CORRELICTUM
Prologue
It was dark, it was cold, and it was wet.
The constant plunking of water pelting the moldy tile-work from the gaping maw that once was the entrance to this godforsaken place was all that was left to keep company to the youth. A deserved fate, if one were to recite his morbid thoughts.
Asriel sighed. How long had it been by now? Weeks? Months? It may have even been years… Time had a way of slipping by without his knowing nowadays. He was unused to the consistent pace it now employed. Once, it was all but too easy to pull back the past. But now? Now, there was nothing to grip. No desperation, no knowledge, and oddly enough…
No regrets.
Yes, despite the damnable actions he once sought to and the twisted morality behind them, he was contented with the result. In the end, as he had told Frisk, he would not live in doubt. The underground was free from their imprisonment, and he was free from the spirit that haunted him. Asking for more would be delusional.
But while the regrets were gone, the worries would stay. Asriel feared many things now, most of them fairly petty and common, remnants of his childhood. The spiders were an example of this. He would always notice them scuttling across the walls, praying that they would keep their distance. Despite their helpful nature, they unnerved him.
There was an awful scraping sound that resonated throughout the ruins on the odd night. Asriel was unsure as to what it was exactly, but he cared not to find out.
Ghosts terrified him too, as they had before his death. Their supernatural presence laid an air of intimidation that felt misplaced to the young monster. He was often told that that was a fear shared among many. Although that did little to console him.
His timid personality returning was a welcome comfort in a sense, yet it served as a persistent reminder of his greatest fear.
Above all else, Asriel feared himself. He feared what his current state meant, and the recurring dreams that, well, didn't plague him per se—but they certainly didn't leave him alone. They were unusual dreams, consisting of his family and friends, sitting quietly together in a strange otherworldly light. In spite of their odd nature, they were pleasant, and he liked them. That was the scariest part. He secretly hoped and prayed for their fulfillment. And he knew that he couldn't allow that to happen.
His only solace was that one day soon, he would stop feeling.
"I can't take much more of this…"
It was scary to not know when his reversion would come, despite knowing that it was inevitable. His first estimation was one of hours, just a short few hours so that he might make amends. But of course, Frisk found him within minutes. They insisted that Asriel join them in leaving the underground, but he simply could not follow. The hearts of those who he would otherwise break with his flowery form would remain intact, if a little heavy.
Yet he still resided within his true form.
At first realization, days after his prediction was proven wildly incorrect, he became hopeful. That detestable form was his bane, and it bent him in ways that tore him apart alongside those around him. Still, he did not believe that reprise could last for long.
There was evidence to that doubt. He was covered in what looked like plant-life; vine-like tendrils grew around his entire body and small fronds were poking through his fur. The first traces of this appeared a few days after Frisk had left. He had tried removing the substance with a plastic knife he found lying in the ruins, but was only met with a wracking pain. It was as though he had cut himself... That had to be a part of the reversion, didn't it? It was fusing with him... and it would eventually take over.
Asriel stood up. It was getting too dark to see in this room.
It probably didn't matter in the end. The result—delayed or otherwise, would be the same: Peace for the people and solitude for him. Solitude in these empty ruins, with nothing but the raindrops and their echos to keep company. Whether in the body of his own or the body of that flower, he wouldn't affect the peaceful world that was finally set in place. That is what he had prepared himself for.
He was not prepared.
A small draft flowed through the kitchen from an open window. It carried with it a subtle smell of burning firewood and freshly tilled soil. It was by all accounts a beautiful day. Sadly, it would go unnoticed by the owner of the kitchen, who was slowly pacing back and forth in front of the counter.
Toriel was truly beginning to worry. Frisk had been locked in their room for hours now. It was well past noon and the day was wasting away. That couldn't be good for one's health, she reckoned. The breakfast she prepared that morning was already cold and had begun to harden.
Such a waste of food...
But this worrisome behavior that Frisk displayed is something that all children go through, right? Of course, they weren't exactly a child anymore, it had been a few years since the escape from the underground. Toriel had guessed Frisk was a teenager by now, compared with her other students. It may very well be the start of the infamous teenage rebellion she had read about.
Maybe she should let things take their course. Leave them some space to come to terms with growing up.
