Grandt stared down at the word jumble in abject disbelief. This was supposed to be a puzzle? He'd spent ten minutes figuring out how to roll a snowball (really just a strange, multisided prism that almost resembled a snowball) down a course and into a hole. It was like playing golf, except the "ball" was constantly melting and cold, there were no golf clubs, and it was actually nothing like golf in the slightest. For all his complaining, though, it had been rewarding to see the flag come up at the end. The sense of satisfaction at completing a difficult puzzle had been worth it, even though he was quietly more thankful for the two small coins that popped out of the hole when the flag emerged.
But this "puzzle" – he could hardly even call it that without mentally inserting quotation marks – irked him to no end. Not because it was a simple word search when there was seemingly no penalty for failure or reward for success. Not because most of the words were childishly easy except for one, very obnoxious exception. Not even because the puzzle was literally impossible to solve.
No, what bothered him was Papyrus standing right across from him, a large grin on his face and an excited look in his eyes. When Grandt had arrived looking to make sure Papyrus was alright – after, of course, frantically trying to solve the snowprism golf game again and again –, he'd been pleasantly surprised to find that Papyrus was seemingly no worse for wear. Apparently, ten minutes of not being electrocuted was enough time for most monsters to recuperate their energy.
But while Papyrus wasn't injured, he was incredibly frustrated by the simple puzzle on the ground. He claimed, "What sort of puzzle doesn't have a solution?" Then he requested that Grandt solve it to "prove his puzzle-solving skills."
And that's how Grandt found himself crouched over a word search in the middle of a snowy mountain, growing increasingly frustrated as he realized that Papyrus wasn't kidding about it not having a solution. Most of the words had a simple solution, even if he quietly questioned the point of including both "cigars" and "cigs" as options, but one random string of letters had no such answer.
He glared up at Papyrus. "What the hell is a 'giasfclfebrehber'?!"
Grandt had no idea if he pronounced it correctly. At the moment, he hardly cared.
"Bah, it's probably foreign," Papyrus answered. "You'll have to ask Sans about that, though. He's the one who made this puzzle. It explains why it's so bad, doesn't it?"
Grandt let out a long, slow sigh as he looked back down at the word search. There wasn't a pencil or pen to mark it, one of the solutions was actually impossible, and the rest of it just screamed of laziness. He should've known.
Without missing a beat, Grandt reached down, picked up the soggy piece of paper, and stood up to his full height. He crumpled it up into a ball and unceremoniously threw it off the side of the mountain. Then he turned back to Papyrus, his face neutral.
"There. I solved it."
Papyrus stared at him for a moment. "Well, I'll admit it's a bit unorthodox… but sure, I'll allow it."
"Great," Grandt muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "So what's next? A crossword puzzle, or–?"
"Grandt!"
He turned around to see Toriel walking in from behind him, a relieved look on her face. She was holding a cellphone – the same model as his, Grandt thought idly – that she delicately placed in her pocket shortly after he saw her.
Toriel smiled a bit sheepishly. "I was going to call to make sure you were alright. Sans told me he didn't think you had gone far, but… Well, it never hurts to be cautious, right?"
Grandt chuckled. "No, I guess not." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Hmm… I'm guessing your number's already on here. Ah, there it is." He looked up. "But who's this second one? Sans?"
"Yep."
Grandt turned around again to the sight of Sans nonchalantly standing next to Papyrus. When had he…?
Sans winked and said, "I figured I could call ya every now and then. You like puns, right?"
Grandt looked down at his phone, then back up at Sans's grinning face with a grave expression. "I swear to God, Sans, if you call me every ten minutes just to tell me your latest joke, I'll make you regret it."
"Really."
"Why, yes." Grandt smirked. "You forget that I was a father once. I've an arsenal of terrible jokes large enough to make even the world's most powerful militaries beg for mercy – and believe me, Sans, I'm not afraid to point them all at you."
Sans chuckled. "Sounds like fun. So what happened to the puzzle?"
