Happy New Year everyone! First off, I need to apologise for the wait. I know it's been a long time since the last update. Due to a mix of work, the festive period, a trip around the globe and other projects, I wasn't able to find much time to work on this fic at the end of last year. I can only apologise and thank you for your patience. Rest assured I am refocusing my efforts on finishing this fic and updates will be coming much more frequently from here on out!

The fic itself will not be an extended one and the story, for the most part, is already planned out from here. This chapter was a tricky one to write, as it's a fairly pivotal point in the story and I wanted to avoid infringing on my own continuity. I think the other chapters should be less of an eyesore in this regard. I've also discovered a few really cool fics on here that have encouraged me to up my game in terms of writing, though I'll let you be the judge of that.

A big thank you for all your comments so far - appreciate all your support and I hope you enjoy the coming chapters (I'm hoping I've saved the best for last)!

Dear Diary,

I can't sleep. My head is swimming with a mess of thoughts, though they're not often without a pattern. Despite my best efforts, my mind constantly strays back to home. I'd half-hoped I could put that place behind me forever. It was a case of naivety on my part – some things aren't so easily forgotten. Even now, as I write this, I struggle to keep those dark thoughts at bay. But I will keep writing, in hope that I can distract myself long enough for sleep to rear its head.

I wonder if this underground environment is taking its toll on me. My feelings of uneasiness have only increased since I ended up here. I know it can't have been long since I fell into the mountain, but it feels like I've been here for ages. Deep underground, the very concept of time seems to warp and shift constantly – a secret locked away within these walls. There is no Sun down here – no sky, no clouds. And the only stars are the ones they etched into the ceilings. Even those sad imitations seem so far away at times.

I sometimes wonder how they managed to survive down here for so long. The willpower needed to survive and form a society must have been gargantuan. I find it even more incredible that one of them would choose to stay down here when the others finally went free.

I still know precious little about monsters (Mom only told me so much) but, having seen this place for myself, their resilience is clear to me. We do not give them enough credit. They endured what humanity put them through, battled through conditions that could drive the best of us mad. But they never gave up hope. They are more than deserving of our respect. It just pains me to know that some of us will never understand that.

Flowey is still resting. He needs more time to recover but I desperately hope he wakes up soon. It took me a while to realise, but he's more vulnerable than he sometimes seems. And I'm becoming more protective of him, little by little. I don't want him to suffer any more misfortune, especially if it's on my behalf. I've already failed to protect him once – I'll need to be more cautious.

I still think it's strange how close we've become, all things considered. We haven't really known each other for long but he almost feels like a little brother to me – as ridiculous as that must sound. Though I can't put words to it, I can't deny this sense of kinship I feel.

I still recall that terrible vision – the vision that foretold he'd be hurt by those thugs. How is it possible that was I able to predict something like that? I wanted to believe it was a freak accident – a bizarre happenstance. I tell myself there's no way I could have known we'd encounter humans down here. But I can't shake this feeling of guilt that wracks me as I recall the events in my head. It's as if I should have known.

There's something else that's bothering me. As Flowey and I travel together, I'm constantly filled with a sense of wonder at every little detail of this place. And yet, there's a persistent feeling of recollection. It's as if I've somehow seen it all before – a sense of déjà vu that defies all reason. And it's everywhere! Even as I'm sat here writing this entry, I can feel a distant sense of familiarity creeping in. It's a feeling I can't dismiss – a feeling that grows more intense as we make our way through this underground world. I'd wanted to assume it's just my mind playing tricks on me, but it feels like there's something… tangible there. Some hidden truth.

It's these kinds of worrying thoughts that cause me to take refuge in my memories of the surface. Good and bad, they're still so clear and distinct and pure. Nothing is missing from them and I can gain some small comfort in their totality. It's kind of funny, in a way. All I'd wanted was to put them aside completely, but down here they're the only things I can trust – the only things that feel completely real to me.

There are still many things I don't know – things I don't understand. I get the sense I'm trapped in the middle of something bigger than any of this – and my mind won't make sense of it. I've felt this way ever since I arrived here. I'm just hoping it's not a bad sign. Once I'm out of here, I'll have time to get my thoughts in order. Perhaps these feelings will stop altogether.

In any case, it seems I was too quick to judge. For all its supposed emptiness, the Underground is far more dangerous than I'd expected. I'll need to keep my wits about me if I'm to make it out of here alive. After everything that's happened, I know I can't afford to linger here any longer.

I'm worried about Mom. I know she's still there in our little old house, trying to get on by – trying to change their minds about monsters like she always did. But many of those villagers know nothing of the outside world. They never treated her well in that place – she was always just an 'outsider' to them. Now that I'm gone, I'm worried about what might happen. They'll turn on her in an instant. After seeing what they did to Flowey, it's clear that nothing is beyond them.

