I proceeded through the Ruins on my own. The sound of my footsteps reverberated down the hallways – the only sound in that place. I was initially apprehensive of proceeding without Flowey. I went on telling myself that if I took a wrong turn, he would most likely appear to correct me. And yet I found I was able to find my way remarkably easily. For the most part it was a straightforward path through the connecting rooms. Whenever I came to a junction, I had a sense for the correct path to take.

So much for his claims about this place being a challenge to navigate, I thought. Part of me wondered if I could cover more distance if I went on by myself. If it's this easy to get back to the surface, I could probably make faster progress if I go on alone, I told myself. But I quickly decided against it. I had done a good job so far at predicting the right path, but Flowey was the one who knew the way. I also had no idea how much further we had to travel. For now at least, it would be best to play it safe and accept his help – if he decided to come back.

After a while, I arrived at a clearing. At the far end was some kind of building, a large stone plaque looming above the entrance. In the centre of the courtyard stood an old, ragged tree. All of the leaves had fallen off long ago, clustered in a big orange mass on the floor underneath its branches. A light dusting of leaves had blown away from the main pile, scattering themselves across the floor and along the windows of that peculiar building.

As I approached the entrance, I felt a wave of drowsiness wash over me. I'd forgotten how tired I was. I sat down amongst the leaves under the large withered tree – it was surprisingly comfortable. I leaned back against the trunk of the old tree. The setting was like an autumn evening – peaceful and deeply soothing. I breathed a quiet sigh as I slowly closed my eyes.

It wasn't long before I was greeted with another surprise. Without warning, Flowey sprung out of the ground by my side, kicking up a cloud of leaves. My heart jumped – I was so startled I almost leapt to my feet. He giggled mischievously. "You weren't expecting me to come back, were you?" he joked. He seemed to have put aside, or completely forgotten about, his earlier solemn mood.

"You definitely gave me a shock," I answered, admittedly disgruntled by the rude awakening. As I rubbed my eyes, I looked down at the orange leaves all around us, and then up at the blackened branches of the withered old tree. "I think you might have scared the poor tree more, though."

He laughed. "I always thought the same thing!" he agreed, looking up at the ragged branches. "I mean, just look at it! It looks so scared and stupid." He picked up some of the leaves around him and chucked them into the air playfully. "By the way, congrats on making it here by yourself!" he commented. "You figured this place out pretty quickly. You're a natural, I tell ya."

I started to relax again, easing back against the tree trunk. I was half-hoping Flowey might permit me a moment to rest. Of course, this wasn't to be. He drew a little closer to me, clearly in a talkative mood. "So, you're from the surface, right? Tell me what's going on up there," he went on. "I want to know how humans and monsters are getting on. I'll bet they're at each other's throats by now, right?" I was about to utter a reply but he interrupted me. "No, wait! Let me guess. I have a theory I've been working on." I decided to let him have the floor. I didn't have the energy to challenge him, in any case.

"Here's my theory," he began, spreading his leaves out wide as if he were presenting a case. "I'll bet the monsters went to war with humanity again, just like they always said they would. Only this time, they won. But they still want revenge – I wouldn't put it past them. So now it's the humans' turn to be trapped underground – once they've sealed off the mountain again with a new Barrier." He looked up at me. "And you're the first one they threw down here."

I looked back at him in stunned silence.

"So, am I right?" he continued, a sly grin creeping up onto his face. "Can I be expecting more company soon?"

"O-of course not!" I stammered. "How did you come to that con..."

He burst into laughter. "I'm only joking!" He tried to compose himself. "Did you really think I was being serious? Jeez, you've gotta lighten up a little!"

I slumped back against the tree trunk and breathed a mixed sigh of relief and tiredness. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"But, jokes aside, I am curious," he persisted. "Do they actually get on at all? I can't envision it."

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. "I... can't say for sure," I eventually forced out. "There haven't been any major conflicts that I know of. I think humanity is still coming to terms with living with another race of people." That was my gut feeling on the subject, informed by the research I had done but little else. "The thing is, I've never actually met a monster before. I can only speak from my own experience."

