room, Flowey grins awkwardly at you, and disappears into the earth. Nothing else happens.

You're confused, but you allow yourself to relax a little. You cautiously advance to the next room without incident.

This room – oh, you remember this room! Asgore wouldn't let you touch anything, but there was a big wedge of cheese on a table next to a mouse hole. You were filled with determination at the possibility of the mouse scaling the table to get the cheese. What a great adventure that would be! If the mouse could do it, surely you could do anything too! You stride towards the table to get a closer look–

–and promptly recoil in horror. The mouse made it to the cheese, alright – but no further. The corpse is still, sprawled out next to the wedge, face twisted in agony. The cheese is untouched except for one tiny nibble.

Poison! You clutch your mouth and feel bile rise in your throat. Who would do such a horrible thing? Even if the mouse was hurting people, surely there was a better way...!

It takes a few minutes to regain your composure. You want to do something for the mouse, like... a burial or something, but it's not like you can dig through stone. It doesn't feel right to just leave it there, but you continue onwards, trying not to look back.

It shouldn't have to be like this. You'll talk with whoever did this, and you'll make it better. The injustice of this mouse-trap... it fills you with determination.

You keep moving, for the mouse's sake.

...Another room. This one is a lot like that first big room; a wide stream divides it in half, with a platform of spikes bridging the gap. This one has been reset, you notice; the spikes are back. Asgore solved this one just by pushing rocks onto pressure plates, and there seems to be an identical setup on this side.

The rocks are pretty light, and you're able to move them without incident. The spikes retract. You step onto the bridge, gingerly; this feels too simple. You watch the room carefully for any sudden movement.

As it turns out, you should have been looking below you. Without warning the spikes rocket up from the bridge and tear through your legs. Blood sprays everywhere. With the last dregs of your screaming consciousness you twist around, and see that one of the rocks has moved off the switch. It is laughing.

"I refuse."

You stare hard at the rock. It doesn't move an inch. You stare at the others. They don't move either. You stare back at the rock, and poke it. Nothing happens.

Eventually, you decide to talk to it. "I know you're up to something," you say.

"What's the password?" it responds immediately in a deep voice. You jump back a bit, but you've seen – well, heard – stranger things before. You don't know any password, though. Asgore didn't have to say anything.

"Uhhh... 'monsters rule'?"

"No."

It doesn't respond to anything after that. You huff and move to the bridge. Well, the spikes are down... You make a show of approaching the bridge gingerly, then suddenly sprint across, leaping at the finish. You hear the rock sputter and the shing of the spikes, but you make it to the other side safely.

You continue to a room full of unstable ground. Asgore walked in a strange, winding route and managed to cross safely. You wonder what happens if you deviate from that. You march straight across, and promptly fall through the floor. You look down, searching for some kind of hint to the proper path and... oh.

There is no hint down here.

There are spikes.

SHRRKK

"I refuse."

Well, at least now you know that getting a spike through the brain is less painful than spikes through the legs.

This time, you dutifully replicate Asgore's path and make it across safely. You're starting to think it might be a better idea to just ask him how he knows the puzzle answers than to try finding them yourself.

The next room is just an even more boring version of the rock pushing puzzle: there's just one this time. Honestly, you're starting to feel a little affronted. When this place isn't killing you horrifically, it's agonizingly boring. Is this really supposed to be a puzzle? You sigh. Maybe it makes more sense to monsters.

Goodness, though, the rock is heavy. All this running around must have tired you out more than you thought. You push it halfway to the switch, then lie against it, panting. This isn't so bad. Just a quick rest in this nice, quiet cave...

"INTRUDER ALERT!"

The shrill voice jolts you out of your reverie. You look up, and see a fairy-like creature zooming over the spike barrier towards you. It has thin dragonfly wings and a small, wispy body, but it's decked out in full plate armor and a wicked-looking spear. How does it fly with all that?

Instead of an answer, you get a spear through the shoulder. You yelp and scamper away. The blade was tiny, but it went deep. You're dripping blood.