I'd hoped things might get better for her if I was to disappear. I never considered myself to be a troublemaker – but there's only so much you can do to stay out of trouble in a place like that. And whenever I got hurt, it would hurt her too – she couldn't stand to see me suffer. I had to run away. If she ever finds out what happened that night, it would break her heart.

I thought I was left with no choice. But now I've gone and left her alone with them. And that swine, Aldous, he's on his way back there right now. She's completely defenceless. God, what have I done?

They still think I am meek and cowardly. But if that bastard does anything to her, I swear I'll hunt him to the ends of the Earth. Then he'll know who the real coward is.

It felt like a long time before Flowey was moving again. He would slip in and out of consciousness, waking up briefly every now and then before falling back into an uncomfortable slumber on the water's surface. I kept watch, patiently waiting for him to recover. Although a part of me was desperately eager to press on, I knew I couldn't leave him here alone and injured. I have a responsibility to him, I reminded myself. The idea that our paths were uniquely intertwined had become an accepted notion in my mind, though I was unsure where this strange thought originated from. Had I gone on without him, I simply would have felt lost.

As I waiting in silence, my thoughts wandered back to our encounter with those thieves. I thought of Aldous as I'd seen him before he'd made his escape, as everything was burning around us. Images of that evil man and his infernal grin filled my mind – it was a struggle to keep them out. I dreaded his intentions. I can't let him hurt anyone else, I vowed. I need to get out of here and get back home so I can warn Mom. Then we can escape together. That way, we'll both be sa-

My thoughts were interrupted as I heard a splashing noise. I glanced up to see that Flowey had fully awoken from his slumber. He was fidgeting irritably in the water, clearly signalling that he wanted to raise himself out of the pool, though he gave no indication of wanting any help from me. Very slowly, he allowed himself to drift over to the water's edge. Once he reached the ledge, I watched as he attempted to summon the strength to climb out – it was a strange sight to behold. After a couple of tries, he was just able to haul himself out of the water with the help of what little remained of his leaves. He staggered as he touched the ground and planted his stem in the dirt. He held himself up straight and violently shook himself dry.

As he stood like this, I saw the full extent of the damage he'd sustained from the fire. He was in a horribly mangled state. His golden petals were almost entirely gone, though some patches of sickly yellow remained. His leaves were blackened, burnt-away stumps and the dark blotches that covered his face gave him a sallow, drained look. His whole appearance exacted a deep sense of pity from me.

He swayed uneasily as he looked from left to right, not appearing to notice my presence. Though it was good to see him moving again, I quickly noticed how unexpectedly energetic he was. His movements were swift and nimble, as if born from a sense of urgency. Despite everything he seemed to have recovered some of his energy. He was surprisingly alert but his face bore a startled look, as if he'd just remembered something. I was about to speak when, without warning, he ducked down and vanished into the damp ground. I looked around the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was gone.

I had no idea what to think. Was he simply too weak to stay above-ground? Or had he really wandered off without me? I couldn't imagine what might have possessed him to venture off alone in such a state. Though I desperately told myself not to worry about him, I couldn't help but be concerned for his safety. What if those bandits are still lurking down here? I suddenly thought. They might do him in for good this time!

It was then that I recalled our time in Snowdin. When I visited the Library, I had wandered off without Flowey knowing my whereabouts. At the time, it had startled him too – more than I would have expected. As I considered this, I realised that I was being unfair to him. He'd already apologised for overreacting to my disappearance – he didn't need me worrying about his every move.

Though I was still keen to move on, I decided it was only right to wait it out in hopes that he would eventually return. Wherever he's gone, I'm sure he won't try and do anything dangerous, I reasoned. And unlike me, he knows this place from the inside-out. Even in his current state, it's unlikely he'll lose his way down here.

Having assuaged my fears slightly, I took a deep breath and settled down next to the water's edge, the spot from where he'd vanished. I sat there, with only the sounds of the water to accompany me, absent-mindedly drawing pictures in the damp earth with one finger. I would occasionally look over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the water. I frowned at what I saw. You look like a mess, I thought to myself.

To my surprise, it was not long before Flowey returned. He sprung out of the ground a short distance from where he'd disappeared. His reappearance made me glance up suddenly. He was facing away from me, short of breath and seemingly less energetic than he'd been before he left.

"Flowey!" I called out to him. "Are you ok? How are you feeling?"

There was a pause. He turned to look at me. His movements were slow and sluggish, his whole expression gloomy and dour. And yet I detected a hint of satisfaction in his eyes that seemed at odds with his sullen appearance. "I've seen better days," he muttered quietly.