He reacted in surprise to this admission. "Really?" he asked. "You mean I'm the first monster you've ever met?"

I nodded. I felt that was the most honest response I could have given. When it came to the idea of humans and monsters living in harmony together, I didn't have the full picture in front of me - far from it. And while Flowey's 'theory' was obviously ridiculous, my first-hand experience didn't paint an optimistic picture of the situation either.

He nodded slowly, pondering something to himself. "Ok then. Tell me a bit about yourself," he said after a while. "How'd you end up falling down the mountain?"

I had not been expecting to speak to anyone about this – let alone a talking flower. But I strongly suspected this wasn't a subject Flowey would be willing to drop. However, I knew that if I had to describe my situation and the decisions that brought me here, I would have to start from the beginning.

I told him about the place where I grew up... about home. That sleepy little village situated far away from anywhere, practically isolated from the rest of the world. I described the thatched houses and the church spire that was just visible from our home. The golden flowers that grew in the rural pastures and the village square. To the outside eye, it would seem to be a perfectly peaceful, idyllic place. I noticed Flowey drawing closer – he seemed to be listening with interest.

But underneath this exterior, there lay a culture of fear and resentment. The townspeople harboured a vehement hatred of monsters. This hatred manifested itself in every aspect of life in that place. It was almost like a disease, festering away at the populace and twisting many of them into backward, fear-crazed sociopaths.

I don't think it was always this way. It all stemmed from a single event that, as children, we were never privy to. I was too young at the time to remember it myself. The townspeople would speak in hushed tones about something terrible that had befallen the village in the past – an incident that had left an irreparable scar in the minds of those who claim to have witnessed it. It had allegedly involved a monster that had escaped from the Underground and suddenly appeared in the village square. It was a taboo subject, especially for the children. Non-adults were forbidden from mentioning it and were swiftly rebuked if caught. When we asked why they wouldn't tell us, they simply insisted that they were trying to protect us. I'm certain it was this event that had caused the once peaceful, outward-facing place I called home to turn in on itself.

I went on to describe what it was like growing up. How we were taught, as children, that monsters were our enemies, and that we should kill any monster that dares come near the village. 'Vicious, dangerous creatures that couldn't be trusted' – those were their words. We grew up in an atmosphere of terror, led to believe that these creatures were lurking in the shadows, waiting to get us. Some kids would even carry concealed weapons, in case they encountered a monster while they were out playing.

He gave an incredulous smirk at this, saying that he couldn't imagine me killing a fly, let alone a monster. Perhaps he's right about that. I was never able to fit in there. I was generally seen as a frail child, overly sensitive and unable to cope with fear. I was frequently bullied by the other children who saw me as a weakling. Their constant aggression made me hate that place even more.

The arrival of monsters on the surface led to the townsfolk tempering their hatred – but only slightly. We went on living in isolation – as we even began to shut ourselves off from contact with human civilisation. No monster colony has ever attempted to settle anywhere near us. To this day, there remains a bitter animosity towards monsters that has never gone away.

As much as I despised living there, I'd never left that place. The village was so insular and controlling. We were told that we would only be able to leave the village properly once we reached adulthood. I suppose the idea was that, by that point, we would be so indoctrinated that we'd no longer want to leave.

But I'd always wanted to travel and learn more about the outside world. Climbing Mt. Ebott had been my first glimpse at the world outside of the confines of the village. And though it's true that I'd never actually met a monster before, I've always held a strong interest in monster-kind. I would collect newspaper clippings, articles, anything I could find from the outside world concerning the monsters who lived on the surface.

I'd longed planned to run away and explore the world myself. But I was apprehensive of what I knew little about, and the consequences that could arise if I was ever found and sent back home. And so I put it off – again and again.

Then, one day, something happened. Something horrible. And I knew I couldn't stay. At the time, as we were sat under that tree, I was convinced I couldn't tell anyone about it – not even Flowey. I was worried my vagueness on the matter would disappoint him. But to my surprise, and relief, he didn't press me on this when I mentioned it. He just nodded slowly in an almost introspective manner.