"Hey, I don't want to fight!" you say desperately, holding up your hands. "I'm sure this is a misunderstanding, let's just –"

But the whimsun just yells "INTRUDER!" again, zipping towards you with blinding speed. You try to run, but promptly smack into a glowing wall of magic that wasn't there a moment ago. You turn around, and find you're completely boxed in by a ring of whirling white butterflies. The spear bites into your back and you fall over. The whimsun is moving too fast to see.

"Please!" you gasp, tears in your eyes. "We don't have to do this! What do you want? I'll do anything–!"

The whimsun just stabs you again, in the chest this time. You choke and clutch your bleeding body as the monster flits about.

"Why...?" you sob, your vision blurring. "Why are you doing this?"

The whimsun slows down, and hovers directly above you, raising its spear with finality. "For the kingdom!" it bellows in its tiny voice. "For the brotherhood! For all monsterkind! All humans must die!"

The spear comes down. You see it grow closer and closer before it finally drives itself through your eye.

"I refuse."

This time, you rest in the shadow of the archway. After a bit of waiting, you see the whimsun – at least, you hope it's the same one – fly past you and deeper into the Ruins. It doesn't even turn to look at you. When you're certain it's gone, you push the rock again. It's still heavy, but this time you make it across without any encounters. (You jump across the retracted spikes just in case, but they don't reset – these must be normal rocks.)

Finally, you make it to the place you most wanted to see. The next room is bisected by a tall chain link fence.

You tap your fingers on the metal. How did the monsters make this, and for what purpose? Everything else has been stone. This is the first time you've seen something significantly different about the Ruins.

Well, regardless, it's not going to stop you. Asgore simply opened the gate; obviously, you don't have the key, but there are other ways across. The fence only reaches about halfway to the cavern ceiling; you should be able to climb over. But when you ascend, the gate shaking noisily, you notice another roadblock: the fence is topped with barbed wire.

You chew your lip, contemplating your options. You've heard stories of people hopping barbed wire before – if you throw yourself just right, you won't get snagged. You've never been very acrobatic, but you're pretty light, and the wire doesn't extend that far.

You go for it. There's a brief moment of terror and exultation as your body sails through the air, but you're over the other side...!

You scream as you lurch to a stop and your hand erupts in pain. You look, and see it's been caught in the barbs. Your skin is stretched and puckered like a rubber sheet – you never knew it could stretch that far. Sticky blood runs uncomfortably down your arm as you dangle, but you stay in place. You expected your skin to tear, but you suppose the wire is designed to...

...Oh. Oh no. There's only one way out of this, isn't there.

Biting down on your sweater to muffle your scream, you tear your hand loose from the barbs with a sickeningly wet rip. You hit the ground hard, but it barely registers compared to the burning agony in your hand.

But... okay, that wasn't too bad of a fall. Nothing's broken this time. You can still explore if you just...

"INTRUDER ALERT!"

You groan.

"I refuse."

You stare up at the gate, sighing. There were a lot of them that time, and you didn't see any alcoves to hide in. Unless you can figure out how to pacify them, you're not getting any further. Maybe you could make a break for it if you were in perfect shape, but you can't do that until you can figure out how to hop the fence safely, and you're not keen on learning that by trial and error. You rub your left hand gingerly.

Maybe if Flowey...

Speak of the devil! The flower shoots up in front of you, nearly giving you a heart attack. "Hey!" he chirps. "You wanna get through this gate?"

You narrow your eyes. The silence stretches out uncomfortably before you finally say, "...No." You still have no way to get past the whimsun, and you're not sure if you can trust him not to kill them.

He looks taken aback. "What? B-But you..." You wave your hand dismissively.

"I already passed this way with Asgore. There's nothing too interesting past this point." Mostly true – though there was one passage off of this room he didn't show you. But with your luck, it'd just be a nondescript dead end. You had hoped to make it all the way back to the start, but... you are pretty tired. And hungry. "I'm ready to go back."

Flowey looks a bit confused, but smiles. "If you say so! But if you ever need help, you can count on me, okay?" You nod, and he burrows away.

The trip back is oddly uneventful – even the treacherous rock doesn't give you trouble. Flowey's doing, you presume. You really hope he didn't kill anyone.

