"Is this weird? I think this is weird," says Brent, peeking through the window of a shop. All the lights are on, but no one's at the counter or browsing through the assorted wares.

Frisk, whose chest had started hurting again as soon as they entered city limits, leans on Catty as the girl chews on her claws. "Like, where is everyone?" she asks, pressing them into her soft side as if she can protect them from the quiet.

Ness emerges from an apartment building. "There was no one at the front desk or anything," he reports.

"Okay, like, there is something way freaky happening here," says Bratty's voice. She rounds the corner with a sandwich in one hand.

"Girl's got priorities," Chara says, sounding impressed.

"What the- where'd you even get that?" Brent asks.

Bratty rolls her eyes at him, offering it to Frisk. There's a bite taken out of it, but they don't care. They have a Glamburger they pulled out of the garbage somewhere in their pack for heaven's sake. If what they're feeling is hunger, they just want it to go away. Dusting off her hands on her jeans, Bratty straightens and addresses the group. "There's, like, briefcases on the ground, like people were coming home from work. I got that out of a house. Someone was chowing down and just... stopped. The fridge was still open and everything."

Frisk stops chewing, their cheeks full of what tastes like sprouts. They look at the sandwich suspiciously.

Ness notices and says quietly "I think the sandwich is okay, Frisk. You can eat it."

Everyone else is still preoccupied with the empty city. "What about everyone who came home from the show?" Brent asks, looking pale under his fur. "Loads of people left the CORE through the New Home elevator. Where'd they go?"

"Maybe they went to hear the king, like we were doing," Bratty suggests. "He did say all monsters."

"Maybe," Catty allows. "But, like, it doesn't feel right. Who leaves their fridge open? It's kind of a waste of magic, especially with the CORE down. Plus, like I can't hear anyone at all."

Brent nods. "If there was a crowd, you'd be able to hear them or King Asgore from here. It's like the whole place has been abandoned."

"One of the hotel bathrooms left the water running," Ness volunteers. Then a funny look crosses his face. His ears twitch.

"See, it's things like that!" Bratty agrees, pacing a little as she tries to figure it out. "You're right, who would do that? And, if they, like, didn't do it on purpose, which they totally didn't, what happened?"

Ness's ears flop over. His head follows, listing to one side as he squints his eyes.

"Are you b-broken?" asks Flowey, tilting his head to mimic him.

"I'm listening."

Flowey turns to Frisk and says in Ness's voice "He's listening," in such a serious way that they have to giggle.

"Hey! Don't mock him!" scolds Brent.

Flowey adjusts accordingly and Ness's features melt into Brent's. "Hey! Don't mock him!" he mocks, sticking out his tongue cheekily as he sprouts two putty appendages that mimic Brent's ears.

Brent's eyes narrow. "Buddy, call off your flower-"

Flowey's eyelids droop, half-lidding his eyes as he drawls "Buddy, call off your flower."

Brent's eyebrows drop like anvils and his narrowed eyes squint. He makes a motion like he's about to roll his short sleeves up even farther, staring Flowey right in the face. Frisk has to bite into their sandwich to keep from laughing. "Flowey, stop it," they sign, sandwich hanging from their teeth and shedding sprouts. They poke the last of it into their mouth.

In the same instant, Ness gasps, whipping his head around. "Catty!" he hisses.

Her ears jangle as she perks them. Her eyes widen, then narrow into yellow slits in a single second. Then she's off, chasing the sound of something. Ness skids after her, his red sneakers slapping the stone.

"Oh hell no," snaps Bratty, grabbing Frisk under the arms as she follows. Brent brings up the rear, his lungs already beginning to wheeze. Working behind a burger shop counter must not give him lots of opportunities for exercise.

"There you are!" they hear Catty cry. Bratty rounds a building to find-

"Mads?" Chara asks.

Ness and Catty are jogging to keep up with a dummy. The dummy's wooden stand strikes the stone with every hop, sounding out a clapping sound, probably the sound someone would make with a wooden leg.

"Th-that was them?" Flowey asks under his breath. Frisk wriggles until Bratty sets them down, then they too run over to Mads. The dummy barely reacts. Frisk tries to get their attention. They wave a hand before their face, poke their nose, and finally latch onto their neck, dragging their heels on the stone. Mads stops hopping and finally shakes their head, looking down at them curiously. Unprompted, Flowey calls "Hey, Mads! What're you d-d-d- where're you going?"