"The human got angry and threw it off a cliff," Papyrus said.
"Thanks for nothing, Papyrus."
"You're welcome!"
Toriel glanced up. "Oh, so that's your brother, Sans?" She stepped passed Grandt to join the other two monsters. "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Papyrus."
"Same here!" Papyrus said. He leaned in close to Sans and whispered very loudly, "Sans! When did Asgore get here? And when did he shave?"
Grandt blinked. Who was Asgore, and why did he apparently look like an unshaven Toriel? The entire situation was very strange. Sans had appeared from nowhere beside Papyrus – though Grandt had to admit that, since he had not seen Sans arrive, it was technically possible that he simply snuck around him. Unlikely, of course, but possible –, and now Papyrus was claiming Toriel to be someone else entirely?
No, that's probably just Papyrus being Papyrus, Grandt thought to himself, looking over the three of them as they spoke. But who's Asgore?
He shook his head and forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. If he had questions, he could ask them; it wasn't like the monsters were withholding information, at least as far as he knew.
"You and Asgore are acquainted?" Toriel asked curiously.
"Well of course! You know everybody, Asgore! Though I'm not sure why you're speaking in third person." Papyrus placed a hand on his chin. "Now if a clone of you knew me, that would be an accomplishment. Like getting the water to boil without magic. Or waking Sans from a nap."
"I work the most at working the least," Sans added with a chuckle.
Grandt breathed in deep. "Who's Asgore?" he finally asked, and the three monsters turned to look at him.
Toriel crossed her arms and shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Asgore is–"
"He's the king of the Underground," Sans interrupted, prompting a relieved look on Toriel's face. "He runs this place, basically."
"I see…" Grandt murmured, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "I wasn't aware there was a single ruler down here. Would he stand in the way of my escape attempt?"
Toriel shifted again. "He–"
"What if he does?" Sans prompted calmly.
"Then I'd try to reason with him. Try to see if I could…" Grandt trailed off. "I'd do whatever I could."
"And if it turned violent?"
"I'd incapacitate him somehow." Grandt ran a hand over his head. "Emotionally, mentally – if I had to, I'd get physical, but I'd rather not. It's been a long time since I've fought anyone." He chuckled. "A very long time."
"You've fought in the past?"
"Yes. I have."
"Did you ever kill anyone?"
"Sans!" Papyrus and Toriel shouted in unison.
"No, I don't mind," Grandt said, looking at the two of them a bit apologetically. He turned his gaze back to Sans and shrugged. "There's no point in pretending. Besides, what's there to hide? Everybody who serves winds up on the battlefield eventually."
Sans stared at him for a moment before realization showed in his eyes. "Oh. That actually explains everything."
Grandt stared at him curiously. "Wait, what? What does that explain?"
"Sans thought you were a crazy murderer," Toriel offered helpfully.
"Wait, what?!"
"Nah, that's not it," Sans said, stepping forward a bit. "I can read SOULs a bit. Yours was… Well, it tells me that you offed a few people. Quite a few people, actually." He shrugged. "Can ya blame me for being a bit cautious?"
"I suppose," Grandt murmured, rubbing the back of his head. "Odd way to go about finding it out, though."
"Still, it is hard to believe you're in the military," Toriel said.
"I was in the military. I retired over a decade ago." Grandt grinned sheepishly. "These days, I'm just a cook – and a grandfather, of course."
Papyrus crossed his arms. "So… I'm confused."
Grandt paused for a moment. "Oh, sorry. I never did introduce myself to you, did I?" He saluted. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Papyrus. I am Major Grandt Journa of the Idyllian Army, Squadron Fourteen."
"A major?!" Papyrus practically squealed. "Y-you mean I'm not just capturing a human… I'm capturing an important human?! Wowie! Undyne won't believe this one! But she totally should!"
Undyne? Well, that was another name to file away for later.
"Grandt, why did you not tell me any of that?" Toriel asked. "If I knew you could defend yourself, I wouldn't have worried so much."
