Having been in the Core once before, although only getting as far as the first few enemies, Frisk was expecting the overwhelming heat and hum of machinery that hit her upon entry. It was emanating from far below the floor, the source impossible to see just yet. Although she was anticipating it, she still had to grit her teeth and take a moment after stepping inside. She could feel Flowey withering on her back, also finding the heat unpleasant and no doubt wishing that he could return to the cool dirt.
In some ways, the Core was like Hotland itself in how unbearable it was; even the interior was that same eyesore red- although was a little bit darker, like blood. But the heat and coloration, at the moment, was where the similarities stopped. Instead of crags, rocks, and crack lines all along the surface, the floor was smooth painted metal and lined with some kind of circuitry, much like the walls... little glass tubes of some glowing material were occasionally fixed there like chemistry test tubes. With all of the machinery, the sharp threatening symbols above each doorway, and the neon colored lights, it was unlike any other environment she'd walked through.
And it was difficult. Not only was it swarming with monsters, all of them working for Metatton, but it was a maze that constantly rearranged itself. That was what Sans told her, and it showed by how easy it was for her to get lost. Puzzles and lasers slowed her progression wherever she went. The first time she went there, she had gotten sick of it within the first half hour, with Alphys taunting her in texts over the phone on every other step. Coupled with her fear of facing Mettaton again, it was just too much and she left that place for a "break".
Perhaps this time around it would be different, though. Flowey wasn't with her during that first excursion, after all, and now this time Alphys hadn't made a peep.
Even Flowey noticed that something was off. He only said something after they had gone a little ways, past a glass-floor walkway with a black abyss below it. Some parts of the wall were chipped off in large chunks, exposing a thick gold metal tubing, and Frisk examined it with mild curiosity; it was too hot to touch. The flower poked his head out of the neck of her sweater while she kissed her fingers, tilting back and forth. "It's pretty quiet in here today, isn't it?"
Quiet wasn't the word that she would use, if only because of the sounds in her head and the sounds of the machines. "Don't get comfortable," she muttered as she stood, sniffing ozone. "Eventually we'll run into the monsters that I haven't scared off."
"I guess," was all Flowey said, and he ducked back out of sight. Frisk wondered if he was making her look like she had a hunchback when he was curled up in there.
She had quit when passing very very carefully through a conveyor belt of lasers the last time, which hadn't been that far in. She was expecting a text from Alphys at any moment, laughing about how there would be no way for her to get through all of the blue and orange attacks (there was a way, she definitely wasn't scared of Alphys, but it was just too time-consuming.) But when Frisk stepped into the room, she found a surprise waiting for her instead: none of the lasers were on.
"... Huh?"
"What?" Flowey rose up, not seeing what was wrong. "Why did you stop?"
"There's supposed to be a trap here."
"Oh. Huh?" The flower tilted into her vision. "Well I don't see it. You should hurry before it comes back on."
He had a point. It could be a temporary power outage for all she knew. "Right!" So Frisk kept running again, eyeing the little orbs lining the walls that fired each laser with anticipation. Ultimately, none of them turned on and for the first time she went into the next room.
What hit her next was that the heat got even worse. The child began to sweat, and she fumbled for a water bottle that Sans gave her right before she left, her throat becoming parched instantly. "Oh my god, it's hot as balls in here!" She ended up exclaiming, and she heard Flowey give a little whine. She let him take a sip from the water bottle too, although it was difficult when his face was so flat. "Holy fucking hell."
"M-m-maybe this is what hell feels like," whispered Flowey.
The heat was coming from a searing white light from beneath their feet, the child standing on a metal walkway that branched out ahead onto different walkways, and into different rooms. She suddenly got the feeling that she was standing near the center of the Core. The core of the Core. Frisk walked forward into a little hall that branched into the different walkways, where the walls afforded them a little bit of protection from the white light's heat. Some of the exposed tubing from this room was chipped away, revealing a third layer of electrical wiring. Frisk shook her head; nobody took very good care of this place, did they?
Flowey looked at their options, left and right and forward. "Wh-where do we go from here?"
Frisk groaned as she read electronic signs posted for either direction. This looked like another puzzle in this rearranging maze of a building. "We'll figure it out..."
No matter the direction, the two of them walked out over the painfully white heat, already anxious of what came next.
It wasn't just the lasers across the conveyor belt that were shut off, though. They quickly realized that it was everything. Every puzzle, every trap, even ones where it was obvious there was supposed to be something there, they were all deactivated.