The dummy twitches so badly that Frisk thinks they can feel their heart skip a beat in response. "What, what, what does it look like I'm doing?" they ask. "I'm headed to New Home, like every other sucker!"

"Y-you're in New Home," Flowey points out. "Are you g-going to go see A-Asg-gore?"

Mads's head snaps up, looking at all the buildings as if they hadn't even noticed them. "It's time for everyone to pay their respects," they say, squinting. Their expression is shifty, almost mistrustful. That's when Frisk notices their head.

"Your head is fixed! Who did that?" they ask, releasing the dummy's neck in order to sign. The previously split open stitching has been completely redone in a delicate hand, shimmering thread creating elaborate, spiky patterns across Mads's head and down the back of their neck. It kind of looks like something, but what Frisk can't figure out.

Mads has started hopping again, but they answer "Some nice girl at Mettaton's show. Said she was a friend of yours."

Frisk smiles, surprised. Monsters actively identifying as their friends must be a good thing. Chara's a little disappointed that Muffet hadn't done it, but Frisk's delight at having a nameless friend overwhelms that disappointment.

"It's super pretty," ventures Bratty.

"What are those designs?" Ness wonders, flicking a finger toward them.

Mads keeps going, not even pausing to look. "Who knows? Thread's wonderfully useful though. I look awesome."

Frisk thinks of something else. "Where's Blooky and Mettaton?" When Flowey translates, Catty gasps and takes a hold of Bratty's arm excitedly. Brent, on the other hand, ducks his head, glancing over his shoulder as if his boss might suddenly appear behind him.

"I told them to follow me. They'll be here soon." Bratty squeals in a voice no louder than a kitten's mew.

"Did Alphys fix him yet?"

The dummy twitches again, just as badly as the first time. "Yes," they answer. "I told them to follow me at the lab. They'll be here soon."

Chara thinks they see Ness make a face of some sort, but when they turn to him, he is wearing his perpetual smile. Thinking of Mettaton has reminded Frisk of something else, asking "How many monsters are there in the underground?"

"Do I look like I'd know that?" Mads snaps.

"Four to five hundred," answers Catty. With a shrug, she notes "Stats class taught me something after all."

Frisk thanks her and poses their next question to the group at large as they make their way through New Home's empty streets. "How does Mettaton get his ratings?"

"Wait, I got this!" Brent says triumphantly, pointing his stub of a cigarette into the air. "It's soul power or something. Everybody's soul sends a signal and the ratings pick up from that."

Flowey gets what Frisk is asking. "H-how'd he get ten th-thousand then?"

The group falls silent a moment, considering the weight of the number. "That's like every monster who ever lived," mumbles Ness.

The girls look at each other a moment. Bratty snaps her fingers. "Alphys! It was totally Alphys!"

"The royal scientist?" Brent asks.

But Frisk gets it. "She's a hacker."

Flowey cuts in. "Sh-she p-probably made the grid herself."

Chara's eyes light up. "So when Undyne realized things were getting bad for you, Alphys distracted him."

"It also let him win," muses Frisk. They can appreciate that, Alphys letting him win a little. They have to remember to thank her. She probably saved their bacon out there in more ways than the ones they'd found.

When they look towards Mads, they find them hopping at a much faster pace. Chara makes an annoyed sound, but Frisk just hastens their strides so they can walk at Mads's side. This close they can notice something. "You're shaking," they observe.

"Huh? Huh? HUH? Whaddya talking about? I'm fine!" But the dummy only shakes more. The teeth in their middle are worrying at their seams, as if their own cloth is too rough for them.

"Do you want to leave your body for a little?" Frisk asks, moving before them to slow their pace. The dummy's discomfort makes them nervous. "We won't mind waiting for you." They gesture to the teens, whose late night exploits seem to be finally starting to weigh them down.

Not even sparing the teens a glance, Mads swerves around them, hopping faster. "No! I'm alright! I'll take a break when we get to New Home. We have to get there first!"

"Mads! We're in New Home! Slow down!" Frisk grabs for the dummy and their fingers graze the stitches. Within seconds, they cry out, putting their fingers to their lips. The skin there is red and raw, as if they'd stuck their fingertips in a light socket. The ache in their chest seems to have taken on a life of its own. Chara hisses, trying to twist away from it.

When they look up again, Mads is gone.