I permitted myself a small smile. After what he'd experienced, it seemed miraculous that he wasn't in a worse condition. "I'm so glad you're holding together," I confessed, deeply relieved. "I was worried you were a goner."

Flowey looked up at me with an incredulous expression. "Who, me? What gave you that idea?" He stood up tall and proud. "Those upstart punks aren't gonna get the best of me! It'll take more than that to-" He stopped short, arching over as he gasped for air. He was having difficulty holding himself upright.

The sight of this was difficult to watch. I felt my smile fade, unable to shake the sense of guilt I felt. It'd been my childish outburst that'd caused this to happen, I reflected. "Flowey… I'm sorry," I said in hushed tones, a heavy feeling in my throat.

Flowey looked up at me with curiosity. "Huh? What's up?" he asked expectantly, his voice faint.

I suddenly remembered that I'd chosen not to mention my vision to him. He was still unaware of what I'd seen before things had gone wrong. Should I tell him? I pondered for a moment, though my indecision was not prolonged. I quickly decided there was no reason to keep what I'd experienced from him. "I don't know how to say this, but…." I hesitated for a moment. "When we were in the Wishing Room, I had… a vision of some sort. I saw that you would get hurt."

I noticed a subtle change in Flowey's expression. He looked straight at me. "You don't say?" he said in a curious but measured manner. He seemed practically amused by my confession, giving a friendly but pained smile. "You could've told me, y'know. It might have saved us some trouble." He leant over the edge of the pool, checking his reflection in the water with a disgruntled frown of his own. "And a few petals," he added.

I shook my head. "I don't understand why this is happening," I admitted with a sense of helplessness. "It's my fault this happened. And I'm worried that I might be a danger to you." I kept my gaze averted. It was difficult to speak to him directly. One look at his charred form would bring back the images in my mind of what he'd suffered – the fire and the chaos.

Flowey turned away from the water and looked me in the eyes. "Hey, come on – cheer up! It's not your fault," he urged sympathetically. "I might look like a dainty little thing to some people, but I can take a beating," he said as he waggled the stubs of his leaves with some amusement. He seemed to have rediscovered his previous energy, swaying gently as he spoke. "That's the perks of determination for ya!" he declared cheerfully.

I froze. A tiny gasp escaped my lips. What did he just say? It was that word: 'determination' – a word that provoked this fierce reaction in me whenever I heard it, though I knew not why. No sooner had he said it, the familiar but bizarre fixation within me was revived – a desperate urge to decode its meaning. All of a sudden, my mind was racing – my latent curiosity instantly reinvigorated.

I pictured the journal I'd discovered in the Snowdin town library – how it had made some small mention of 'determination'. I remembered my disappointment as my findings were cut short by the torn page – the answers literally ripped from my grasp.

I felt a burning need to learn more. What is determination? And what does he know about it?

"Flowey, I understand if you still need time to recover," I said cautiously under some pretence of consideration. "But I'm curious to know more about your power. Tell me about the 'perks' of your… determination."

Flowey looked up at me in amusement. "That's a strange request for someone like you, don'tcha think?" he remarked. "Kinda out-of-the-blue, if you know what I mean."

I didn't know how to respond, unsure of what he was implying. He turned away, surveying the glimmering pool of water. "Well… determination is the power to 'Reset'. The ability to return to your 'save point' – an earlier point in time," he explained aloud, as if reciting a set of lines he'd committed to memory long ago. "You can even escape death!" he added.

I kept my eyes on him. He was gazing with a contemplative eye into the depths of the shimmering pool. Though the water was crystal clear, there was no telling how deep the waters ran. The depths seemed to disappear entirely, shrouded in darkness and indiscernible to both of us. "Those are just some of the uses I've found for it. But sometimes, I get the feeling we've only scratched the surface," he mused, eyes focused on a single spot in the water. "I wonder what a truly powerful person could do. With enough power the applications of determination could be limitless, when you think about it. Who knows what other possibilities exist?" He turned to face me suddenly, fixing me with a searching gaze. "It's pretty exciting, don't you think?"

I felt myself stumble slightly as I took a step back. I could barely process what he was telling me. What on earth had I come across? He was speaking about these otherworldly concepts – 'resetting time', 'save points', 'escaping death' – as if they were the most obvious things in the world. Was I really supposed to believe that 'determination', whatever it might be, could allow for the development of these kinds of powers?

I thought back to the journal from the Library. It had mentioned that determination contained unknown properties – or something to that effect. It seemed that little was known about determination, even by Flowey's own admission. But surely such powers couldn't exist?

