Frisk could not remember the last time that they had seen another human being. They had escaped from the world of humans by going on a journey which eventually landed them on Mt. Ebott. Since falling into the underground, they had not truly left the underground, as they would reset back to the beginning of their adventure every time the monsters returned to the surface. They knew that this was cruel – that, by resetting, they were preventing all their friends from experiencing their future lives. Perhaps, by doing this, they had made themselves the worst person of them all, and it was all for their own fear of not being able to find their own happiness.

The human that was staring at Frisk had red eyes and dark brown hair about the same length as their own and wore a green sweater with a single yellow stripe across it. Frisk had not seen many humans with red eyes before, but they had always found red eyes to be pretty. It was too bad that this sentiment was not shared by most other humans. People with red eyes were often feared and shunned for being too different.

"Your hand is completely mangled," the red-eyed human said, pointing at the hand that Sans had crushed with their foot. "If you do not find someone to heal that hand, you will probably end up losing it."

It was strange that this was the first thing the human was saying to them. Frisk had not even introduced themselves yet, or explained how they ended up here. Not that they could. All they remembered after being kicked off the bridge was falling into a bright white light before waking up and finding this red-eyed human. The memory of that encounter with Sans was painful just to think about. They were still so confused.

When Frisk tried to move their hand, they yelped in pain. The red-eyed human grabbed their wrist.

"That was stupid. Do not move your hand while it is so injured," the human said. "Can you keep still, absolutely still? If not, then you are going to be extremely troublesome."

In response, Frisk giggled. They could not help but laugh at this human's overly formal speech and tone.

"What is so funny?"

Frisk yelped again as their arm was yanked up by the other human. Keeping their hand up, Frisk carefully got back onto their feet. They felt a little bit shaky, but aside from their hand, nothing else in their body seemed to be broken.

"You talk kind of funny," Frisk said.

"How I talk has nothing to do with your situation. Now, I have some questions for you. Why are you here?"

"I don't know, to be honest."

'That does not make any sense."

"Well, I was in the Core, and I, ummm, accidentally fell off the bridge and landed in the big white light. Then I woke up in this room beside you."

"This room is my house."

Frisk was surprised that this room, though large and spacious, could be someone's house. The walls were dilapidated and full of cracks, with only a single dust-covered window. A counter to their left looked like an old coal stove. Beside the stove was a wooden cupboard. There was a low sitting table, a drawer, and a sleeping mat at the other corner of the room. A chandelier bearing four light bulbs provided the room with a dim yellow light.

"I was outside a moment ago and I saw a flash of white light. When I walked in, you were lying on the floor, unconscious," the human continued. "I had thought you were an intruder, but you do not look the type."

Frisk giggled. "Really? That's nice of you to say."

The human suddenly took out a knife – from where, Frisk did not even have time to see – and held it to Frisk's throat.

"Do not joke around with me," the human said, narrowing their red eyes. "I find your story about being in the Core to be rather hard to believe."

"I'm telling the truth!"

The human pressed the knife into Frisk's neck, drawing out blood. Frisk felt panic beginning to settle in.

"Really? Then, tell me. What were you doing in the Core? And which Core was it?"

"The...the fourth one, I think."

"How interesting. There was an incident at the fourth Core yesterday. An act of terrorism, to be specific. Someone sneaked into the place and used powerful magic to blow up the Core's energy generator. The resulting explosion flattened a good portion of the city, resulting in hundreds of dead humans and monsters and thousands of casualties."

Frisk went pale and gulped. So, what had happened the other day between them and Sans was real. Sans really did mean to kick them off the bridge and blow up the Core.

"This...this isn't right," Frisk said in a choked voice. "This shouldn't be happening! Tell me, where am I? Is this the Underground? What's going on in here?"

The red-eyed human finally backed off, a look of bewilderment coming over their face.

"Of course this is the underground. Where else did you think it was?"

"But why?! The underground wasn't like this before! It was more...quiet...and peaceful...and, and-"

Cold steel was pressed against Frisk's neck once more.

"I will be frank. I think you are delusional. Or, perhaps, you have amnesia. You are talking nonsense."

Frisk wanted to cry. "I'm telling the truth! I was in the fourth Core when it happened! I was with...two people, and...I thought they were my friends, but one of them threw me off the bridge!"

"Then why are you alive? And, more importantly, why are you here?"