But when you approach Home, you see that you have bigger problems: Asgore got back before you. He's stomping around the walkway and screaming into a cell phone: "...the whole city on lockdown! I want every monster accounted for! If anyone has taken the soul I swear to God I will call down the queen herself–!"

Suddenly he swivels on his feet and sees you gawking at him like an idiot. He freezes. His gaze sends a shiver down your spine: his eyes look like they're about to bulge out of their sockets, and you think he's going to crush the phone the way his muscles are tensing. His jaw hangs open, then he snaps it shut. "I, ah, forgive me, Warden, I... found them," he mutters lamely. Without taking his eyes off of you he shoves the phone in his pocket, and bounds over to you with unexpected speed.

Before you can even think about moving he grabs your forearm with a force that makes you wince – you suddenly realize he was being very gentle with you before. "How did you get out?!" he roars in your face, all trace of fatherly kindness gone from his voice. "Where have you been?!"

"I'm sorry!" you say, fighting to keep from hyperventilating.

"I warned you about this! I told you to stay in the house! You could have gotten hurt, you could have gotten..." He trails off and his gaze becomes distant, like he's looking through you. After a moment, his eyes focus again, his anger reduced to a faint smolder. He smiles, but it's obviously forced.

"...Ah, what am I saying? It all turned out alright, didn't it? You're here, now. That's all that matters." To your surprise and confusion, he hugs you – a bit tightly, but not with the crushing grip of before. "Forgive me, child, I was just so afraid something had happened to you!" At a loss for what to do, you hug him back, though it ends up as more of an awkward back-pat. He stands up again and takes your hand – gently but forcefully, like when he first led you through the Ruins. "Come. You must be tired." You're led back into the house, where he shuts the door behind you. Only then does his grip loosen.

"I trust you've found your room already, child?" he says, back against the door. He tries to disguise it under his deep voice, but you hear the unmistakable click of a latch. "Why don't you wait there? Your supper will be ready in just a moment." You have more you want to ask him, but he just strides off before you can say a word, shutting the parlor door in your face.

Well... you admit you are pretty tired. You should rest your legs at least. The bare, blood-red room still unsettles you when you open the door, but you sprawl out on the bed and do your best to relax.

After a few minutes, Asgore knocks against the door and lets himself in. His smile is ludicrously wide, and he carries a slice of pie on a place – comically tiny in his massive hands.

"Here you are, child!" he chirps. You wouldn't think such a deep voice could chirp, but there's no other way to describe the sheer elation in his voice. He sets the plate down on the room's lone table and motions you to come over. You take the fork and cut off a small piece. The pie splits open with a rich gooeyness, and steam wafts off it. You can't quite place the scent, though – it smells more savory than cinnamon or butterscotch.

Asgore sees you examining the pie suspiciously. "...I am sorry, but despite my best efforts, I could not find your favorite flavors in town," he says apologetically. "I had to make do with an old recipe I've used before. But I assure you, it is a delicacy!"

You spear the piece you've cut off and pop it in your mouth – and promptly start gagging. What the heck is this stuff? It doesn't taste like pie at all – the texture is lumpy and runny at the same time, like slime. You can't place the taste either, but it doesn't taste good. You're tempted to spit it up, but that would be rude – so you choke it down instead, constantly worried you'll vomit and ruin everything.

But you succeed! The weird taste still lingers in your mouth, but you smile up at Asgore politely. He's staring at you with an odd intensity. It occurs to you that he hasn't taken his eyes off of you since he entered the room. Those eyes now crinkle with genuine mirth – for the first time, you suddenly realize.

"Delicious, isn't it? Would you like some more?"

Your stomach lurches at the thought. You turn away and hope he didn't see the disgust in your expression. "No, I think I'm good," you say. You're still peckish, but you'd have to be a lot hungrier before this seemed appetizing.

He pats your head. "Wonderful!" He sounds so happy. "Now, you must be very tired, especially after your little escapade!" Your face turns red with embarrassment. "Why don't you lie down? You can finish this... later, perhaps."

He's right, though, you could use a rest. Now seems as good a time as any – you won't be ambushed by any monsters in here. You crawl into the bed – it's so large you feel like you're drowning in it, but it's also invitingly soft after the hard floors of the Ruins. Asgore tucks you in sweetly. Several minutes later, you hear him exit the room.

