Genocide Number Ninety

by BookishAngelResurrection

Eighty-nine completed Genocide routes and a game that has never once gotten its happy ending. Five who can remember every single reset, but have never been able to change the outcome for the better. This is Genocide Number Ninety and five alone will have to change the course of the game, before the game changes them.

12. How Many Pieces Do You Wish?

Papyrus is waiting in the swirling snow. They can hear him breathing through the fog, little excited sounds like an eager puppy. It's entirely unnecessary for him to breathe, but the fact that he does anyway doesn't quite surprise them.

"HUMAN!" he calls and they ready themself for an attack, Frisk's hands in the mindspace curling around Chara's. Flowey snarls when they reach for him, so he must not want a hand to hold. Instead, his vines curl under the neck of their sweater and around the body underneath, concealing him almost entirely. They hear the skeleton clear his throat, as if embarrassed somehow by his own exuberance, then say in a voice a few decibels quieter than his usual volume, "HUMAN. ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS. FEELINGS LIKE THE CONFUSION OF FINDING SOMEONE WHO MAY BE DANGEROUS BUT DOES NOT SEEM SO. THE DESIRE TO HAVE A COOL, SMART PERSON THINK YOU ARE COOL AND SMART AS WELL. THE HOPE TO BECOME SOMEONE VERY GREAT. THESE FEELINGS…"

"Aw, he idolizes us," coos Chara, a split second before Papyrus continues in his usual shriek:

"THEY MUST BE WHAT YOU ARE FEELING RIGHT NOW!" He somehow manages to make excitement feel twice as exciting. Frisk's body twitches. They want to tussle. Not enough to hurt him, but just to play wrestle. Chara winces as they get the memory of a new bruise, but along with the recollection of hurt comes the feeling of giggling hard enough to fall over, of hands scooping them up and tickling their middle. Unable to contain that much eagerness, Frisk's head bobbles in a nod, hoping he sees it.

"Do you really idolize him?" Chara asks, sending sunshine over to Frisk's side of the body, running it through their veins. Frisk nods again, excited enough to hop around. Papyrus won't hurt them. He wants to play at fighting. He never attacked them in their memory, so they know they'll be able to spare him in one go. Or maybe, if he really wants a fight, they can have a snowball fight.

"I CAN HARDLY IMAGINE WHAT IT MUST BE LIKE TO FEEL THAT WAY. AFTER ALL, I AM VERY GREAT. I DON'T EVER WONDER WHAT HAVING LOTS OF FRIENDS MUST BE LIKE."

"Did he even say anything about friends? Where is this crud coming from?" Chara wonders, their jaw shutting with an audible snap when Frisk shushes them. "Are you really listening to this drivel? Hug him and let's go!"

"I PITY YOU…LONELY HUMAN.." His voice is heartbreakingly distant, as if he's looking at a child, all alone in the world, one not unlike Frisk. It would be rude to start moving during his speech though, so Frisk waits for him to continue. This anticipation turns into delight with his next words. "WORRY NOT! YOU SHALL BE LONELY NO LONGER! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE YOUR-"

As Frisk readies themself to jump into his arms and accept the offer of friendship, Papyrus stops. "NO. NO, THIS IS ALL WRONG! I CAN'T BE YOUR FRIEND! YOU ARE A HUMAN!"

"Wow, talk about being species-ist," Chara comments huffily over Papyrus's argument with himself and Frisk's own sounds of dejection. They start vocalizing over his subsequent declarations of his lifelong dream, so however hard Frisk tries to listen, all they hear is 'The Song That Gets On Your Nerves,' something Chara has snuck from Frisk's memory of watching television shows about elementary schools.

They try to shush Chara and listen at the same time, but Papyrus has stopped talking. A feeling mounts in their chest, as if someone has just shoved an icicle through them. The feeling trickles into their throat and they feel as if they open their mouth, they'll breathe frost crystals. They know this feeling. This is a real battle.

"Frisk, flee. Flee now."

There's no time. Their soul is tugged from their chest and they grab for it. The swirling snow clears, revealing their opponent, dressed in his usual battle body. Papyrus, poised to make another speech, pauses with his jaw open when he sees Frisk struggling with their soul, trying to hide it. "HUMAN?" he asks, lowering his eye ridges to seem concerned. "HUMAN, WE CANNOT FIGHT IF YOU DO NOT LET GO OF YOUR SOUL."

Frisk wrestles with their soul a bit more, trying to summon enough Determination to smooth over the cracks in the thing. Despite anything Chara says to comfort them, they're filled with revulsion at the sight of it; a misshapen heart that gives off a sore reddish glare, one that barely hides the tar-filled gouges running through it. It's the gouges that show the wear and tear of carrying two souls through so many resets. Most are from Chara, when they were lashing out in an effort to escape. Others though, Frisk suspects that they made these themself. No matter whose fault the scars are, their soul is gruesome.

"Look, let's just turn around. It doesn't matter enough for us to fight him. We can come back later."

'We can't,' Frisk says wretchedly. They were Determined to start this fight and they have to finish what they started. Tears prickle at the corners of their eyes as they let go, revealing their deformed soul. The tall skeleton stares at it and Frisk sees the pity washing over his face. It's mixed with some other emotion, revulsion maybe? Their own shame is only enhanced by Flowey's sharp intake of breath. "Is that r-really your s-s-soul?" he whispers, as if it could be anything else.