And then there was his assertion that he commands these powers himself. It seemed like a ridiculous claim – a 'determined' flower, of all things? On the other hand, I was quite sure I'd thrown out any pretence of normality the moment I met this soulless, temperamental, talking little flower. It was hardly what you'd call an everyday occurrence. Was it such a stretch to accept the possibility of having to add 'time travel' to his growing list of abnormalities?

My head was spinning. This is crazy! I told myself as I tried to steady my breathing. What have I gotten myself into? My head was a muddle of doubts and abstractions that I feared I'd never be able to make sense of. It seemed impossible to rule out any possibility at this point. Above all these thoughts, however, one lone question rang out in my mind: what does any of this mean to me? Why do I feel such a connection to 'determination'? What is the significance of this word to me?

I heard a small noise that broke my trail of thought. I looked up. Flowey was giggling at me. "You're funny when you go all dopey-eyed," he chuckled. "I'm curious to know what's floatin' around in that head of yours."

I welcomed his invitation to unburden myself of this cascade of conflicting thoughts, though I struggled to find my tongue. "You said that, using determination, you're able to 'reset' to an earlier time – and escape death," I spelled out, as if to reaffirm these concepts to myself. "Is that really possible? Have you ever done that?"

"Of course! That's kindergarten stuff for anyone with a shred of power!" he answered boastfully. And then, within an instant, his joviality seemed to recede. He paused. He seemed strangely unsettled, as if a disturbing thought had made itself apparent. "Come to think of it, it wouldn't have worked back there when they got the jump on me… what with you mulling about here."

"It wouldn't have worked? Why not?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

My question seemed to surprise him. "It's the golden rule, duh!" he exclaimed with some exasperation. "When two forces of determination clash, the strongest takes.…" He paused abruptly, as if a sudden realisation had just crossed his mind. "Hang on a minute. Are you telling me you don't know this already?"

I answered him with a blank, unwitting look. It took a moment before it finally registered with him that I clearly had no idea what he was talking about. "Unbelievable!" he cried, aghast at my bemused expression. He eyed me suspiciously – the same way someone might scrutinize a defective product. "This is ridiculous! How can someone be so ignorant of their abilities?" he murmured to himself.

I felt my breath catch at his words. My… abilities?

"Flowey, what are you saying?" I asked, unable to contain myself. "Are you telling me I have this power too? This... determination?"

What followed was a deeply awkward silence. Flowey fixed me with a look of baffled disbelief. He seemed completely dumbfounded. I gulped. Had I said something stupid? I was still unsure but, for perhaps the first time, neither of us seemed to know what to say to each other. After what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence with a dry little laugh. "You figure it out," Flowey said sardonically. "It'll be funnier that way."

My eyes widened. I tried to speak but he hastily dismissed my protests. "We ought to get moving," he said, waving aside my perplexed stuttering. Drawing himself up, he hastily disappeared back into the earth without another word, signalling the end of our conversation. And that was that.

I held a hand to my forehead. He's being more cryptic than ever! I gasped. I could understand if he was growing tired and unwilling to tolerate my constant questioning – but what he'd just told me was nonsense to my ears! He was speaking of the existence of powers over time – powers over life and death – and he wants me to 'figure it out by myself'?!

I tried to calm down. I'd like to think I had reason to believe that Flowey was speaking nonsense. Perhaps his ill health is causing him to suffer from delusions? I reasoned. The possibility he had become mentally unhinged was not a pleasant one – but how else was I supposed to make sense of what he'd just divulged? It all seemed completely ridiculous.

And yet I forced myself to consider the possibility that the powers he spoke of, the 'perks' of determination, might be true. Is it really so ridiculous? I wondered. I had experienced that strange vision, predicting that Flowey would get hurt at the hands of those thieves. And then I thought about the time he'd tried to scare me as a prank – how he'd displayed my soul, that strange, pinkish blob, to me before threatening to destroy it right before my eyes. I had fought back against him with some sort of power – an energy that had come from my soul. Perhaps I do have abilities of some sort, I considered. But how does any of this link to determination? They don't relate to anything he described. I never even knew I had such powers!

I sighed. I was getting nowhere with this. My thoughts were circling endlessly, threatening to tie my brain in knots. It's best to focus on what I know for certain, I realised. I still need to escape from the Underground as soon as possible. Flowey might not be able to travel far in his current state but we can still make some headway. On reflection, I was already beginning to suspect that we didn't have much farther to go. This lone suspicion spurred me on, filling me with renewed energy. I was still tired from having kept watch but this didn't bother me. As far as I was concerned, it was time to get back on the move.

I ran back up the slope where I expected Flowey to be waiting, leaving the quiet little pool far behind.