Nothing impeded them, nothing stopped Frisk from digging through the trash in one room and finding a whole Deathburger somebody had thrown away, nothing moved or changed to make them lost while they explored those walkways. No traps. There was a big black panel in one room that Frisk suspected was the site of a shooting game puzzle, like the ones she had completed in Hotland, but there is nothing on it now. She found the switch in one room and nothing happened when she clicked it.
There were no monsters to attack them, either.
The child and her flower friend strolled down a walkway bathed in the white light, the first one to have railings on both sides, and considered things. "I would've thought we'd be jumped by somebody by now," Frisk spoke while chugging water, her voice a whisper as if afraid somebody was listening.
"H-h-hey, Frisk..."
She could feel her friend's vines tightening around her waist and arms, the flower shivering while he spoke. Irritated and plucking at one tendril, she said, "Spit it out, Flowey."
"I-I just," he sputtered, loosening his grip on her. "C-can't help but feel that something's- off, about all this. Th-that something's... broken."
"Broken?"
There was a wall where they came to a stop, occupied by an open doorway and an elevator. The floor in front of them was occupied by a little miracle, she could feel it faintly. Frisk checked the elevator first, as Flowey continued, "W-well, we- when we left this world- even if it was for a little while- d-do you think that it might have broken something in it? And now maybe things aren't...t-the way that they should be?"
"I don't think anything's broken, Flowey," the child insisted, although she couldn't help feeling a little anxious. Even if the world wasn't broken, the elevator sure was. "Worlds don't break."
"M-maybe..."
She turned her head as much as she could to scowl at him. "They don't. I call bullshit!"
He chuckled weakly. "O-okay."
He was a worrywart as always, but suddenly Frisk was convinced that this was being caused by something more. She could hear faint noises beyond that doorway, although they were being drowned out by the machinery. First, she wanted to attend to the little miracle. "I will admit, I'm not as certain what we're going to do now, though."
"... Y-you mean because Asgore isn't here anymore?"
Putting in like that made it sound like he was already dead. But if he was, then Frisk would be in even worse trouble. Right after getting back from that kinder other world (which she decided to call the Blue World,) some of the terrified and confused monsters in Snowdin confirmed what Undyne told them before; King Asgore was missing. The Sans she met when he was dragged to her world- the lazier one with a blue eye instead of red- had beaten him near to a pulp and, according to the monsters, "sent him away" somehow.
She wanted to ask Blue Sans where he sent the King, but it seemed that he didn't know either. "just away from me," was all he'd said in explanation.
In any case, if the king wasn't at his castle, was there even a point to going there? Her own Sans seemed to think so. Making it there would at least prove something to the other monsters. But it wouldn't help her go home. She needed Asgore to go home.
Just thinking about that, and what it entailed, made her shudder. So to Flowey, Frisk only said, "Be quiet. I need to do something."
He went silent while she knelt, clasping her hands together, and summoned her courage.
And with a flash a snapshot of this world lodged in her heart.
You smell ozone and blood in the air.
You're filled with uncertainty.
Your game has been SAVED.
Frisk stood up. "I can't think of anywhere better he'd be than licking his wounds in his own house. Can you?"
"I s-suppose," Flowey whimpered, hiding again when Frisk strode quickly through the doorway. They had more urgent things to worry about than something as simple as where the demonic and terrifying king of the monsters was hiding.
The walkway that they stepped out onto was dark, and not colored by neon lights or white heat like the rest. In fact, compared to the rest of the Work, it was actually pretty cool in this new room. The two of them breathed a collective sigh of relief while they walked, at least until the cellphone that Frisk carried in her pocket beeped loudly and suddenly, startling her. After sharing a look with Flowey, she tentatively checked to see who would be sending her a message at a time like this.
Alphys sent you a text!: ._. Did you... srsly make it all the way there already -.-
Alphys sent you another text!: I worked so hard on those traps .-.
They only took another step before the sharp beep came again.
Alphys sent you another text!: WHAT WTF WHY ARE THEY ALL OFF? WTF
Frisk shut off her phone. "Jesus."
"You k-keep saying that, b-but, uh, what is Jesus?"
"Oh just shut up," Frisk snapped, and kept going.
From the walkway they stepped onto a large black arena, one that was swathed in shadows and had another walkway leading into blackness on the other side. Although Frisk had never gotten this far, she had a sudden foreboding feeling as soon as she got into it, the echoes of her shoes on the floor sounding loud in her ears. Very quietly, Flowey whimpered and retreated into her sweater again, which was another bad omen. Before the child had gone into the center of the arena, thought that she could make out a tall shape, one that was obscured as a silhouette but resembled a box...