Frisk nods, their cheek brushing against his petals, and he hisses through his teeth. Whether it's from the unwanted contact or disgust, they don't know, but they're terrified that it's the latter. They just bring their arms up to hide their face, thinking of the old childhood adage: 'They can't see you if you can't see them.' They can smell jam on their sleeves. The morning spent at Grillby's seems as if it happened to some other Frisk, some other place. The world spins, the memory faltering. Chara seizes their arm before they can leave reality completely. They look into their friend's eyes, at the freckles dotting their cheeks and chin. There is trust there, an unspoken message. They inhale.

Chara exhales.

Chara stands straight and proud, cracking their spine and rolling their head around on their neck. When everything pops accordingly, they crack their knuckles one by one. As they lower their arms, they look Papyrus straight in the eye with their best creepy face.

And they spare him.

Almost cautiously, he summons a bone attack, running them in ridges that tear up the thin layer of ice to expose crumbling clods of earth below. The smell of bubblegum fills the air with its cloying sweetness. They dodge away, trying a cartwheel in Frisk's clumsy chubby body. To their delight, it works and they land elegantly, arms upraised as if saluting the sky. Again they spare him, waiting for the next attack. From here on out is uncharted territory. As soon as they spared him, they had started down a different path, one that they are Determined to see through to the end.

He's talking again as he raises one arm. Chara watches it and tenses, readying themself for another line of bones. Instead, when his arm comes slicing down like a guillotine, their body becomes sluggish and heavy, their soul gleaming in Sans's color. Chara can no longer spin from side to side as they usually would and their lip curls into a silent snarl. Papyrus is making this unnecessarily difficult.

As he sends another line of bones hurtling towards them, they try a different tack, leaping straight up. There should be no way that this works, that they can stay hovering in the air above the attack, but improbably it does. Chara walks up through the air as if there are invisible steps under Frisk's sturdy boots. Flowey curls his vines tighter, pretending for both of them that he can somehow make them go higher. He can't hold out against gravity, however. When they fall, they manage to avoid the last of the bones, making the spare signal as they hit the ground.

Despite Flowey's reflexive cushioning of their side with his vines, Frisk's shoulder aches from impact and Chara rotates it in its socket. A bruise is forming, but they have no time to nurse it. The bones moving towards them are blue now. Chara holds steady as the attack comes closer, shutting out Frisk's panic. The bones whisper through their body without harm, then Chara is rocketing up into the air to avoid a row of white attacks, lined up like a picket fence.

This time when they land, Chara digs through the knapsack for some monster food. A little magic should patch up their bruise and dull the pained gleam of their soul. Their fingers crinkle through something and they pull out a still-warm paper bag. Inside is a Cinnamon Bunny. Ever merciful, Chara bites off its head, breaks off a piece for Flowey, then puts the remainder back in the bag, thanking Toriel for her foresight.

They barely have time to slip the fluffy pastry into the plant's concealed mouth before Papyrus throws them another round of bones. This time, he talks just after they finish dodging. "YOU'RE THE HUMAN SANS WAS TALKING ABOUT, AREN'T YOU?"

Chara nods without a second thought. With Frisk's help, they sign with their sticky fingers "We're better now."

Papyrus gives them an uncertain grin, then their soul returns to its usual ruddy color. "HUMAN, I LIKE YOU THE WAY YOU ARE RIGHT NOW. YOU WERE KIND TO GRILLBY AND MYSELF AND THE DOGS. IT IS POSSIBLE THAT YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO BAMBOOZLE US. HOWEVER, I DON'T THINK SO. I BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE BEING SINCERE, THAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO END THIS FIGHT. I HAVE TO CAPTURE YOU FOR UNDYNE AND FOR THE KING. BUT," he looks at them and again, it seems as though he's looking at someone else, "BUT YOU'RE JUST MISUNDERSTOOD."

Chara makes the spare sign again, smiling. "Oh, sweetheart, if you only knew." Frisk sends up a wisp of confusion and Flowey hisses his disapproval in their ear but they wave him away, crouching and twitching their fingers like a gunslinger in a shootout.

"YOU DON'T LOOK LIKE YOU CAN CONTROL MINDS. AND THE GREAT PAPYRUS'S MIND IS SO GREAT AS TO BE IMPERVIOUS TO MIND CONTROL ANYWAY. AND MY UN-MIND CONTROLLED BRAIN SAYS THAT YOU'RE GOOD. MAYBE EVEN ALMOST AS GREAT AS ME." Papyrus ponders his dilemma for a moment, then rattles his bones. "I KNOW," he says. "IF YOU CAN WITHSTAND MY SPECIAL ATTACK, WE CAN LET ALL THIS GO."

Chara bobs their head up and down in a nod, listening to Frisk shout agreement. After ducking and dodging Sans's attacks, which are mostly sped up versions of Papyrus's battle, Frisk feels that a special attack will be a piece of cake. It's probably a skull blaster anyhow and those are simple enough.

