An audience… with the king…

The solemn atmosphere of the road to New Home allowed Alphys to ruminate on Asgore's request. To have been asked to meet personally with the king was an honor bestowed upon only the most exceptional of monsters—not someone with the likes of her.

Alphys didn't amount to anything: she was just a nerd who did a bit of tinkering in her spare time. Her tinkering had incidentally led to the creation of the underground's hottest celebrity, but Alphys didn't want to take too much credit for that. After all, she had only constructed Mettaton's body, not his charisma and personality. It wasn't like anyone knew she had anything to do with it, and even if they did, why would Asgore care?

As she walked, she tried to repress her memories of the call—but the scene played out in her mind again and again, every painful detail perfectly intact.

...

It wasn't unusual for Alphys to get phone calls throughout the day. In fact, Catty had called an hour ago to tell her about something she and Bratty found at the garbage dump that they thought she would like. Mettaton dialed her a lot, too, usually to request a minor repair or to inquire about the progress she had made on his new body. It had become so routine that Alphys didn't bother to check the ID.

"Hellooo?"

There was a worrying moment of silence, and then came a voice that turned Alphys to stone. "Er… howdy! This is Asgore Dreemurr." It was followed by an uncertain chuckle.

A knot had formed in Alphys throat and she could barely speak. "A-Asgore? I mean… Your M-Majesty! I th-think you have the wrong n-n-number, haha!"

Asgore continued, "Is this, uh..." He paused, as if he was reading something off a paper. "Dr. Al-fiss? Dr… I am sorry, I do not know how to pronounce this name."

Alphys's heart was pounding too hard for her to think anything of the king's lack of dignity. For a second she thought he really was looking for someone else, but then she was hit by the reality of just how unlikely that would be. She tried in vain to gather herself and said, "Y-yes, this is Dr. Alphys."

"Ah." There was another pause. "Did I call at a bad time? I can call again later if you would like."

"No, no! That's not it at all. I just… I was j-just…" Alphys broke into a giggle. She was making an absolute fool of herself, and in front of the king of all people! She couldn't shake the fear that, after hearing how much of a blubbering mess she was, Asgore would change his mind and hang up on her. Alphys wouldn't be able to live with the humiliation.

"Well," said Asgore, "there is something that I would like to discuss. I think it would be best if we met in my castle."

Alphys's mouth was hanging open. "O-okay," she whimpered in a pathetic voice. Alphys still hadn't the slightest idea what the king wanted with her, and she had a feeling she wasn't going to find out over the phone. "When should I, uh..."

"Come when you are ready."

Alphys nodded, only to remember that Asgore couldn't see her. Her face turned bright red. "Y-yeah! I mean, uh, all right. I'll be there as soon as possible, Your Majesty!" Alphys froze. Was she supposed to hang up now? It didn't matter; she couldn't afford to embarrass herself any further. She scrambled to end the call, her hands shaking violently. Then, Alphys threw her phone on the ground and let out a much needed scream.

Alphys stood, trembling, the king's voice ringing in her head. She listened for a moment, and then something occurred to her: it wasn't in her head. Oh. No. She wordlessly bent over and picked up the phone. Asgore's frantic cries were penetrating the receiver: "Dr. Alphys? What happened? Are you okay? Please answer me! Dr. Alphyyys!"

"Everything's… fine," she said without bringing the phone to her ear. She didn't wait for Asgore to respond. Alphys made sure to hang up, and then broke into a sob.

...

Alphys wiped her sweaty palms on her dress. Why, oh why hadn't she just stayed home? Her regret grew stronger with every step she took, and yet something was pushing her forward. In the midst of all her anxiety was a small, yet powerful desire. Although it seemed somewhat contradictory, she longed for attention—specifically, recognition. It was a vicious cycle: her self-esteem was low because her talents were never recognized, but her low self-esteem prevented her from pursuing that recognition.

She envied Mettaton, who was naturally sure of himself. Not only that, but he was able to take on any persona he wanted. While it might have just been an act, it was a very convincing one. Alphys wished she could hide behind a guise of confidence, even if she didn't feel that way on the inside. Alas, unlike Mettaton, she was not an actor.

But now, an opportunity like none other had been thrust upon her. This was Alphys's chance to prove herself to not only the king, but possibly the entire underground as well. It was daunting, but she—or part of her, at least—was up to the challenge.