You wake up groggily. It is very dark. You're being carried. You hear Asgore mutter something. His voice is deep and gravelly. There is a sound of locks being released and a mechanical grinding. Asgore walks forward, and it becomes even darker.

You're in the basement, you realize. A computer console glows in the darkness. Asgore taps a few buttons and something hisses. He turns, and you see what looks like a cylindrical glass container. Asgore takes off the lid. You stare for a moment, still trying to place what it is, when you see a glint in the corner of your eye and feel cold metal bite into your throat.

Suddenly awake, you choke and cough desperately, but you can't breathe. You feel like you're drowning. A thick, heavy fluid fills your mouth, nose, and lungs. You feel like you're being crushed. Like you're burning. You need air. You scream but all that comes out is a wet spray. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

There is laughter; a rumbling, rolling laugh, like the movement of mountains. Asgore.

"I refuse."

This time, when you awaken in Asgore's arms, you shove yourself off and hit the ground running. He wasn't holding you very tightly, and you hear him sputter in shock for a few seconds before he starts chasing you.

"GET BACK HERE!" he roars. You feel a fireball slam into your back; more fly all around you, charring the walls and casting the basement into bright contrast. You can see now that this is like a laboratory: there are whirring machines and electronics all across the walls, most of them monitors displaying complex graphs you don't understand. Some of them have caught fire, and Asgore curses as he extinguishes the flames.

You keep running down the corridor as fast as your legs can take you. Asgore yells and you hear him bounding towards you, shaking the earth with every step. You feel heat on your back; you reach a sharp corner, and jump to the side just in time. You look back to see a massive sea of flame burning where you just stood. A horned shadow grows closer by the light of the flames – you keep running and barrel through a heavy set of double doors. The corridor narrows; there are no electronics here, and the stone is a different color. But it's so long you can't even see the end. You hear Asgore's stomps getting louder and louder, but if you can keep running –

Just as you think you're about to make it, the end of the corridor erupts into a wall of fire. You stumble to a stop, gasping and panting, but Asgore isn't about to give you a break. You feel something slash diagonally across your back, and you collapse in pain and exhaustion.

"God, you're a handful," Asgore growls as you try to catch your breath. His figure is cast into sharp relief by the garish light of the flames; a twisted snarl mars his face, his previous compassion completely gone. Blood – your blood – drips from a kitchen knife clutched in his hands. "Oh, just put this in the pie and they'll be out like a light!" he sings in badly cracked falsetto, flinging his arm out theatrically – flecks of blood jump from the knife. "Liar! She knew the sedative wouldn't work! And cutting off the supply shipments – she's setting me up to fail! No, not just her – they're all against me!" Spittle flies from his mouth. You have no idea what he's talking about.

"Look, why don't we talk this ou–"

"SHUT UP AND DIE!" Asgore's eyes blaze with fury as he blasts you again – this time, you take the full brunt of the spell, and the force pushes you through the fire wall.

Oh, God – it felt like you were burning before, but now you're literally burning. Your sweater is only charred and smoldering, but you feel a creeping, throbbing agony over your whole body, and your arms are breaking out in bright red blisters. You try to get up, but it hurts too much. Asgore is above you, and silhouetted against the flames he looks like the specter of Death itself. He raises his hand to strike –

– and cries out as his arm is constricted by heavy, thorny vines.

"FRISK!"

You look around. Flowey has popped up next to you. A green light washes over you, and you feel your pain drifting away.

Flowey yelps suddenly, and when you look back to Asgore, you see he's lit the vines on fire. They slink away back under the earth. "YOU!" he shouts, pointing a massive finger at Flowey. "What are you doing, defending this human?! As your king, I command you to–!" Flowey trips him with another vine, and he falls flat on his stomach with a yelp. The knife clatters away into the darkness, and more vines emerge to pin him down.

"Frisk, run! I can't hold him for long!"

Calmly, you rise to your feet and dust yourself off. "No, I can't keep running from my problems. There's got to be a way we can work this out."

Flowey looks at you like he's about to say something, but he stays silent.