"PREPARE YOURSELF THEN," Papyrus says, in a voice nearly at a normal volume. He looks around anxiously. Chara looks around too, wondering what he's hoping not to see. They see the water, the trees, and- their pulse hammers in their ears. Sans is leaning against a tree, where they'll be the only ones able to see him. From Papyrus's point of view, the edge of town is deserted. Papyrus snaps his fingers, Sans's eyes widen.

That's when their soul flares orange and they disappear, reappearing a few feet in the air on a conjured platform. Papyrus beams up at them. "HUMAN! ARE YOU READY FOR MY SPECIAL ATTACK?"

Chara makes an 'okay' sign. If ready is a synonym for 'about to vomit because teleportation is the worst,' then yes, they are very ready.

"You're cr-cr-crazy!" Flowey whisper-screams. They can feel his face melting into one of his raging expressions. "I duh-duh-didn't s-s-sign up to guh-guh- to g-get k-killed, you idiot!"

Chara glances over at him as subtly as they can with their best creepy face, hoping he'll get the memo and shut his trap. Frisk is already upset and name-calling rarely ends in anything good. That's why they're distracted when Papyrus sends a bone attack rocketing their way. It grazes their hip and they inhale sharply, looking after it to check the color. Orange. When they snap their head back, it's just in time. The platform has blinked them higher in the air and bones are ricocheting towards them, all gleaming orange. Papyrus's eyes are burning with the same color, twin suns blistering the air around his eye sockets.

Chara exhales, Frisk inhales, they breathe together, and they move. Frisk slides in beside Chara and with one thought, they send their body racing through the bones, skidding to a halt just before the platform drops away into thin air. The bone barrage ceases.

It's their turn now and they force themself to make the spare sign again, crossing their arms over their chest in an x formation that is as much protection against another attack as it is their intent to stop fighting. If Chara hadn't known how easy it was to kill him, they might have retaliated a little, just enough to get the message across that he had hurt them and that they're angry.

The next series of bones alternates in colors while the platform alternates in heights, which Chara deems even worse. Flowey curls himself around their throat, as if threatening to strangle them if they get them all killed. It seems rage has made him forget his fear of them as they twist and halt, twist and halt. Suddenly, the platform slams downwards, their heart crawls into their lungs, and they're in the snow again with dozens of bone attacks advancing. Yeesh, if they didn't know Papyrus was such a pacifist, they'd think he was trying to kill them. When the attack stops, they make the mercy sign once more as their legs shake with exhaustion.

It is rather surprising when Papyrus makes the sign back. The platform lurches under their feet and they wobble as it drifts forward. The surface dissipates and Papyrus catches them in his long arms as Chara falls forward. The smell of bubble gum disappears, replaced by that of tomato sauce and herbs. Chara inhales deeply to fill their lungs with that heady smell.

Frisk exhales only when their lungs feel as if they might burst. Papyrus adjusts his grip so that they are sitting up in his arms, able to look at something other than the underside of his jaw. "NYOO HOO HOO," he whimpers. "I CAN'T EVEN CAPTURE ONE HUMAN. THE POWER OF MY PERSONALITY IS JUST TOO STRONG. UNDYNE'S GOING TO BE DISAPPOINTED IN ME. I'LL NEVER BECOME A ROYAL GUARD NOW. MY FRIEND QUANTITY WILL REMAIN STAGNANT!"

Frisk impulsively kisses his cheekbone, hoping to cheer him up. It worked with Toriel. He stutters for a moment, then cries "OH NO! HUMAN, ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH ME? I DON'T BELIEVE I CAN HANDLE A RELATIONSHIP AT THIS POINT IN TIME!"

They shake their head until their hair is flying out of place, trying not to laugh at his crestfallen expression. "I want to be your friend!"

Papyrus considers this proposition, then nods. "VERY WELL, FRISK! WE SHALL REMAIN IN THE FRIENDZONE UNTIL YOUR TRUE FEELINGS CAN BE ADDRESSED."

Frisk decides that they'll correct him later and instead nuzzles into his chest. His "armor" seems to be made out of a cut-off sweatshirt rather than metal, and so it is plush and thick and just right for cuddling. Good too, because their legs won't stop trembling. They tuck them up under their chin and try to press themself into a shadow.

"You're such an affectionate kid," teases Chara, laughing when Frisk points out all the times they hugged Toriel. Some of their laughter sounds like it's rooted in hysteria, sharp and high, but most of it is genuine. Papyrus's presence has that effect on people. Chara's alertness takes a swift spike. Their mirth fades and Frisk can't understand why until they say grimly "Smiley at nine o'clock."

Sans is trudging towards them, hands in his pockets. He seems to be taking special care to scuff out their footprints in the snow. At the sight of his brother, Papyrus hoists Frisk up to his shoulders and shouts "LOOK, SANS! I MADE FRIENDS WITH THE HUMAN! THEY'RE A GOOD PERSON AFTER ALL! BUT THEY MAY BE HOPELESSLY ENAMORED WITH ME!"

Frisk catches a whiff of lavender and looks to Sans with narrowed eyes. Both of his pupils are present, even if his smile seems a little forced. "Of course he's mad. We just proved him wrong," says Chara, picking their manifested nails. The words alone would sound lazy, but Frisk can feel the alarm throbbing from their presence.