Alphys's anxiety peaked. What if this wasn't about her talents at all? It was arrogant of her to make an assumption like that. Perhaps Asgore simply wanted her to run an errand. No, that couldn't be it. Why would Asgore ask a random citizen to do something for him when he had the Royal Guard at his beck and call? Alphys sifted through other possibilities, but none of them made any sense. It had to be about her.

Finally, the castle came into view. At first, Alphys was relieved because her legs were killing her and she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to walk, but her stress returned when she realized how close she was to her confrontation. She stopped before she reached the gates, knowing that once she passed through, there would be no turning back. Alphys closed her eyes, gulped, and stepped forward.

The castle's interior was just as empty as the road leading to it. Alphys had been expecting a member of the Royal Guard to escort her to the king, but all that was there to guide her was a hastily drawn arrow on a sheet of paper by the stairs. The humbleness of the sign surprised her. Even when they were speaking on the phone, she had thought of Asgore as someone who was above her. Beneath his royal title, however, he was a monster just like her—a monster who made mistakes, and didn't always know what to say, and settled for mediocrity at times. Alphys felt a little less afraid.

After making her way down the stairs and through a couple of corridors, Alphys wanted nothing more than to put her feet up and rest for a bit. For someone who practically only ever left home to scavenge at the local garbage dump, Alphys's journey to the castle had been quite the endeavor. She didn't even want to think about the walk back. Using what little energy she had left, she staggered into the throne room.

Alphys gaped in awe. Surrounding Asgore's throne was a bed of beautiful flowers, unlike anything she had ever seen before. At the center of the garden, directly in front of the throne, was a flower that was even bigger and more stunning than all the others. It seemed as though Asgore cherished that one in particular.

Oh, that's right! Asgore! Alphys had been too fixated on the plants to notice that the king was not in the room. Her heart sank. After all that, Asgore didn't even show up? Alphys put her head down and sighed. "Your Majesty?" she called, though her voice wasn't very loud. "Are you there? It's me, Dr. Alphys..."

A large figure appeared from the door at the other end of the room. It was a furry, goat-like monster with a beard the color of the flowers in the garden. His massive form was draped in purple robes, and between his horns sat a crown. In spite of his size, his movements were controlled, and he took extra care not to spill the contents of the tray in his arms. He gave off an air of nobility, but his features were gentle and kind. "Oh, hello there! I was afraid you were not going to come, especially after… well, you do appear to be fine."

Alphys stepped back as his shadow fell over her, feeling very small and insecure. She had seen Asgore on TV plenty of times, but the tiny screen didn't do him justice. He was much grander and more imposing in person… and handsomer. Alphys knew she was blushing. She hoped Asgore wouldn't notice.

Asgore frowned when she didn't say anything. He set the tray on the ground. "I thought I'd make us some tea. Would you like a cup?"

"Um..." Alphys's eyes darted from Asgore, to the teapot and cups on the tray, and then back to Asgore. She felt like it would be impolite to refuse, and she had worked up quite a thirst, anyway. "Yes p-please, Your Majesty."

"Please call me Mr. Dreemurr," Asgore said as he poured her a cup. "I apologize if it is a little cold." He handed it to Alphys, only for it to slip out of her claws and shatter against the ground.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Alphys wailed, pressing her hands against her cheeks. "I'm such a klutz, oh god..."

Asgore gave a calm smile. "It's okay, Dr. Alphys. I am not upset." He watched as the spilled tea was soaked up by the dirt. "That tea was made with the flowers in this garden. I suppose it is going back home now."

Alphys sniffled and stared at the mess, too mortified to say anything.

"You can have my cup if you would like," Asgore offered, holding up the remaining teacup.

Alphys shook her head. "N-no thanks. I don't want to b-break any more of your things. I'm not really that thirsty, anyway."

The king dipped his head in acceptance. After taking a sip of his tea, he said, "You are probably wondering why I asked you to come here. Or perhaps you already know."

Alphys's heart was beginning to race. This was it. "No idea, Your—Mr. Dreemurr."

"It was brought to my attention that you created that robot on TV. What was its name again?"

"M-Mettaton?" blurted Alphys.

"Yes, that was it. Memettaton. Forgive me, I am not good with names."

"It's just Mettaton," she corrected. "What… what is it about Mettaton?"