He laughed. "I've been retired for a long time, now. Whether I could fight before doesn't matter." Slowly, he raised a slightly shaky hand. "I may be able to cook, but I can't hold a gun straight these days. I used to be a bit of a pugilist, but… Well, I can't really punch too well anymore, either." He lowered his hand back to his side. "We men of the Journa family age quickly. Very quickly," he added with a grimace before placing his hands back into his pockets.
"I'm still surprised, though. I thought you were a cook…" Toriel muttered.
"I am," Grandt said, "but I do it more as a hobby than as a job. I did cook for my squadron sometimes. Never really wanted to make a career of it, though." He smiled a bit. "These days, I cook for Frisk – that's my granddaughter – and anyone who's hungry in Ebott. I guess now, I kind of do it full-time. Well, that and raising Frisk, of course."
Sans chuckled. "Well, it sounds like you've got a lot on your plate."
"Sans!" Papyrus shouted angrily, even as he clearly struggled to keep himself from laughing. "Stop doing that!"
"Papyrus, please do not be angry," Toriel said as she stepped closer to him, biting down on her lower lip to appear calm. "After all, Sans is right. It does sound like Grandt may have bitten off more than he can chew."
Papyrus simply stared at her for a moment. His eye socket twitched as he calmly turned around and began walking away. While he left, though, Grandt could have sworn that he heard a quiet chuckle of "nyeh heh heh."
After he was completely out of sight, Toriel and Sans burst out laughing. Toriel was much louder (and Grandt had never heard someone laugh so hard in his life), but Sans was still clearly audible in his mirth. As the two were obviously enjoying themselves and none of his words would break through anyway, Grandt decided to let them calm down a bit before he said anything else.
After the laughter finally died down and Toriel finished wiping the tears from her eyes, Grandt said, "Shall we head on?"
"Ah… Yes, of course," Toriel said, looking a bit embarrassed at her earlier display. "I'm sorry we have kept you for so long."
"It's fine. Honestly, it's my own fault for talking for as long as I did." Grandt idly played with the hair in his beard. "Though I would like to keep going if at all possible. I'd like to find some shelter soon. I'm not especially tired or hungry yet, but I can't say how much longer that'll last…"
"Snowdin's not far," Sans said, gesturing down the path. "Course, at the rate you're goin', it'll probably take a few days to get there."
"And if we don't pause every ten minutes so I can tell you about myself?" Grandt asked blankly.
"Eh, I dunno. Probably an hour or two."
"Great." Grandt clapped his hands together. "Let's get walking, then. If either of you want to talk, let's at least do it while we're moving."
Toriel nodded. "Alright, then let us be off. Snowdin awaits!"
"Eventually!" Sans added with a chuckle.
Grandt looked back at the two with a small smirk. "Well, if we keep standing around talking about it, there's snow way we'll reach it soon."
Toriel grinned, and Sans did that thing with his face that made his smile looked like it was stretching out a bit. And with that, the odd trio began their walk down the path again, this time together, and this time with a bit more purpose to their steps than before.
AN: Honestly, this chapter went completely differently than I'd originally intended. While I initially planned for Grandt to reveal himself as a soldier at a later point (which I'll go over when we get there), I realized partway through that the only way to keep Sans from asking about Grandt's past was for Grandt to not ask about Asgore. Since there was no reason for Grandt not to ask about Asgore and it would clash with his established personality, I decided to just roll with it and get that last bit of characterization out. Not to mention that actually having Grandt say it now helps to set up an actual twist that comes later on, and it'll help to cut down on the exposition of the scene where he was initially meant to reveal it.
As for exposition, it's pretty much finished for now. From now until we get to Snowdin, there shouldn't be any more chapters like this where the characters just stand around and talk about who they are or why they're in the Underground. Hopefully, we'll get there in short order, but I'm not certain about how long it'll take to get past a few dogs, Papyrus's puzzles, and several terrible puns.
As always, thank you all for your reads, your reviews, your favorites, and your follows, and I'll see you all next week!