"you did good, bro." Frisk feels Papyrus shift uncomfortably. The tone in Sans's words is barbed, like wire fences or arrowheads, screaming for them to keep away. "i especially liked the orange attack. when'd you remember how to do that?"

Papyrus trembles, holding Frisk tighter. "I REMEMBERED IT THIS MORNING! I THOUGHT I WOULD GO AND SHOW UNDYNE AFTER I FINISHED THIS."

"uh huh. maybe you shouldn't do that." Sans shrugs, his thick jacket rasping against itself. "just a hunch."

"OH. OKAY! I HAVE TO GO TALK TO HER ANYWAY, REPORT BACK!" When Frisk transfers their alarmed gaze to him instead, he makes a sound like a cartoonish gulp, before backtracking. "I WILL DO MY BEST TO CONVINCE UNDYNE OF YOUR GREATNESS, FRISK. SHE NEVER HURTS A FRIEND ON PURPOSE!"

The fact that he has to add 'on purpose' alarms them even more and their face is an open book. "WHAT I MEAN IS THAT SHE IS SOMETIMES UNAWARE OF HER OWN STRENGTH! WHY, EVEN I HAVE BEEN SOMEWHAT BRUISED BY HER JOYOUS GREETINGS! BUT SHE IS ALWAYS APOLOGETIC IN HER OWN WAY! DO NOT FEAR!"

Frisk beams at him and makes Chara's 'okay' sign as he puts them down. "WHO KNOWS? PERHAPS YOU AND UNDYNE AND I CAN ALL HANG OUT SOMETIME! YES. I WOULD LIKE THAT VERY MUCH!" He pauses. "FRISK, YOU WISH TO RETURN TO THE SURFACE, DO YOU NOT?"

When they nod excessively, Papyrus rubs the side of his skull with his glove. "I THOUGHT SO. WELL, IF YOU KEEP WALKING, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO CONTINUE TO THE END OF THE CAVERNS. THEN YOU WILL BE ABLE TO LEAVE IF YOU STILL WANT TO. I AM OF THE BELIEF THAT YOU WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH THE UNDERGROUND JUST AS MUCH AS WE MONSTERS HAVE!"

With that and a confused look at Sans rather than another of his big smiles, he signs goodbye and strides off into the snow. Frisk waves merrily until he's out of sight, then their smile becomes a grimace and their shoulders tense. "What do you want, Sans?" they sign, turning around to regard the skeleton. Flowey presses against the nape of their neck, concealing himself in their shaggy hair.

"Nothing much. Just waiting to see how this plays out." His voice is dead quiet, but it is still louder than the whirling wind. "You sent Toriel away, you let Papyrus live. You're changing the pattern. You getting bored?" Chara notes that there's something more in this. He's worried about something else besides them.

Frisk acknowledges that, but points out that they have no proof. To Sans, they say "I'm not that person. I didn't make that pattern." They try to insert firmness into their gestures, raising their chin in an effort to hide the trembling of their lip.

"Then who did?" he inquires. Underneath his cool exterior, they hear real worry and realize they understand what Chara was talking about. If Frisk isn't doing this, then Sans has no idea how to fix it. If he doesn't know how to fix it, he can't protect anyone anymore. Unlike them, Sans has a whole world to protect.

"Tell him then, if he's so good." Chara's suggestion, though layered with a biting sarcasm, is a good one, so Frisk motions for Sans to follow them and keeps walking. They want to at least be in sight of Waterfall. It takes at least three days to traverse the Underground and they've already wasted one of them on Snowdin and the Ruins.

Waterfall sounds just as beautiful as they remember. The soothing susurrus of the distant cascades and the caress of the warm air puts them at ease. At least, until they remember who is following them. Their feet pause just before the beginning of the land bridge, where snow turns to soft marshy land.

Almost before Sans stops moving, Frisk's hands are flying. "There were voices. They said things in our head and I was trapped. I heard them talking to each other about scores and times, like it was a big game that they played. Then they were gone and I was me." He doesn't believe them, but he has to, he has to believe them, they don't think they'll be able to survive it if he kills them again. Their heart flutters and their ribcage feels like it's too small.

"Frisky, breathe," Chara whispers and Frisk feels a memory of the sun touching their face. Chara's memory, not theirs. They take a gulp of air and wheeze it back out. "Okay, again. In. Out. Good. Good job, Frisky."

Sans is talking, but Chara holds up a finger, telling him to hang on a second. When Frisk is breathing again, they lower their hand and gesture for him to continue. He is giving them a strange look, but it doesn't seem to be a particularly menacing one. "Did, uh, you ever see faces?"

Chara shakes their head so sharply that Sans seems inclined to disbelieve them, but it's true. They heard names sometimes, but they never saw faces, perhaps because they never wanted to look that far. Listening had been bad enough, hearing voices shout things like 'Headshot!' and 'That's one for the record books,' while their hands struck and struck at anything and plunged their fingers into soft dust.

"No faces at all, huh?" He shrugs, then blinks one eye closed when Frisk repeats his question. This is something other than his usual mocking wink; this time it looks like he's looking right through them to a far darker place. "Yeah, kid. I saw faces. Every time you fought me, I saw them in your expression."