Frisk wanted to say that they really didn't know anything, but reflexively moved their broken hand and yelped in pain. They stumbled backwards and nearly crashed to the floor, but a firm hand grabbed their other arm and lifted them up.

"Forget it," the red-eyed human said, returning their knife into their pocket. "You are far too clueless to be of any danger to me. Furthermore, if you do not get that hand treated, it is going to kill you."

"...Thanks?" Frisk said, surprised at the human's sudden kindness.

The red-eyed human glared at them. "Do not mistake my refusal to kill you as kindness. I think you may have amnesia, or some other problem with your head. I am leaving you alive only because I do not have any idea who you are."

"Still, thank you."

"Be quiet. By showing up in my house, uninvited and clueless, you are making yourself a big nuisance, especially with that broken hand."

"I don't know what to do."

"First of all, that hand needs to be treated."

Frisk watched as the red-eyed human went to the back of the room to search through their closet before returning with a bottle of red liquid.

"I do not have anything that can mend your hand," they said. "So, for now, I will be giving you this medicine. It is an analgesic and will numb your pain. After, I will be taking you to someone who can help you."

"Thank you so much."

Frisk's gratitude transformed quickly into horror when the human took out a syringe and poured the red medicine into it.

"Wait!"

"Hold up your hand. I am going to inject the medicine directly into your bloodstream."

"But, that's going to hurt, isn't it?"

The look on the human's face made it clear that they had no patience left. Frisk tried to raise their mangled hand, but shouted in pain. Sighing, the human grabbed Frisk's wrist by themselves before inserting the needle into their skin. A jolt of sharp pain went through Frisk's hand, but they kept themselves from screaming again. Instead, they stared into the human's red eyes, which were focused on the syringe as it was emptied of the red liquid. Those eyes were so pretty.

"By the way," Frisk said in a shaky voice, "My name is Frisk."

The other human remained silent until they pulled out the needle.

"I am Chara."

"That's a nice name."

Chara ignored Frisk's comment and put the syringe and medicine back into the closet. Frisk felt the medicine work immediately, and their hand became so numb that they could not even feel it anymore. As a result, their arm just sort of sunk to their side as they could barely move it.

"I will be taking you out now to a place where you can get your hand healed," Chara said.

"Really? Chara, thank you so much!"

"Your excessive thanking is getting on my nerves."

'It's just that, well, I didn't expect you to help me, that's all."

"I must remind you again to not mistake my help for kindness. You are still being a burden to me right now. I am only helping you to get you out of my life as quickly as possible. Do not expect any more."

Frisk looked away.

They walked out of the house together, arriving onto a dirty street that was filled with houses as small and crumbling as Chara's. As they walked down the street, Frisk began to see a resemblance between this place and the Ruins. A lot of the architecture looked the same, and the walls had a faded purple colour. Large oak trees grew along the street. Most of them were bare, and the floor was covered in crumpled brown and orange leaves.

This place, Frisk realized, was what the ruins looked like if people had settled into the Ruins again.

"If you don't mind," Frisk began in a small voice, "can you tell me a bit about the history of this place?"

Chara looked at them weirdly. "What is there to talk about?"

"Just...you know. How this place came to be. Why people settled here."

"You do not know even that?"

"I...don't. Sorry. I think I do have amnesia."

Chara sighed and began walking faster, forcing Frisk to catch up to their pace.

"Chara?"

"Tell me what you do know. Start from the very beginning," Chara replied, "so I don't need to fill in unnecessary details for you."

"Well...if we go back to the VERY beginning...then, ummm, long ago, there was a war between humans and monsters, and all the monsters were driven underground. Then, the humans put up a barrier to prevent monsters from coming out, and only the combined power of seven human souls was enough to break down the barrier, right?"

Chara slowed their pace and stared at Frisk incredulously.

"...Am I wrong?" Frisk asked.

"You do have amnesia, it seems," Chara said. "A horrible case of it, in fact. I have never met anyone as confused about things as you."

Frisk lowered their head, again. "Then...what did happened?"

"There WAS a war between humans and monsters. It happened a thousand years ago." Chara looked up at the dark ceiling hanging above them as they spoke. "The war was so terrible that it completely ravaged the surface, rendering it inhabitable. So, the remnants of humanity and monsters retreated underground in order to survive. They realized that they could not have another war so destructive, so they made peace with each other. We have all been living underground ever since."

Frisk remained silent. It was now beyond a shadow of a doubt. This was a different underground, a completely different world than the underground that they knew and loved.