…

The crush of people in Hotland reminds Sans of the evacuation into the True Lab. The crowd is claustrophobic and he's sure someone's breathing on him. Probably Jerry. It was always Jerry before.

Grillby's voice rings out again. "Excuse me, ma'am, have you seen a skeleton? About this tall, red scarf?" Sans can't hear the woman's reply, but Grillby squeezes his hand in disappointment. No Papyrus.

"papyrus!" he calls. Then, "doc!" No answer to either.

"Papyrus! Doctor Gaster!" Sans can feel Grillby's flicker of frustration. Then there's the sound of a cell phone dialing. Papyrus's voicemail message plays tinnily through the speakers of Grillby's phone. The sound of it makes Sans's stomach lurch. He's heard it three times already and that makes three times that he's heard it in his entire life. Papyrus never turns his phone off.

"Excuse me! Have you seen a skeleton? Tall, red scarf? No? How about a slime monster?" Grillby moves and Sans stumbles after him, mind working to try and figure it all out. Why would Papyrus have been caught anywhere near the explosion of the CORE? He was at the show, which means he should have gotten out before it happened. But Sans has a horrible feeling that Papyrus went looking for the CORE. That he found it and- and then what? Tried to open it? Tried to destroy it? Gaster must have told him to do it. That's the only reason Papyrus would try anything like that. And after he opened it- or destroyed it- what had happened? Had it hurt him? There's no other explanation for him not answering his phone. He must be hurt or unconscious. If he was dead- Sans closes his eyes- if he was dead, Sans would know, wouldn't he? He would feel it? He's unsure. He had known every time that Papyrus had died, but none of this timeline's events make sense. He doesn't know anything anymore.

"Why the hell are all these people going the same way?" groans Grillby. His hand heats up in Sans's grip.

"papyrus! doc!" Sans yells again, louder than before.

"Sans!" calls a voice in response, muffled and metallic.

He recognizes it, but it's the wrong voice. "undyne? undyne! have you seen papyrus?"

"That's what I was about to ask you! Where the hell's your brother? He's not answering his phone and it's pissing me off!" Sans thinks that he can feel his ribcage constricting around his soul.

damn it, papyrus, where are you?

"We don't know where he is, Captain. I've called him three times." Grillby crackles worriedly, but there's a bright side to this: Undyne still remembers Papyrus. She still remembers him, so he couldn't have fallen into the Void. He could still be hurt, or even dead, so the bright side isn't quite as bright and Sans is still popping the joints in his fingers to keep from going completely crazy, but at least he won't be alone in remembering while everyone else forgets.

Undyne groans and Sans can imagine her expression, scanning the crowd as they're all jostled along. "Here, you two, come with me." Grillby jolts. Undyne must have grabbed him because their pace is doubled. "Hey! HEY! Move aside! Royal Guard business!" Someone mumbles something and Undyne raises her volume. "I am your captain, kid! Don't try and sass me!"

"Captain, where exactly is everyone going?"

"D- Asgore called a freaking meeting. Didn't tell anyone. Nothing's set up. I don't even remember how to cast an amplification spell and I can't find the Canine Unit or Papyrus, so I have to get to New Home before anyone can show up! And I left Alphys to deal with the box boy and it's a pain in my ass, let me tell you!" Grillby trips over himself as Undyne pulls and Sans has to dig in his heels to keep the fire elemental from falling.

"what's asgore calling a meeting over?" he says, managing not to ask where Papyrus is instead although those are the only words that want to come out.

"Dog's dust, have you two been sitting under a rock? The angel showed up! And Asgore's calling everyone in, saying something about paying respects and crap."

"technically, we're all sitting under a rock," Sans says, too distracted to make the most out of the joke.

"Who is it?"

"I'll be damned if I know! I haven't gotten there yet!" Sans is rammed into someone by Undyne's force and the captain of the guard screams her frustration. "Everybody move!" The crowd noises completely cease. "Thank you!" Undyne groans.

"Captain, do you know something about a dog?" Grillby asks as they follow her down the newly cleared path.

"I know something about five dogs- I know that they're a goddamn pain in my ass when they don't pick up their phones!" This last bit she raises her voice on, hurling the words into the air, which cools as they exit the crowded CORE. People's voices, gaily chattering as they rush by, fill the air. Sans lifts his head a little. Though he can't see it, he remembers New Home as a cluster of towering stone buildings, magic humming through the air, voices washing over each other as people move from place to place. The voices are still here, even if he can't feel the magic.