"And so I made my decision to leave for Mt. Ebott", I continued. I'd left early the next morning, before anyone had woken up. I packed up as much of my father's old hiking equipment as I could carry and set out. The rain was hammering down but it provided me with good cover to make my escape. It took a full day to travel to Ebott and climb to the peak. I was completely exhausted when I reached the top. I spent the evening up there under a sprawling, starlit sky. I'll never forget that moment – what I felt as I gave myself up to that infinite darkness. And then, just like that, I was falling. It just happened.

Flowey reacted in puzzlement. "Why the mountain though?" he pondered out loud. "Seems like an odd choice."

There were a couple of reasons behind my decision to make the daunting climb "The adults had always described Mt. Ebott as a cursed place – that those who climbed to the top would disappear and never come back," I explained to him. "I wanted to rebel against their legends, to prove them wrong. But it was more than a bit scary for me."

"Maybe they were right about the curse," Flowey observed, giving a small smile. "You did fall in, after all."

"I don't consider that such a bad thing anymore," I remarked.

Flowey laughed like a hyena at that. "You're amazing!" he exclaimed. "You're really taking this in your stride, aren't ya?" He took a moment to compose himself. "But I have to wonder: was that your only reason?"

I shook my head. "I wanted to be alone, or at least out of human company. I needed to go somewhere I knew would be devoid of people." I paused before continuing. "Honestly, I think I wouldn't mind it if I never saw another human again."

Flowey looked at me in disbelief. "You can't be serious," he gasped.

"I've seen just how evil some of us can be. How willing they can be to scare themselves and their own children, just so they can fulfil their desire to hate something – anything," I said. "I refuse to be a part of that."

Flowey still looked puzzled. "But you still want to go back to the surface, right?" he asked. There was something peculiar about how he'd asked this question – a quality to his voice that I couldn't place.

But he was right. I couldn't deny the impulse I felt to go back, even if I couldn't explain it. "I'll never go back home, but I feel I can't stay away from the surface for good," I told him. "I… can't describe it. It's just a feeling I have. That I should be there."

When I get back to the surface, I decided to myself then and there, I would find a place where monsters lived – perhaps near a city, wherever they may be – and live with them. That, or I would travel the world alone. "All I know is that I can't go back home," I insisted to Flowey. "There's nothing for me there. Nothing I can go back to."

"Well, what about family?" he asked. "You got any parents?"

"Just my Mom now," I replied after some hesitation.

I saw a touch of concern in Flowey's eyes. "She must be wondering what happened to ya."

I shook my head. "I... left her a note... before I headed out."

We were both silent for a while. The only sound in the courtyard was a faint rustling of leaves. Eventually Flowey piped up.

"Well, how about that! You're a real loner too!" he declared with a grin. "Welcome to the club."

I smiled at this. "Don't worry. For now, I think we'll be able to keep the membership low."

"Fate's a funny thing, isn't it?" he suddenly broke off, seemingly out of nowhere. "If things had happened differently, we may have never met one another!"

I started to think to myself: was this really an act of fate? I rolled this question through my mind. Somehow I had escaped from what seemed like certain death. If I had been spared death, was there a reason why I was here? A purpose for me to fulfil? Just thinking about it was making my head spin.

Flowey gave me a sidelong glance. "You look kinda tired," he said. "We should stop for a while." He gestured to the building behind us. "You should rest up in there. There's food, shelter - everything a human could need!" He looked up at me. "We've reached the very end of the Ruins now. We can move on when you're ready."

Dragging myself up wearily from the pile of leaves, I approached the front door of the stone building. It now occurred to me that this was a house of some sort. I turned back, expecting Flowey to follow me in. "You go ahead!" he insisted. "I prefer it out here, honestly. Make yourself at home!"

I went inside on my own, leaving Flowey to mill around by himself outside. After the events of today, I was eagerly looking forward to getting some rest.