And, somehow, their persistent resetting had landed them in this world.

"I see," Frisk said at last.

"I am not sure where you thought up of all that nonsense above humans imprisoning monsters underground with a barrier. Perhaps that would have made sense a thousand years ago, when war divided us and made us hell bent on killing each other. Now, however – it is unthinkable."

Unthinkable? Then why did Sans blow up the Core and kill so many people?

"...Ignore that," Frisk said. "Like I said, I probably have amnesia."

After walking for about ten minutes, they arrived in front of a large house that Frisk recognized immediately. Their heart began pounding as Chara walked up to the front door and opened it with a key. They almost rushed into the house to confirm that the person inside was who they thought she was.

It was Toriel!

Frisk had to keep themselves from running up to her and hugging her. They kept themselves composed, but could not hide the smile that was slowly creeping over their lips. Toriel was sitting on a familiarly large chair, reading a book about snails. The house looked quite a bit smaller than they remembered it.

"Mother," Chara said, walking towards Toriel. "I have brought a guest who is in need of some help with a broken hand."

"Oh?"

Toriel stood up and walked over to see Frisk's hand.

"My dear child," she said. "How did your hand ever get in such a bad shape? Do not worry. I will heal you with my magic."

"Thank you, T-I mean, ummm, Chara's mother," Frisk said.

"Please, call me Toriel."

Frisk glanced nervously back and forth between Chara and Toriel, hoping that neither of them had caught that slip of their tongue. Fortunately, it did not seem that either of them did.

"Okay. Thank you, Toriel. My name is Frisk."

"What a nice name!"

While Toriel set to work healing Frisk's hand, Chara went to the kitchen and began making some yellow flower tea. They returned fifteen minutes later with cups for the three of them.

"Toriel is my foster mother," Chara said. "She took me in when I was a child."

Frisk remembered how, in that other underground, Toriel had adopted many children before them, only to lose them all as they each went out beyond the ruins to attempt to escape the underground. In a strange, perhaps happy way, things were still the same in this world. Toriel still adopted a child, and this time, she was able to keep them.

"I have amnesia," Frisk blurted out. "So...ummm, I kind of don't know about anything around here."

"Oh dear, oh dear," Toriel said. "I am glad that Chara found you, especially with your hand in such a bad shape. I cannot imagine what would have happened otherwise."

"It's okay," Frisk said. "But...umm, if you don't mind, can you fill me in a bit about this world?"

Toriel looked at Frisk kindly. "What would you like to know?"

"Just...everything, I guess. Nothing looks familiar to me."

"All you need to know is that things have not been going well lately," Chara said. There was an angry gleam in their eyes. "Most of the underground has turned into a slum. All of the available land has turned into a city or part of a city. Our population has kept increasing, and there is overpopulation everywhere. The only people living a good life is the royal family."

"The...royal family?"

Chara's tone became venemous. "Yes. While the rest of us toil away our days in these dark, crowded slums, the royal family live a life of luxury in their tower far above the Hotland plateau."

"What are their names?"

"The greedy King Asgore, and the cruel Prince Asriel. As for their queen, she fled the family several years ago, and no one has seen her since."

Frisk looked up at Toriel, noticing a sad look in her eyes.

"Frisk. Since you say that you do not know anything, do you think I can trust you with a secret?" Toriel asked.

Frisk nodded.

"Mother, please, do not say it," Chara said. "Frisk is a stranger – a clueless one, I must admit, but still not a person whom I would trust with a secret."

"It is all right, Chara," Toriel said. "I feel that Frisk has a gentle nature. If they do not remember who they are, and has no home to return to, then I would like to adopt them."

Although Frisk had always chosen to fight Toriel before, they felt that things this time were too different. The circumstances were impossible to compare. They did not mind being adopted by Toriel at all.

"Thank you...Toriel. I mean, should I say, mother?" Frisk said.

"Oh, my! Calling me mother, already? Well then, I guess it is settled. I shall adopt you, Frisk, and I will reveal to you my most important secret."

"I promise I won't tell anybody."

Chara folded their arms and turned away, frowning.

"I was the former queen," Toriel whispered. "I could not stand living in such excess at the tower while, all around me, the people were suffering. It may seem selfish, but I abandoned the king and my son so that I could live in meagre peace out here. I have kept my identity hidden since."

Internally, Frisk smiled.

No matter the world, some things still tended to remain the same.