Grillby tries again. "We spoke with Gerson before we came here-"

"Did you?" asks Undyne, not really paying attention. "Hey, you! Break it up before I come over there and break your heads!" Something jingles and Undyne swears. Then, her fingers clanking on her armor as she goes through her pockets, she swears again, but this time it's in a voice that seems less tightly-wound. Still furious, of course, but that's Undyne. "Guess what? Your brother's broken his leg."

"what?"

"The doc just texted me from his phone. Their battery's running down and shit, but they're okay." She sighs and her pace resumes.

All the tension just slips out of his stance, only to be replaced by a faint prickle of anger. "where are they?" Grillby squeezes his hand again, trying to nonverbally tell him to relax. It would be more convincing if he couldn't hear the way his friend's flame is snapping like a wildfire.

"Somewhere around here. I'm gonna text them the address of the best healer here." There's a clang and he assumes from the faint ringing that Undyne had forgotten about her armor and had clapped her hand to her head in aggravation. "Still, without him, I'm still gonna have to get this garbage done myself."

His hand curls into a fist in his pocket and something sharp scrapes against his bones. Sans runs a finger over the badge in his jacket, feeling out the etched M. He had almost forgotten about this. Why had Temmie had the badge of the former Royal Scientist in her desk? Not just the former Royal Scientist, in fact, but the very Royal Scientist who had pulled his dad into the void. That couldn't be a coincidence. There was no such thing as coincidence.

"Look, Grillby, can you get where you're going without my help now? The two of you are going to slow me way down and I do not have time for that today." Her words rush together and the clanking of her armor striking stone means that she's practically jogging in place.

Grillby makes a last ditch attempt, dropping all subtleties. "I would say yes, Captain, but there's a worm on the loose and I think you might need to know about that."

This makes her stop, her armor rattling into silence. Her breath is echoed inside her visor. "You're kidding," she says flatly.

"I wish I was. We spoke to Gerson before we came here. He told us about it."

The smell of Undyne's magic rises sharply before it is cut off by her control. "Grillby, tell no one, understood? What exactly did Gerson say? Come on, walk and talk, let's go." Her boots clack against the street and Grillby's rainboots squeak as he follows.

Grillby tells her, Sans filling in what he forgets, and Undyne listens without a word. But they tell her about the patches and her breath hitches and Sans remembers suddenly that Undyne's father had been one of those to fall down.

"Sans, what did those patches collect exactly?" Undyne asks when the story ceases. At some point, she has materialized one of her spears, which buzzes and sparks as she taps it against her leg. "Why did they kill people?"

"i have no idea," he confesses. "how about you, know anything?"

"I've heard something about the tapestry thing, and Gerson told me about the artifact, but it's just a story. It's too weird to be true. Just a dumb story."

"But it's obviously not if it relates to these events," Grillby says quietly. "What story would that be, Captain?"

"I'm not a kindergarten teacher! I don't do stories!" protests Undyne. Sans gives her a hard stare and Grillby must do the same, because she gives in.

"Seven mages sealed the Barrier and locked all the monsters underground," she recites. "We were trapped, but we thought we were safe. And then monsters started to fall down. Never before had we seen the kind of hopelessness that killed, a hopelessness that lay heavy within a monster's very soul."

"The worm," Grillby says, his grip tightening on Sans's hand.

"Nah. The worm, the one we know, came after." Undyne takes a breath.

"The king of the monsters knew something was preying on his people, but he didn't know what. He did what he could, leading hunting parties for the creature, comforting survivors, caring for those left behind. His queen asked the elders of their knowledge. It was Captain Dogma who reminded her of the belief of the dogs." Undyne clears her throat, then utters a mangled bark. "I can never pronounce that right," she notes.

"Anyway, the dogs believed in duality. Good dog and bad dog, both fighting constantly. That kind of crap. They thought that what was happening was that the bad dog was winning so bad stuff was happening. So they told the queen to find the good dog. But it found her instead."

Sans feels a strange shiver run up his spine, like someone had just brushed their fingers along his neck. His hand slaps at it instinctively, rubbing the base of his neck, but the feeling trickles down into his chest instead, like an itch inside his ribcage. He cranes his head around, trying to figure out where it's coming from. Undyne's voice deepens as the story continues, forming its own kind of magic.