Frisk nods and exhales, their energy for him spent with that one bizarre answer. There's no time for cryptic words when they've got all of the Underground to traverse. They sign a tired goodbye and turn to walk over the land bridge to Waterfall, pulling their scarf tighter to conceal Flowey. Chara is wrapped up in anger and Frisk tries to peel back a layer or two with the idea of seeing the landscape. Their headmate has almost started to relax when:

"Kid, wait."

Flowey trembles, but Chara reacts, stealing the knowledge from Frisk's head as easily as reading their emotions and just tearing into Sans with their sloppy signs. "My name is Frisk!" they shout, mouthing the words along with the gestures and shoving the letters at him. Frisk notes a dissonance between what is said and what is signed, but they don't have time to process it before Chara blasts by them to reenter the headspace.

Sans blinks in an almost perplexed way. "Frisk," he tries. "My brother really wanted to see a human." His next word almost falls out of his mouth. "Thanks." They all look surprised at that, the skeleton especially. He chuckles lowly and says "Welp, there's only so long I can stay away from work. See ya, k- Frisk." He is careful to skirt them as he walks by, leaving a healthy amount of space. Their dislike for him goes both ways, it appears.

He vanishes under the spray of the first and foremost waterfall and Frisk feels their legs buckle. Chara steadies them before they can fall. 'Why did you do that?' Frisk shouts.

"So you wouldn't fall on your face." Chara's pretending not to understand and Frisk absolutely despises that, most especially the little tone they get in their mental voice, the 'it's-for-your-own-good' voice. Frisk hated that voice even before it killed Toriel and they hate it now.

'He could've killed us again, Chara!' Sinking down to sit on the marshy grass, Frisk puts their head between their knees and lets out a silent scream. The vines around their arms and upper body loosen as Flowey moves to look at their face. His head comes in under their knee, careful to stay far enough away that they won't be able to grab him.

"Wh-what h-happened to you?" he asks, partly disgusted, partly confused.

Frisk squeezes their eyes shut against the wave of images. Flowey, Asriel, pleading. Their fingers plucking off petals one at a time as Chara screamed and Asriel cried and Frisk fled from the numbness that came into their chest every time they killed. Slicing off the flower's head and crushing it as they felt the world reset. Some times they'd kill Flowey even before his Asriel speech, when he took his dead self's face and they'd wear his corpse in their hair when they met with Asgore, hearing the crows of delight as the king saw the face of his son twined in vines and laced with petals and the thick layer of dust that covered Frisk's face. As the king crumpled in anticipation of their blow or in despair for the ruins of his kingdom. And again. Asriel crying, Chara raging, Frisk curled up in a ball of emotion, trying to block everything out. The voices laughing and something tap, tap, tapping and- they are struggling to breathe again.

Flowey dodges the first few drops, but the storm catches him by surprise. Humans shouldn't be this damp, but Frisk is and it brings up uncomfortable memories. So he says nothing and returns to his vantage point somewhere by their right ear. If they ask, he'll say that he's watching for any monsters that might jump them during their little hissy fit. But they don't ask, just cry and cry as if their heart was breaking.

It is with extreme caution that he tightens his vines and nestles his face behind their ear. Even if Frisk is a crybaby, Chara, his Chara, is still in there and maybe needs just as much comfort. Chara didn't like to be hugged unless they started it, but they weren't adverse to his head on their shoulder when they were sad, or a soft nose by their ear. He holds this position for a moment or two, feeling discomfort bubble in a nonexistent belly. This, this is weakness. In a world that's kill or be killed, he's setting himself up. But he's never been the best at controlling himself and this is curiosity, the hardest to contain. An experiment to see if his big sibling responds.

Frisk sniffs audibly and shifts to wipe a sleeve across their face, probably streaking snot across their cheek. He can't bring himself to miss that part of being alive, being full of juice and goo that just leaked out whenever it felt like it. Then their hand touches a coil of vine and he waits. His energy is making tiny 'friendliness pellets,' just in case. If they even hint at violence, he thinks, he's going to send a wall of bullets right through their head.

The pressure lifts and Frisk swipes at their face, turning to regard him out of the corner of their eye. If he tries hard enough, he might be able to see a glint of red in those brown eyes. But he won't, because he's afraid to see.

In a very quiet voice, Chara says "I'm just as scared as you are, Frisky, but I don't like playing nice. If he's going to be a jerk, I'm going to be mean. And he's hiding shit from us when we're the ones who need to know the most. It's not fair."

'Life isn't fair,' is Frisk's only comment as they stand up and walk into Waterfall, shaking spray off their heavy winter clothes as they pass through the curtain of moisture. Almost immediately, they start to sweat. Flowey is already yanking off his hat and tearing at his scarf with his teeth. They pause a moment to strip down to their pants and sweater, bundling all the clothes up in a roll and shoving it into their knapsack. The cloth bulges oddly now, stretched out by the strange shape of its contents.

"Take inventory," Chara suggests. Frisk thinks about pretending not to hear them, but the idea is actually a good one, so they sit cross-legged on one of the drier areas of earth and open their knapsack again. The roll of winter clothing is dropped beside them, where it leans uncomfortably by their side like a certain monster who will not be named, minus the heavy breathing and the smell of cheesy snacks.