But that didn't feel right. It had been like this for months now, every weekend Frisk locked themselves in the bedroom and wouldn't come out without a practical reason. Food, bathroom, or school. Something was bothering them. She didn't understand what exactly, so she had left it alone for a time. But now it had gone on long enough.
It was time to intervene.
... Somehow.
But first, she needed to prepare lunch.
"Perhaps I should ask Sans for advice..."
Frisk was lying on the bed, arms crossed behind their head. The room was a stuffy golden color from sunlight hitting the thin drapes. Frisk hadn't cleaned it in months. There was hardly any push to do so. But that only made the dreich room all the more-so, and the result was perpetuating.
It felt empty in spite of the clutter.
The youth let their mind wander to odd places on days like these—or rather—especially on days like these. School days being the only upset in that train of thought. School was tedious, very little of it interested Frisk in a meaningful way. The only reason they continued was because of Toriel. She seemed happy to be teaching for once. It would be bad to take that from her.
Besides, there wasn't much else to do. Other than reflect, that is.
Frisk's thoughts always managed to lead back to the underground. That may not be all that surprising considering the spectacular adventure had there. The subject of what happened to the monsters after they had escaped became one of the most common daydreams for Frisk.
Some monster's circumstances Frisk already knew about and therefore didn't leave much to the imagination. Sans, for instance, kept up with Toriel by telephone often, sharing the occasional risible pun. Although he hadn't been seen in person for a long while. His brother Papyrus still lived with him and found employment at a tailor's shop, which was a very busy place apparently. Frisk rarely got calls from him anymore due to that.
There was Mettaton, who was a daily sight on the television. He had gained a huge human following not too long after the public announcement of monsters. Frisk had worried in the early days after the escape that the human TV networks would be too alien and unforgiving for the robot. Then again, Mettaton might have been playing the humans more than they could ever play him.
Dr. Alphys and Undyne had a strong public eye on them too, with the former making some important scientific advancements in science... of some description. And the latter gained a name for herself in a form of martial arts. Frisk couldn't remember what it was called, and occasionally frustrated the warrior with an incorrect pronunciation or an incorrect term. She had said a while back that she had won some tournaments, so it must mean she was doing well. Good for her.
But what about the monsters that Frisk didn't see since the escape? There were a lot of them. Napstablook, Temmie, Asriel, Aaron, all of the Dog family? Heats Flamesman?
Asriel?
What about Asriel? Frisk knew for certain he didn't escape with the others, probably still tending to the flowers. Or maybe he was making friends with them.
That idolum brought about a small chuckle. I'd pay to see that.
Frisk had regrets regarding Asriel. Beyond just being unable to truly save him, it was painful to know that even if they were to go back to the ruins, Asriel had managed to delude himself with pessimistic nonsense. He believed he shouldn't see his friends or family because—well Frisk assumed that he thought Flowey may do something terrible to his family.
But still, Asriel was delusional. If he had only come with, Frisk was sure that he could make friends with everyone as Flowey, or at least say farewell to Toriel and Asgore before reverting. Or maybe he could apologize for all the terrible things he had done and said... and that he may possibly say in the future...
Frisk understood how Asriel couldn't bring himself to face everyone with all of that on his shoulders. And the risk of losing himself in the reversion sounded plausible enough. Likely even.
But the damn frustration was still there. And it had been there since the day Frisk left the ruins.
I at least wanna talk with you again... Maybe about something fun instead of a goodbye?
Frisk sighed. Dark thoughts like these always start popping up as the boredom seeped in. They needed to get out and do something, maybe get a hobby...
I wonder if he has a hobby...
"Sans! Are we really going to visit the human? After all this time?" Papyrus nearly skipped along the broken sidewalk. "I wonder if they missed me?"
"Knowing them? Definitely." Sans was keeping a steady pace beside his brother. It had been awhile since they met face to face with Frisk and Toriel, almost half a year. He had to wonder what the human's life was like so long after escaping the underground. Toriel sounded worried when she called earlier. It seemed that Frisk wouldn't leave their room. Maybe it was seasonal depression; Sans had heard around that that was fairly common among humans...
"HAH, of course they missed me! Who wouldn't? Just imagine, dear brother, six months without my company? Bah, it must have been torture! We must make haste, our friend's sanity is in danger!" Papyrus bolted off ahead, leaving Sans to his saunter.
Maybe Frisk was just bored.
...
Hopefully not.