"Oh." Asgore took another swig of tea. "I was also informed that Mettaton is not an ordinary robot. Is it true that Mettaton has a soul?"

"W-well, yes. I g-guess you could say that he d-d-does have a soul." Alphys wasn't sure where the king was going with this.

There was a sparkle in his eyes. "That... is incredible. Do you understand the magnitude of your discovery? You are a gifted young woman, Dr. Alphys."

She blinked. "Wait… what?" As good as the praise felt, Alphys was utterly confused.

"Come with me. There is something I would like you to see." He turned and headed toward the door on the far end of the room. Alphys hesitated for a second, and then followed him inside.

Alphys gasped. Before her was an endless passage made of bands of magic that seemed to bend and shift in the light. It was hypnotizing to look at, and Alphys had to pry her eyes away to keep from losing herself in the void.

Asgore said, "I have a feeling you know what this is."

"The… Barrier," Alphys breathed. Every monster knew the story of the Barrier, but it felt surreal to be seeing it with her own eyes. Knowing that she was so close, and yet so far away from the surface world sent a shiver down her spine. She was so caught up in the moment that she seemed to have forgotten that Asgore was showing her the Barrier for a reason.

"In order to destroy the Barrier, I need the power of seven human souls. I have amassed six of them so far. They are here with me now."

Alphys watched as seven canisters rose from the ground. Each of them contained a swirling, glowing ball of energy forming the shape of a heart—except for one, which was empty. Alphys's sense of wonder was beginning to wear off, and suddenly, she had a bad feeling.

"I do not know when I will obtain a seventh human soul. It could take months. Years. Or it is possible that I will never find the final soul. I have tasked my Royal Guard with hunting for humans that have fallen underground, but it is all up to luck. It is a miracle that I have managed to collect even one soul." Asgore gave Alphys a hard stare. "But you. Using your knowledge of souls… you could change this. You could find a way to create a human soul. With your help, freedom might finally be within reach. That is why I would like to bestow upon you the honor of serving as my Royal Scientist."

Everything clicked. It was true that she had built the robot Mettaton, and it was true that Mettaton had a soul—but that was because Mettaton was being inhabited by a ghost! Alphys hadn't created a soul, nor had she discovered a way to separate a monster's soul from its physical being. She didn't even know anything about souls! All she had done was put together a body for an incorporeal monster.

Alphys felt sick. It had all been a misunderstanding. Her journey was over; it was time for her to tell Asgore the truth and go back home. She had been so close to getting the recognition she so desperately craved, just like how she was standing so close to the surface world. In both cases, there was a barrier blocking her way. While the Barrier could be unlocked with the power of seven human souls, it occurred to Alphys that the other, metaphorical barrier required only the belief of a single person—Asgore.

It didn't matter, Alphys realized, if she was actually capable of what Asgore believed she could do. He had already presented her with the opportunity to assume a prestigious position. All she had to do was say yes, and the rest was history. Just holding the title of Royal Scientist was bound to earn her some respect and recognition, and it wasn't like she planned on just having it for show. Alphys vowed to sincerely dedicate herself to whatever tasks Asgore asked for her to complete. She may not have known a thing about souls, but that didn't mean she couldn't learn. She was a smart, capable monster, and maybe—just maybe—she would discover something worthwhile.

Part of her knew it would be wrong. What if the king found out she was lying? Then again, Alphys had technically never lied at all. It would be Asgore's own fault for jumping to conclusions and not making his inquiries specific enough. Alphys tried to imagine other potential consequences of her choice. Nothing she could think of seemed bad enough to convince her that it wasn't worth giving it a shot.

I'm going to do it, Alphys decided. I'm going to fake it till I make it. She turned to face Asgore, who was patiently awaiting a response. Alphys declared, loud and clear, "I would be honored to be your Royal Scientist, Mr. Dreemurr."

When Alphys saw Asgore grin, she realized she had made the wrong choice. His grin may have been genuine, but the reason he was grinning was not. This was what Alphys was going to have to put up with: recognition she didn't deserve for things she had never done. There was nothing for her to be proud of. She had consigned herself to a life of lies; a performance in which she was the only actor. But she wasn't an actor. She was Dr. Alphys—a geek, a coward, a liar, and now, a Royal Scientist.

...

ENTRY NUMBER 1
This is it. Time to do what the King has asked me to do.
I will create the power to free us all.
I will unleash the power of the SOUL.