The remains of the Cinnamon Bunny come out, along with what's left of Chara's chocolate. At the sight of it, the child drools, but Frisk resolves to only give it to them after inventory. Toriel packed them more clothes than they know what to do with; lots of socks (scandalous), some extra shirts, more winter gear, clean underwear folded into squares, etcetera. In one of the shirts, they find a parcel of sandwiches and a container of vegetables, along with a slice of pie only just beginning to crumble. She has also left them a packet of pencils in varying degrees of sharpness. Their gold is at the very bottom of the bag and Chara counts fifty-seven gold pieces exactly, just before Frisk hits coin number twelve.

'Gold's a lot less precious down here,' Frisk notes.

"Well, it's pretty much coming out of the walls. Home had a bunch of gold veins in the main city. I guess it's the same for the paper money you use up there. You're surrounded by trees, so you make paper."

Frisk has to agree with this logic. They bite off a corner of the chocolate bar before repacking everything in a much less orderly manner than Toriel had. While Chara works their jaw to turn the chocolate into mush, Frisk shoulders their pack and wanders into the tunnels of Waterfall, trailing the obsidian streams.

As soon as they see the blue of Sans's jacket, they avert their eyes. He's too perceptive. While other monsters might pass off a red drippy nose and watery eyes as a human characteristic, it's obvious that he would know better. Instead, when they see Monster Kid looking over the falls, they go straight to them. "Yo!" they cheer excitedly, spinning to face them. "Are you sneaking out to see her too?" Without waiting for an answer, as seems to be their norm, they continue, stars gleaming in their eyes. "Awesome. She's the coolest, right? I want to be just like her when I grow up." They chuckle when Frisk raises an eyebrow. "I mean, besides the whole capturing humans thing. I'll only capture bad humans." They glance over to the falls again and Frisk follows their gaze. The water just goes down and down forever. It makes them dizzy. When they take a step back, Kid looks back at them, saying "Don't tell my parents I'm here, okay?"

They make an okay sign and go to speak to the red fish. He explains Echo Flowers to them in an almost condescending manner. They're focusing more on his torso. Is it a shirt or a fishbowl? They can't really tell and the motion of the fish inside hypnotizes them. Flowey nips them sharply when he wants to move on. With Sans this close, he doesn't seem to want to talk. They don't quite know why yet, but they understand his fear.

Frisk moves past Sans's sentry station, gaze fixed on the ground before them. He doesn't speak, but they don't hear him breathing either. It's almost as if he just isn't there. That's fine. They wander through the next room like a zombie, feeling a creeping chill crawling down their spine. They're going to have to fight Undyne. Out of everyone they had to fight, she was always the worst. She was strong and fast and she was dripping and snarling, like some nightmare version of herself. The murky beast that Determination made her. They almost can't remember how she actually looks, aside from her monstrous teeth.

And the lighting changes. Hastily, they hurl themself into the patch of tall grass, moving through it until they collide with Kid. They know it's them this time and they can't help but smile, even as they look up through the grass stalks. To Frisk and Chara's delight and Flowey's irritation, Papyrus comes charging into view on the ledge above them. "HI, UNDYNE!" he shouts.

There's a stomping sound and the tip of something red appears. Undyne's hair, they recall. It's as red as blood. "Oh, don't be dramatic," Chara sighs. It would be comforting if they couldn't sense the way that Chara was shivering. Magic spears hurt very badly, especially when they slid straight through their soul and shattered their ribs. It left them choking up blood, most especially when it punctured their lungs and all they could breathe was their own innards. They'd never wish that death on anyone.

Papyrus is talking, vouching for them and their innocence, so they drag their attention from the memory of their hurts and eavesdrop. They didn't think it was possible to adore him more, but hearing him babble about how nice they are and how they listened to him, it just makes their heart feel three sizes bigger. A smile ghosts across Chara's presence. "I always forget what softies monsters are. They barely know you and they vouch for you." Frisk raises an eyebrow and Chara scoffs. "Sorry, Frisky, you're not that cute and vulnerable-looking. Monster Souls are naturally full of caring and sweetness and light. That's why Sans is such an anomaly. He doesn't trust easily, his eyes are weird, he's mean as all get-out, and he can remember everything. There's something awfully wrong with him." The bitter singsong way they say this last is both gloating and resigned and Frisk would pry but-

Papyrus has stopped talking. They can't even hear Undyne breathing. Frisk releases a sigh and looks up, only to freeze as they stare down the shaft of a spear. Undyne, hidden in a suit of heavy metal armor, stares back at them. Her remaining eye glows in the overly dramatic lighting like a lantern or some kind of deep sea fish.

This stalemate goes on long enough for Frisk to consider lying down and surrendering right there. It would at least stop their heart from beating so fast. The low thudding of their panic is so loud that Undyne can probably hear it even from ten feet up.

The spear glints and disappears from Undyne's gauntlet. Her face pulls back from the ledge. Their heartbeat is accompanied by the pounding of her boots against the marshy ground as she walks away. They hold still until every molecule is just shrieking with panic, then they scramble out of the tall grass, slurping in air like spaghetti.

