Chapter 1: Leaves Mulch to be Desired

When Grandt awoke again, he was greatly relieved to find that it was in his bed, tucked safely away beneath the covers, with no flowers or monsters in sight. It must have all been a nightmare, he decided. Some phantom dream. He'd forget about it soon enough, and then he could move on with his life.

And yet as Grandt sat up, he noticed how dry his mouth felt. Had he not had anything to drink lately? No, that wasn't it. The pain in his chest and back still persisted. Then again, that was normal; while some may not have called Grandt old at sixty one, he had not aged gracefully, and it reflected in every bone and muscle and tendon in his body. It was not uncommon for him to awake in pain, especially if he had been moving much in his sleep.

Then he noticed a larger and more prominent inconsistency: his bed was much shorter than before. His feet all but hung off the end beneath the (admittedly comfortable) covers. But that made no sense. He hadn't changed his bed throughout his stay in Ebott, after all. At least, not as far as he recalled.

Grandt let out a quiet groan out of irritation and tiredness. There was no point simply staying in bed and waiting to discover what had occurred. If he was genuinely curious, then it only made sense for him to take action.

He swung his legs around the side of the bed and set his feet on the floor. Rather than the wooden floor he was used to, his feet touched against what felt like either a rug or carpeting. Grandt reached out with his right hand in search of a light source, but he found there was no such thing nearby. His eyes were adjusted well enough, though. He could make out a vaguely lamp-shaped object on the other side of the room.

Slowly, with legs still shaking, Grandt stood up, using a nearby dresser for support. It seemed to be a rug instead of a carpet, given that he could feel a small bit of wood beneath his right foot, but he put such thoughts out of his mind for now. Instead, he simply walked forward, stepping slowly and carefully across the unfamiliar floor.

He reached out for the (probable) lamp, searching the stand for its switch. Grandt then found it and clicked it on. The room was suddenly bathed in light, blinding him for a moment. Then his vision cleared, and Grandt could see the room more clearly.

It was a decently sized room, with – as he had suspected – wooden floor and a large rug in its center. Curiously enough, it was almost completely empty, with all the furniture in a straight row on the wall opposite the door. There was the lamp on its table, of course, along with a tall dresser, a box filled with small shoes, a picture of a flower, the bed, and… was that another lamp? The first was already incredibly, ridiculously bright. Who needed that much light?

As he stared at it, Grandt found his eyes drawn down to a pair of stuffed animals beside the bed, as well as a box filled with toys at the bed's foot. It seemed to be a child's room, or perhaps simply a room that had once housed a child (multiple children, given the large variety of shoe sizes). Either way, it wasn't Grandt's room, and that fact disturbed him more than anything else.

Awakening in an unknown place was never a good sign. Awakening in an unknown place without knowing how you got there? That was even worse.

He leaned against the nearby wall, struggling to stand. His legs were shaking again, but now it was from fear more than from pain.

Slowly, as if by instinct, Grandt looked down at himself and found that even his clothes had been changed in his sleep. Gone were his hiking clothes, and in their place was a suit of slightly too-large pajamas, decorated with what looked like little cartoon snails.

His fingers shook as he grabbed at the material. What was going on? Where was he, and more importantly, what had happened to him? This wasn't right. It simply wasn't–

Too fast.

Grandt took a deep breath to slow his heartbeat. He couldn't break down. Not again. His body simply couldn't stand it, and he knew that a single shock could send him straight to an early grave.

No, now was the time to think rationally. Had something recently happened that would have left him in such a position? His head felt fine, so that ruled out alcohol, and he couldn't recall anything beyond the previous night. Unless, of course…

No. No. That couldn't have actually happened. Surely he hadn't fallen down the mountain. The creatures from his dream – what were they, a flower and a goat? – wouldn't have left him be. Not like that. Not if they wanted his SOUL. More importantly, the monsters beneath Mt. Ebott would never have granted him shelter or clothing. No, it was simply absurd.

But at the same time, he couldn't deny how realistic that dream had felt – nor could he deny that he had, in fact, wanted to climb Mt. Ebott. Its details were too memorable for him to pretend that it hadn't at least been incredibly lucid. He remembered writing his granddaughter that note. He remembered packing his rucksack. He remembered climbing the side of the mountain. He remembered the rain, the strange figure with the gun, and then…

And then…

"I fell…"

The words felt heavy. Leaden. They rang loudly in his head, like bells. He had fallen. He'd fallen deep into the darkness, and that beastly flower had nearly killed him. Something had stopped it, though, and then a voice had spoken. It had spoken to him. Then that Boss Monster had emerged from the darkness, and he'd charged it.

His memories stopped there, but given that he was still alive – not to mention apparently healthy and clothed –, someone must have given him help. It was well-known that the monsters in the Underground were supposed to be kind, but Grandt still doubted that they'd willingly help a human less than a hundred years after the war. It made no sense, especially if they were trying to free themselves.

What about a human, though? Maybe one of those children who'd climbed the mountain had survived for long enough that they could give him a hand. Yes, that made sense.

But then if that was the case, why did that theory sound so wrong? Grandt knew that of the five who had vanished atop Mt. Ebott, all of them were teenagers at the oldest (he distinctly recalled that the eldest had been seventeen, while the youngest was a mere ten). It had been a long time, but even so, most of them would still be children.

