I found an old sci-fi novel on sentry duty in the ruins one day—guess it washed down from the human world.

It was a decent enough story. Guy gets caught in a time loop, fights aliens, the whole bit.

There's a scene where the main character is having dinner. He's tired of repeating the same day's meal over and over again. So, he decides to mix it up a little bit. He puts mayonnaise, soy sauce, salt, horseradish—all kinds of things that shouldn't go together on his food. Not to make it better. To make it different.

I think of this as they look over the menu at Grillby's. Their eyes scrunch up a bit as they scan over the options. In the end, it doesn't matter with them. They always order a burger or fries. Act like there's only two options on the menu or something.

"Hmm…I'd like a burger."

"hey, that sounds pretty good. grillby, we'll have a double order of burg."

I know the menu in and out, so I spare him my usual. My usual changes every couple times through. It started with the best burger the place serves: Grillby's Hotland Burst, a sauna of ghost pepper sauce and deep-fried jalapenos over spiced beef and pepper jack cheese. I liked to end a hard day's work with one of 'em before all this started.

After a few times through, I couldn't stand the taste of it anymore. It lost the kick it used to have. And so, I changed it up. I worked my way down through the menu's offerings until I reached the abyss: the Charburger. Claiming to be "for those who can't get enough of that flame-grilled flavor," it's…it's a pile of ashes. A pile of ashes that doesn't taste like the Hotland Burst.

…I don't know how their confrontation with my brother went. I wasn't there.

Let me put it this way: money doesn't matter to me. Not right now. I don't care how much my pay gets docked for every time I cut work to watch this kid. I'd say keeping them on the right track is just a little more important than paying my tab.

But keeping my job does. If nothing else, it makes for a pretty handy way to keep tabs on things. As long as I show up about half the time, Undyne'll at least let me stay on the job.

Because of that, I couldn't cut work this time. Believe me, I tried one time through. I got canned. It got harder to keep an eye socket on 'em. And they…

I need to find out what happened to bro.

"so, what do you think…of my brother?"

They swallow, and speak.

"Mm…he's pretty cool, I guess."

He's. He IS pretty cool. Not "He WAS pretty cool" or "I stabbed him through the non-heart with a butter knife." Then he's probably still alive.

It'll seem weird if I ask this out of the blue, so I play it off.

"of course he's cool. you'd be cool too if you wore that outfit every day. he'd only take that thing off if he had to."

I leave them to internally cringe and bite into my burger. It doesn't taste like a pile of ashes, but it's still too much like a burger for comfort.

After that, we talk a little more about my brother. Undyne's kindness to my brother. I know he isn't Royal Guard material. You don't have to tell me. But he is dedicated, and she was willing to do something with that. Maybe if they see her heart, well…

Maybe they'll get through this next trial.

I'm still not sure how much they remember. Obviously they're aware of it, this cycle. They're the cause of it. But sometimes it's like they've forgotten everything they've learned. They blunder blindly into attacks. They ask for simple instructions over and over.

I decide to test the waters.

"oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something…have you ever heard of a talking flower?"

"Hm? Yeah…"

"so you know all about it…the echo flower."

They know what I mean. I'm almost sure of it. But the Echo Flower it is.

"they're all over the marsh. say something to them, and they'll repeat it over and over…"

They seem disappointed.

"Yeah, but I thought you m…nevermind. What about it?"

Good. Here's the important part: the part they have to remember.

"well, papyrus told me something interesting the other day. sometimes, when no one else is around…a flower appears and whispers things to him. flattery…advice…encouragement…"

"…Predictions."

I look at them. They've looked up from their plate, eyes looking directly into where mine should be.

Something different has happened. Something I hadn't thought of.

"That's what you were going to say, wasn't it? Predictions."

I reach out, ruffling their hair.

0, 1…

"yeah, that's exactly it. predictions."

Notes:

What?! An actual chapter two?! (Galves Town is…is…you know, I haven't watched Hetalia in forever…)

If you guessed it, congrats, the sci-fi novel is All You Need is Kill. I always figured that this is why the fluffy bunny thing in Grillby's mentions that Sans always orders the worst burger on the menu, despite his knowledge of the pub's better offerings. Or, y'know, he's just quirky like that.

In coming up with the Hotland Burst, I did an internet search for "stupid spicy burger." This is a WELL-RESEARCHED FIC, my child.