What it looks like changes with each rendition of the story. Some people say it was a big black dog with one blind eye and backwards feet. Others say its fur was fire and its teeth were knives. But the dogs saw it differently. It was a little dog, they say, white like snow. When she touched it, it told her all her thoughts and fears, and then it told her of the creature. It was a sickness, a despair, a hopelessness monsterkind had never met.

It was taking souls, gathering them in its chest where its own soul should have been. The good dog told the queen that if she wanted to destroy the sickness, she would have a blanket made, a beautiful tapestry. It would be soft like sky, green like growth, and calming like rain. It would have to be a sanctuary and a trap, as dual as the legend she had heard.

So when the king returned, the queen told him of what she had learned. The king was unsure, but his queen was adamant and she had never been wrong before. The king wove a tapestry and she spelled it. The scene it depicted was the world above, a picture of the mountain monsterkind remains under. It was made from the strength of their magic and became soft as sky. It was made from the brilliance of their hopes and became green as new growth. It was made from the beauty of their dreams and became calming like rain.

(Now the feeling is in Sans's skull and it makes his fingers curl. It feels like someone's watching.)

The good dog came to take it from them and the king asked to go with it. The good dog bade him then carry the tapestry and follow only it. He agreed. It bade him remember his kingly vows and then it led him into the darkest recesses of Home, through cracks in the stone and into the very walls. And when the king entered, he could feel the hearts of his lost people. They called out to him, wailing for his magic, for all of theirs had been cruelly taken from them. He begged the good dog to let him stop and help them. But it reminded him of his kingly vow. So they continued on.

The good dog led him into the most searing heat, past the volcano in the heart of the mountain, and the hearts of the king's lost people called out for him once more, begging for his hopes this time, for they had none anymore. Once again he begged the good dog to stop and let him help them. But it reminded him of his kingly vow. So the king could not stop and they continued on.

The good dog led him into the most blinding light, past the walls, and into the deepest night. And this was the Barrier. For a third time, the hearts of the king's lost people called out for him, crying for his dreams, for all of theirs had been broken in the coldness of death. When he again begged the good dog to let him stop and help, it put a paw to his arm and told him 'Go then, spread the tapestry down and bid your people come to you. Tell them of your magic that is soft as sky, of your hopes that are as green as growth, of your dreams that are as calming as rain.'

The king did as he was bade and stood, calling for his people, offering them the magic and hopes and dreams they wanted, the love his queen had spelled into the tapestry and the softness he had woven.

But nobody came.

His lost people came to meet him and they were not his people. They were sharp and grey with dust, and in the thrall of the sickness the hollows of their eyes were green like poison. They had no magic anymore for the sickness had sucked their souls hollow. Underneath their skin wriggled its venom.

But the king of the monsters was not frightened, for they had been his people once and his people they would always be. He opened his arms to them and said 'This tapestry will save you, will give you magic and hopes and dreams again. Come, take it. It is a gift for you.'

The lost faded away into the darkness and the sickness took their place. It was as white as lightning and as large as a storm. It asked the king, in a voice like thunder, 'Would you truly offer your strength, your hopes, your dreams, to me?'

'No,' answered the king. 'This is a gift for my lost people, and I wish for you to give it to them.'

'So shall it be,' the sickness told him and it reached for the tapestry. And in that moment, the king saw it for what it was and called its soul into combat.

The sickness had no soul, but an orb rolled from its chest and within it spun what remained of the souls of the king's people. This the good dog stole from the ground, quicker than a lightning strike, and dashed it against the wall. The force behind its blow broke the orb open against the stone of the mountain. The souls of the king's lost people fled into the tapestry, for the king had made it as a sanctuary.

The sickness roared, for it saw it had been cheated, and it reached for the king. He stood his ground and saw it again for what it was. He called it by name and its name was dust and he was not afraid. It would not touch him then. The good dog took the tapestry and wrapped it around the sickness, pulling it tighter and tighter until there was nothing left but the tapestry, for the queen had made it as a trap.

And the king saw the good dog for what it was and was heartsick. He called it by name and its name was dust and he was afraid. The tapestry began to unravel. 'Do not be afraid,' said the good dog. "Do not be afraid, for your people are only going home. Those you lost have been found. And when they have all left, the sickness too will be gone. It will have no way back. You must take the orb and you must hide it. You must lock it tightly away. When the sickness has gone, you may find it again, but only then, never before. The tapestry I will hide and guard until it too is gone. Return now to your kingdom and rejoice in the living. The dust is my domain as are the dead.'