It only stood to reason that one of them had saved him. But if that was the case, why was the room so childish? A box of toys, a box of shoes… Why, even the dresser was filled with dusty clothing that was too small for a man of his height. And if his savior had been one of the fallen humans, didn't it make sense that their home wouldn't be so nice? They had only been gone for a few years, after all. He doubted the monsters were so kind that they'd let a human run free and build a house of their own. It'd make more sense to just rip out the human's SOUL then and there.

Grandt ran a hand over his head, confused beyond words. None of this made sense. The facts contradicted one another, creating a mess of ideas that simply didn't mesh. It was a stew of mismatched foods, a pot roast without the meat. As long as he lacked the essential information, Grandt couldn't be sure where he was or why he was there.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Grandt ceased all movement. He reached for the light to shut it off, eyes now locked on the entrance, but he couldn't seem to find the switch again. His breath had quickened. It took all his effort to keep his heartbeat down to a reasonable rate. His fingers played over the lamp, ultimately doing little more than pushing it slightly to the side in his panic.

The doorknob turned and clicked, and something pushed the door inward. A figure stepped through.

It was the Boss Monster.

It was tall and goat-like, dressed in a purple robe that was covered in symbols. Its very being exuded power and regality.

Any of Grandt's attempts to keep calm instantly failed, replaced by a cold and sudden rush of fear. His breath caught in his throat.

The Boss Monster looked at him for a long moment, its eyes indicating surprise. And then it… smiled? "Oh, you woke up!" it – she? The voice was distinctly feminine, and its dress and overall appearance matched that idea as well – said. "And it seems that you have made a full recovery, as well. I am glad to know that you are alright."

Grandt blinked. "I…" he managed. "What…?"

The Boss Monster stared at him for a long moment before realization dawned on her. "Ah, I am very sorry!" she said. "You must be very confused right now. My name is Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins." After a moment's pause, she added, "I spend my days wandering the Ruins, looking to find humans who may have fallen down."

"Did you… Did you save me?" Grandt asked, struggling to comprehend what was going on. He pulled himself away from the room's corner and moved slightly closer towards her. Not too close, though.

"Yes," she answered. "By the time I found you, the shock of your fall must have triggered some sort of heart failure. I did all that I could to stabilize you."

"'Stabilize'? Then you… They have defibrillators down here?"

Toriel raised an eyebrow. "'Defibrillators'? I… cannot say that I have ever heard of such things before."

"What?" Grandt asked. "Then how did you–?" He paused and placed a hand over his beard. "Ah, I see. Magic."

"Yes, that is right," Toriel said. "I used a few very minor lightning spells to make your heart beat again." Then she glanced around a bit nervously. "But I do not think this is a very good place to talk about these things. It is a bit too… cramped. Here, if you will follow me, I will tell you everything that happened."

Grandt took a moment to answer. He was hesitating, mostly out of fear. It was hard to just accept the words of someone he'd only just met – someone who could secretly be truly evil beneath that compassionate face –, and yet…

He stepped forward a bit, still rubbing his mustache and beard. "Alright," he said. "Then please, by all means, lead the way."

"You are not frightened?"

He continued walking forward until he was directly in front of her. Toriel stood a little more than half a head taller than him, but that kind, motherly look in her eyes kept her from being too intimidating. It almost completely dampened the fact that she looked incredibly powerful. Were it not for that, he wouldn't have bothered to go near her.

But as it stood, she simply seemed to radiate sincerity. It was like her SOUL was made from pure, concentrated compassion. She'd saved his life with nothing to gain in return. What reason could Grandt have not to trust her? If she had truly wanted him dead, there was no way he'd be alive right now.

"I am," he admitted. "I'm always frightened." Frightened that his heart would burn out at any time, frightened that his granddaughter would be left alone, frightened that the man who'd stolen everything from him would return. "But no matter what happens, I can't stay still. I just can't."

Toriel frowned down at him for a moment, though not unkindly. "I understand," she said. "Very well, then. Follow me. Oh, but do not strain yourself! You are still recovering, after all."

As they were walking out of the room, though, she suddenly turned around. "Ah, that reminds me. I am sorry that I did not ask you this before, but… what is your name?"

There was another pause.

Then Grandt smiled. "My name is Grandt Journa," he said, extending his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Toriel."

Toriel accepted his hand, smiling back. "And you, too. Now tell me," Toriel added as they exited the bedroom, "you do not dislike snail pie, do you, Grandt?"


AN: Because I did not take the time to point this out in the prologue, this story obviously will spoil the plot of Undertale. I'm presuming that everyone reading it has at least played the game for themselves, but if not, I recommend staying away from this story.

In addition, as I said last time, I will be taking many, many liberties with canon throughout this story. Of course, the fact that it takes place several years before the actual game (the exact amount of years is a spoiler), some events will be a bit different than you all may be used to. However, the core plot will be at least similar, so don't expect me to go too far off the rails just yet.

Edit: As of October 25, 2016, this chapter has been edited. I have no idea how I let this pass the first time around. It was incredibly messy, and a lot of lines either had to be cut or completely rewritten. Namely, many of Toriel's lines needed to be cleaned up, and most of the descriptions needed to be toned down to sound less pretentious. I also made a few lines of dialogue more specific - namely, Toriel didn't mention her use of lightning magic to make Grandt's heart go back to normal in the original chapter -, which should hopefully make this chapter a bit easier to read.