'Something's wrong with me too,' they say finally. Chara doesn't argue and they walk away, ignoring the shouts of Monster Kid as they scramble after them. The next room is peaceful. They don't have to think about anything but the bridge seeds. Granted, they do run into Aaron, who's never particularly pleasant, but it gives them a chance to tease Flowey into flexing with them. With the both of them flexing together, Flowey complaining all the while, Aaron zooms away through the air at twice the rate he usually does. Chara's laughing so hard at the both of them that Frisk can't help but grin. Flowey curls his vines back around their arms, pretending that he didn't flex because that would be stupid. In a bizarrely thoughtful move, the seahorse gave them thirty gold pieces, which jangle in their pockets as they make their way to the door.

When their phone rings, they look at it, surprised. It's a very old phone, so they're flying blind on who it might be. They hit answer anyway and Papyrus shrieks through the phone at them. "HELLO! THIS IS PAPYRUS! IF YOU'RE WONDERING HOW I GOT THIS NUMBER, YOU'RE GOING TO BE QUITE IMPRESSED BY MY INGENUITY! I SIMPLY CALLED EVERY COMBINATION OF NUMBERS UNTIL YOU PICKED UP!" He pauses. "THIS IS THE HUMAN, CORRECT?"

Frisk looks at the phone. There is no texting function either. Where did Toriel even get this phone? Ignoring Chara's curious "what's a texting function?" they wait for Papyrus to realize his error.

"TAP ONCE FOR YES, TWICE FOR NO, OKAY?"

They tap once, confirming their identity.

"SO, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?"

They have to take the phone away from their ear to look at it again. Flowey, who has been unabashedly eavesdropping, makes a face when they look to him for guidance. Papyrus must take their silence as confusion, for he says hurriedly "I'M ASKING FOR A FRIEND! SHE THOUGHT SHE SAW YOU WEARING A FLOWER HAIR ACCESSORY! IS THAT TRUE?"

"Flower hair-" Chara turns Frisk's head to examine Flowey again. He could be passed off as a hair accessory. By someone blind. And fashionably inept. Papyrus isn't blind, but Undyne is half blind from what they remember. "And, y'know, Papyrus is a little inept."

'Excuse you, he is precious. And right. I mean, Flowey's in our hair. Technically, we are wearing him.' Frisk taps once on the phone.

"SO YOU ARE WEARING A FLOWER HAIR ACCESSORY? OKAY THEN. HAVE A NICE DAY, FRISK!" He hangs up and they snicker, playing with the phone's antenna.

'Should we call Toriel?'

"Not unless you want Flowey to talk for you. You call her and she'll freak and think you're in trouble."

'Oh.' That's probably reasonable. She is a little smothering.

When they enter the next room, Flowey and Chara inhale at the same time. Frisk looks up at the sparkling rocks embedded in the ceiling and sends a question to Chara.

"These are the monsters' stars, Frisk. Aren't they beautiful? Monsters, they used to wish on the stars in the sky and their wishes would come true. I don't remember the real stars anymore, but monsters don't either. This is all they have. I wish I had looked up more often. I bet our stars are twice as beautiful." Chara's voice is hushed, awed at the idea. Once more, Frisk regards the rocks, this time with sorrow. They love the night sky and can't imagine a world without the constellations, but this is all the monsters have. How strange that they took for granted their view of the galaxy, while monsters made do with fake stars.

Frisk doesn't want to hear the Echo Flowers. All they do is keep completely silent anyway. So, they wander past them. But then Flowey asks "D-don't you want to l-listen?" When they look at him, he does a neat little tilt of his head that looks like a shrug without shoulders. It's really no skin off their nose, so they touch the nearest one for him and wait. Instead of silence, they hear words and they smile delightedly, until they hear what the flower is saying.

"CAPTOR OR SAVIOR? ENEMY OR FRIEND? CAPTOR OR SAVIOR? ENEMY OR FRIEND? CAPTOR OR SAVIOR? ENEMY OR FRIEND?" The voice, toneless and quiet, goes on forever, repeating the mantra. Suddenly, the flower's petals are shredded and the whole thing goes brown and flops over. Flowey's friendliness pellets clink against the floor for a moment before he sends them away.

"What was that?" they ask, fingers shaking.

"It sh-shouldn't have b-been anyth-th-thing," the flower mumbles. Then he perks up. "Guh-go th-th-through the wall over there. There's some c-cool st-stuff in that room."

"Oh, yeah! The History Room! You'll love it, Frisky, it's such a nerd thing!"

'Gee, thanks,' Frisk deadpans, mind still half-on the flower's words.

Their headmate senses what they're thinking. "Probably a fluke. Don't worry, Friskit. Me and Azzy'll protect you." Chara sends them an image of themself puffing out their chest proudly, an arm around a body wrapped in plant life. Probably Asriel.

The History Room is a dock perched on black water. The motion of the waves beneath them makes the whole thing dip and rise with the current. It's not very comforting, but Frisk can ignore it in order to read the signs. They are in a language that they can barely understand. 'Chara,' they whine. 'Read it to me.'