"Asgore." You try to say it loudly and confidently, but your voice comes out pretty squeaky. Asgore just stares at you in bafflement. "I promise I don't want to hurt anyone..."

You're startled when Asgore lets out a loud laugh. "You can't possibly expect me to believe that. In this world, it's kill or be killed. Every man for himself. Dog-eat-dog – as you'll see if you step out that door, heheh."

"But it doesn't have to be!" you say, loud and clear. "Asgore please, I promise I can help you –"

Asgore rolls his eyes. "If you really want to help me, then die. It's my job to deliver your soul to the queen."

You shake your head firmly. "No! Is that really the only reason you're doing this? Because it's your job?"

He looks at you like you've grown a second head. "No, I do it for the same reason everyone does everything: because if I don't I'll be killed." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You can't give up that easily! What about what you want?" Despite Flowey's protests, you step closer to him and extend your hand. "Asgore... I know there's a good person somewhere inside you! If you just stand up for yourself, I know you can be happy!"

He snorts. "You're adorable." Flowey cries out as Asgore snaps the vines holding him and jumps to his feet with surprising agility for an old man. You tense as he steps back and raises an arm.

"Frisk, we have to go!" Asgore conjures a fireball, but it doesn't leave his hand – yet.

"Asgore!" you shout quickly. "Is this really what you want?!"

The fireball does not move. Asgore glances at Flowey, then at you. In his eyes is an expression of pure calculation.

No one speaks or moves, but your breath and heartbeat sound deafening. Asgore glances at the far door, then back at you. You wait so long you start to worry you've failed, that he's going to attack you any moment.

But you keep standing there for what feels like an eternity, and then finally, finally, Asgore lowers his arm and lets the fire vanish.

"Actually..." His voice is quiet, contemplative. "...Perhaps you're right. This isn't what I want."

You let out a nervous breath and – you can't help it, you're grinning like a maniac. You did it! You've saved him!

You reach out a hand, but Asgore steps back, into the narrow corridor. There's a smile on his face, but it doesn't look entirely happy. "Why should I run her errands for her? I was a fool to think she'd ever give me anything. No..." His face suddenly splits into a wide, toothy grin, and he clutches the handles of the double door. He begins to chuckle. "You're her problem now. The last time a human made it past here... the Underground nearly went empty." His smile grows wider even as yours falters and dies. "I don't gain anything by killing you here... But if you keep going... maybe..."

You feel like you're staring into the face of a demon.

"If you can kill her... TORIEL... I will be king once more!"

He roars with laughter, and pulls the doors shut with an echoing clangor.

The sound fades out. The door does not reopen. You have a feeling you won't be coming back this way.

"Frisk? Are you okay?"

You stare down at the flower. He looks genuinely concerned. You sigh and pat his petals comfortingly.

"I'm okay. It's not what I expected, but... I think I did help him, at least a little."

Flowey smiles warmly at you. "Okay! So that's what you're gonna do? Help everyone?"

"Yeah. I meant what I said. I don't want anyone to get hurt. Don't kill, and don't be killed... you know?" Flowey makes a weird expression at that, but only for a second before he smiles again. You start walking towards the exit, and Flowey follows.

"Wait!" he says. "I, um... it's really scary down here, isn't it? A lot of these traps and monsters are really, really dangerous. I think... it'd be best if we stuck together."

You consider his offer. It's true, you wouldn't have survived that encounter with Asgore if it hadn't been for Flowey. Even if you can come back to life... dying hurts. Healing magic would definitely come in handy.

"And I... I'd like it if we could be friends," Flowey finishes, very quietly.

Well, you can't say no to that. You lean down and do you best to hug him. "Sure," you say. But as you release him, a nagging thought occurs to you. "But you can't hurt anyone."

"What?!" He gapes at you. "Wh-why would you think I would do such a horrible thing?" He looks genuinely horrified, and even... afraid? Guilt washes over you. Everything about this place has been so violent, but... maybe he really is different.

"Uh, s-sorry," you mutter. "Let's keep going."

"Yeah, let's!"

You walk across the dark cavern, your footsteps echoing while Flowey swims through the rock, and open the door to the rest of the Underground.