AN: Hello everyone! Welcome! For those who have read my work before, welcome back! ^w^

The idea for this fic came a little while ago when I was conversing with a friend and throwing theories around (because what else do you do when talking to other Undertale freaks) and this series of questions started to spark off like fireworks in the back of my mind. Before I knew, I had a new story that I just HAD to get out!

If you're a fan or a follower of my other story, "The CORE of the Matter" (Sticks and Stones), this is goes at slightly different speed and has a COMPLETELY different feel. These chapters will be much shorter and I don't plan for it to go on for very long. But all the same, I hope everyone has a good time!

That being said, let's get right into it!


Chapter 1

Prologue

The sun was already low in the sky that day when you decided to go for a walk. The others were a bit loud, bringing up references and stories and going on lengthy tangents that completely excluded you. The way they speak and they way they laugh is like they were purposefully trying to exclude you. The whole thing was starting to annoy you. You thought that you would let them be for a bit and that you would get away for just a moment to wander the mountain and explore. The others don't seem to mind, nor do any seem to want to join you. So you venture off on your own.

You are not from around this area. You are here visiting some old friends who moved out this way when you were in elementary school. You tried to keep in contact, calling on the phone and writing letters, but after a couple of years, those stopped and it seemed your friendship stopped with them.

This is the first time they ever invited you to their town.

Or rather, this is the first time their parents thought that maybe they should invite you over to their new town and your former friends begrudgingly obliged.

Ebott. What a funny name. Almost like it was backward or something.

And what a funny name for a mountain.

You muse on the thought for a while as you wander. Along the way, you happen to pick up a pretty decently sized stick and you decide to keep it with you, swinging it around and hitting tree trunks and rocks in an undetermined pattern as you walk aimlessly.

You feel something sharp in your gut. The pang of hunger. You can see just how late it really is. Dinner would be ready soon. With this thought in mind, you decide that perhaps you should be heading back.

You turn to make your return trip down the mountain. The sun is setting and there is a bit of a chill in the air, causing you to wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm. Of course, you left your jacket and all of your other items down at the base of the mountain with your friends and your striped shirt isn't quite warm enough for what was sure to be a chilly night.

Perhaps sooner was better than later. You begin to walk back down the mountain.

And that's when you hear it: Singing. A woman's voice seems to resonate from within the mountain and it floats through the air, calling out to anyone who will take a moment and listen.

For some reason, she sounds so sad.

You stall for a moment and listen to her, following the tranquil melody; the rises and falls, the swells and decrescendos. She tells you her story through her song even without the need for words and within minutes of listening, you feel as if you know her. But beyond that, you know that she is in pain.

If she is somewhere on this mountain, there has to be something you can do to help her.

But this is Mt. Ebott.

You know the stories and you've heard the tales. Those who climb Mt. Ebott never return. Is this why? Is this how people end up falling? The call of this song and the thought of maybe being able to do something about it? Like the call of a siren, luring people to their own demise. Is this what she does? Is this how she hunts? By making you feel sorry for her? By pulling on your heartstrings and making you feel like maybe there could be something you can do to help set her heart at ease.

You hesitate, contemplating for a moment.

You know the best thing to do would just to head back. You have friends who are waiting for you. You have a meal that will surely get cold if you linger.

But the sound of the song haunts you.

If there was just something you could do. Maybe if you could help, even just a little. Maybe you could just let her know that you heard her and that you were listening.

You listen intently, using what you can gather in an attempt to locate where the sound is coming from. The soft notes lead you higher up the mountain and to an open area where the vines have grown in an outcropping over the ground. This is where the sound is loudest and the most clear. It must be coming from here.

As you approach the area, the singing stops. You hear a long sigh, but nothing more.

You have to be careful with your steps. You are not blind. You see the gaping hole in the ground.

You stand very near the large hole and look over the edge into the cavern, hoping to maybe hear the song again. Or at least converse with the owner of the voice.

There is a part of you that is hesitant. If the voice was coming from within the hole in the ground, that meant that the owner really was a monster. That meant that all of the stories and all of the legends were true.

That is reason enough not to go any nearer toward the hole. If what you heard was really the voice of a monster, then surely she would try to eat you as soon as she saw you. But . . . it also meant that she woudn't be able to if she couldn't get to you. After all, the legends said that all of the monsters had been trapped under a magic barrier for a long long time. And with a hole this large and a cavern this deep, there is no way to get up to where you are.

You should be safe from up here.

And her voice did sound so sad.

You are filled with DETERMINATION.

You stand near the edge and call down into the cavern. Perhaps the voice will hear you and she will return. Perhaps the two of you could talk and you could find out why she was so sad.

You call again and you receive no response.

Perhaps once more. If she answers, then good, if she doesn't, then you're no worse off for trying.

You call again for the owner of the voice.

But nobody came.

You let out a breath, deciding that it was probably best to cut your losses and finally head back down the mountain for dinner. You are not stupid. Perhaps a bit reckless, but not unintelligent. You know when a mission is hopeless and you know when you should throw in the towel.

You are not stupid . . .

You are, however, very clumsy.

As you turn to head back down the mountain, you don't seem to notice the vine at your foot. It had been there before, hadn't it? Of course it had. This whole area is covered in vines.

Well, whether or not the vine had been there before. It is definitely there now and it is definitely trapping your ankle as you try to pull away.

And you are definitely falling.

You seem to pass the ground and it zooms past you as you continue downward. The ground rushes up to meet you. There is a flash of gold and you hit something solid.

Your File is Saved.


AN: Well, so far, this should sound pretty familiar. Even if the circumstances differ from theory to theory and from story to story, you have found yourself in the Underground. Now that you're there, what choices will present themselves? What will you do?

Who knows, there may be some situations where, just like in game, I may ask you to make a choice that helps shape how this story plays out! Until then, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and I'll see you in the next!

Stay tuned!