Instead of Chara, Flowey starts reading out the words, using a vine to guide their arm to each word. "The War of Humans and Monsters." While other words seem to have approximately the right amount of letters, the word Flowey identifies as 'monster' is just one symbol. Three triangles, like the ones on Toriel's robe.

As Flowey continues to read, Frisk learns a little about the relationship between monsters and humans. 'I thought humans were the weak ones,' they comment.

"No way! It's the monsters. Human souls are big and bold and when humans want to, they can kill all of us. It shows what kindness gets you in the end; dust sprinkled on some item and a pile of leftover clothes." Frisk pulls on the collar of the sweater they're wearing in discomfort. Without Flowey's prompting, they move onto the next etching, waiting for an explanation of the picture there. But Flowey says nothing.

Chara's control prickles in their fingertips and they reach out to touch the etching, pressing their flesh into the thick grooves until it leaves imprints on their fingertips.

"We m-m-m-messed up, d-d-didn't we?" Flowey is wearing Asriel's face again and the sight of it makes Chara ball their hand into a fist, pressing so hard on the etching's face that Frisk is almost afraid it will fall apart.

"Yeah," Chara whispers. "We messed up everything." They sigh, but when Frisk manifests concern, they say in a voice so bright that it has to be fake, "Okay, Frisky, story time! Once upon a time, a pair of siblings thought they were heroes. But they weren't. The end. Let's keep going."

There's obviously more to the story than that, but Chara doesn't offer it, so Frisk doesn't press. Instead, they put some effort into being happy, skipping over to hop onto the ferry board.

The lighting changes as soon as they step off and their false levity evaporates like a puddle in the middle of an inferno. It doesn't help that Chara, who seems to remember everything, starts shrieking swear words and yelling for them to get out of here right now. They break into a run, seeing Undyne appear out of the corner of their eye. Then their peripheral vision is filled with blue and they're ducking and dodging spears. Thankfully, they only wind up grazed, but the pain is still sharp enough to make them run faster.

When they finally make it to the tall grass, their shoulder is bleeding. One of the spears had made it through their sweater and their insides are slowly making their way outside. They sit in the grass and shiver, locking up their motion as much as possible so she'll just get bored and go away. "It's okay, Frisk," Chara soothes, at about the same time that Flowey says "Stop shuh-shuh-shaking, y-you idiot. You're g-g-going to be f-f-fine."

The three of them huddle in the grass, feeling the earth shake with every step Undyne takes. She must be savoring the situation, having them trapped here, so she's milking it for all it's worth. They clasp their hands together over their head, covering Flowey's face with their arm in an effort to protect him too. 'Flower hair accessory,' they think nonsensically and swallow down giggles.

Undyne towers above them and from their vantage point on the ground, she looks as if she's the size of a mountain, eclipsing the sparkling stones in the ceiling. Her hand lashes out and they hear a grunt. To Frisk's surprise, it doesn't come from them. They uncover their head and look up to see Kid dangling above them, held by their cheek. It looks rather painful. Undyne hisses something angrily, too quietly for them to hear, and sets them back down before storming off. Still a little hazy on common sense, Frisk thinks that she needs a cape to complete her warlord look.

"I dunno," Chara chimes in. "Her hair's pretty spectacular."

They sit there a moment longer before Kid appears in their space, grinning hugely. "Yo! Did you see that?" they cry, jumping up and down. "Undyne just-" they vibrate for a moment before shrieking "-TOUCHED ME!" They do a little dance before nudging them with their head. "Yo, are you okay?" Their words seem genuinely concerned, so they flash the little monster a big smile to assuage their fears. The monster does a little jig in return. They seem like the kind of person who is just always happy, as if it's hard for them to be upset for too long. But Frisk has seen them upset, has seen them fearful, has seen them fall. Their hands have pushed them off the bridge. But right now, right now Kid is nudging their head under Frisk's uninjured arm and helping them stand.

"Yo, how about we have a picnic?" The question is completely out of the blue, but a picnic would be welcome. Frisk follows Kid into the next chamber, where a chunk of crystal sits displayed on a table. When they look closer, they see a piece of cheese stuck in it. Kid sits down with their back to the Echo Flower and wiggles a little. The pocket of their big sweatshirt surrenders a package, tied loosely with twine. They pick up the parcel with their clawed feet, shifting it around until they're holding it between their knees, and then bite through the twine. The paper falls away to reveal a Bisicle. Kid angles it towards them and Frisk breaks it in half, taking one stick for themself and putting the other in Kid's expectant mouth.

It's very peaceful, sitting there, licking their melting treats. Frisk feeds a few chunks of it to Flowey when Kid is in the middle of a grand story and Kid catches the motion. Flowey is surprisingly civil when Frisk introduces him, even though he asks about Kid's black eyes with more malice than curiosity. Turns out that Kid falls down more often than Frisk knew, which is why they have Bisicles on them in the first place. Indeed, as they chew their treat, the marks start to fade a little.

Chara seems content to listen and offer a few suggestions when Kid decides they want to play. In light of recent discoveries, Frisk teaches them to play Bubblegum instead of a rough-and-tumble sort of game. They didn't quite realize how difficult it would be when one player has no hands and the other can't speak, but Flowey's okay with translating their signs and Kid figures out how to slap their tail around enough to play.

Undyne can wait a little longer, they think.