A box with arms.
"Shit!" Frisk screeched, turning to run back the way that she had come-only to find that a huge gate had closed back and blocked her path to the walkway. She was trapped in the arena.
Bright lights flickered on above them all, and the child shielded her eyes as she looked back at Mettaton-for she could mistake that robot for no one else, a glorified gigantic calculator with four deadly-looking arms and a wheel for feet. His lights were all flashing red, and he held two microphones in hand. Frisk pressed back to the edge of the gate while he spoke into them with that booming deep voice. "LLLLAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
Frisk had a flashback of almost being baked into a cake and bile rose in her mouth. Her body trembled before she had time to think to herself that she wasn't afraid of anything Mettaton had to offer, to lie to herself.
From the bright illuminating lights, Frisk and Flowey saw their own reflections in camera screens; while they were being recorded, Mettaton was going on through the resounding microphone, "This is the moment that all of you have been waiting for for days, nay, weeks! From the moment this human fell down into our midst, you've watched their progress, matching wits with quizzes and baking recipes, narrowly avoiding death by explosion... and much more."
The floor under her feet quivered.
You equip the Burnt Pan.
The lights of Mettaton's front began to flash in a random sequence. "And now it's time for the thrilling conclusion to their story... the ultimate conclusion!"
"What are you doing?"
The robot moved one mic from one hand to the other. A little quieter, he asked, "Come again?"
Frisk swallowed, holding on to a fragile hope, as for once she tried to talk it out, "This... this show... King Asgore is missing, isn't he? So you don't need to kill me for him. Right? You don't nee-"
"Ohh, I'm very aware of that," chuckled the machine. "Everyone is talking about it. But you misunderstand what that means for you, honey." Frisk felt like she was going to be sick, and he tossed his microphones into opposite hands with a dramatic flourish; a juggler at heart. "With no king to demand it, that essentially means that your SOUL is up for grabs. Anybody can take it and use it.
"And who better than I?" Mettaton wheeled closer and Frisk slammed her burnt pan into the ground between them, the sudden loud sound making him stop and laugh in that crazed electronic voice. "Yes, you know. I can get out of this place. I can be the savior of my dear audience, and crush those fillllthy humans like you!"
Flowey's thorny vines were digging into Frisk's skin again as the flower trembled, but she barely felt them.
"I disabled the traps and called off the other monsters so that nothing would stand in your way... leading you right to me. Nobody else is going to take your heart but me." As the child exchanged a worried glance with her flower, he added, "Especially since, as I've learned recently, even killing you doesn't seem to do very much. Does it, sweetie?"
"It really doesn't-"
"But!" He cut off her choking words. "... But..."
And then everything began to change very suddenly, and all at once. The arena that they were standing on started to shake, cameras and all, until it shot high into the air at a speed that knocked Frisk on her butt, with the girl giving out a sharp yelp. The platform that they were standing on was rising, revealing itself as a big black tower that the three of them were all standing on. The child was terrified that at any moment the arena was going to smash into the ceiling and crush them, but as of yet it hadn't.
As it lifted up, up into the darkness, in front of her Mettaton transformed.
The middle casing around his mostly square body segmented into pieces and retracted. It exposed more glinting metal that was, when not chrome or more black, painted vibrant shades of red and gold- the metal was now protruding and unfolding with no box to get in its way. His four arms let the microphones fall as they shot to the ground and supported him during this transformation, and for a moment Frisk thought that he looked like a faceless dog before two long and sturdy legs unfolded and stamped on the ground. The little wheel folding into his body, Metatton stood at a fuller height and towered over his two opponents. He was beginning to look more human, more like the Metatron that she had seen just once in Alphys' lab. His midsection extended to reveal the heart in a cage, and his four-eyed face with shining black hair flipped into place on his head.
The transformation was complete. The only thing left of the original Mettaton was those four arms- and two of them had replaced the microphones he discarded with a big red gas-powered chainsaw.
The platform had lifted into a chamber that Frisk never saw before, and that she couldn't even guess was part of the Core (it was at least cooler.) It was huge concert hall, or at least that was the only word she could use to describe it, with cameras everywhere and bright spotlights blaring down on them. Rows of monsters were watching them and cheering from the audience seats, and all the blood drained out of Frisk's face.
With his sharp teeth Mettaton smiled at the child, who with a grim look in her eyes most certainly did not smile back.
Chainsaw in his hands revving, and with four red eyes flashing, the killer robot standing in front of her said, "For my fans, let's give this a go anyway. Shall we?"
Next Chapter: Scorch Marks