"The king hid the orb inside a puzzle and the dog disappeared. And no more monsters would fall down for as long as the king would live." Undyne's voice is distant as she finishes the story. There is a breath of quiet in which the only sound is the steady heartbeat of Undyne's boots on stone.

"except they did fall down." Sans regrets it immediately and the smell of Undyne's magic hits him in the face like a punch to the jaw.

"Yeah, well, we fucking know that wasn't Asgore's fault now, don't we?" she snaps. Grillby stops walking and Sans's steps follow. The scent of flowers sits heavily in the air and Undyne's magic wraps around it like the coils of a snake. They must have reached the gardens. "It's just a stupid story anyway. There's no orb. The dead are dust and that's all they are and that's the fault of the damn worm. Just- just stay here, okay? Listen to whatever Asgore says, find Papyrus, and then I'm coming back here to get you and find that worm." She stomps away, taking the scent of her magic with her.

Sans groans to himself. Of course. Of course. Offend the person who has given them the most information they've heard all day. Good going, Sans.

"Sans," Grillby starts.

"i know, i know, sorry, grillbz."

"Patches, Sans." There's a certain force behind Grillby's words that Sans can't identify as anything but anger.

Sans tilts his head. "you've never sworn at me like that. i guess what's happening's really needling you, huh?"

Grillby doesn't even snicker. Sans has to yank his hand away because Grillby's is suddenly white-hot. "No! No, Sans, patches! The tapestry was unraveling."

The realization makes him sway when it hits and it hits with the force of a boss monster. "oh fuck. grillby, can you still see undyne?"

"SANS!"

"papyrus?" Temporarily caught off-guard, he swivels his head. Papyrus grabs him in a hug that smells like mint and bubblegum- and rot. "papyrus, what-" The mint becomes more overpowering as Gaster hugs him as well. "dad-?"

"SANS, THERE'S A DOG. SHE'S A DOG NOW."

"What? What's a dog now?"

"THE WORM," Papyrus says and Sans feels the world shift under his feet.

…

They had gotten lost originally (as it turns out, none of the teens quite know where the gardens are and Chara's memory doesn't mesh well with renovations), but when they find them, the gardens are gorgeous. Frisk had thought they would be more like a park, but what they're looking over is an amphitheatre, one set deep into the stone of the city. The castle overlooks its grey grandeur. Flowers tangle around each other as they climb towards the sunlight filtering down and the seats of each step are cushioned in springy moss and green grass. It's one of the most brightly-lit places Frisk has seen in the underground and it makes them homesick for sun and sky.

"I haven't been here since I tr-tried to take over the castle," Flowey remarks.

"You did what now?" Chara asks.

Flowey tightens his coils a little. "R-right, uh, I th-thought I could, um, take the human souls and br-br-bring you back. I- I had loads of D-D-Determination, so I knew I c-c-couldn't d-die, but I took the souls and it- it wasn't enough. I g-got to the h-hall and, uh, S-S-S-"

"Sans," Frisk finishes, fingers hovering by Flowey's face. He extends a vine, threading it between their fingers.

"Well, I appreciate the attempt," Chara tells him as the teens begin to pick their way down the stone steps in search of a good spot. Despite the earlier silence of the city, the stands are filling up with monsters. Frisk waves to the Astigmatism from Mettaton's show and then to Knight Knight, who has to duck her head to keep it from scraping against the arch over the steps. The more they look, the more monsters they recognize. There's the rabbit from Grillby's bar, swaying in a decidedly hungover way as her friend the large-mouthed plant helps her find a seat. There's Kid and Lib and a group of rabbits who must be their adoptive family.

Brent gives a shout and a cat in the crowd screams as she sees him. Frisk recognizes her as the crossword cat from the library. She comes tearing through the crowd, pursued by the two massive Snowdin bears, to catch up the bear-cat in her arms and twirl him around. The bears ask excitedly about his job and if he's eating properly and if he's made friends and Brent's laughter is both exasperated and pleased. He had obviously missed them.

Over in a glassy pond are a group of creatures that reminded Frisk of Onion-San, gaily chattering as they watch the clamor in the stands. Aaron, half-submerged, winks at passerby, delighted when anyone winks back.

A group of Vulkins trot in circles around Shyren, who looks both frightened and delighted. Mettaton's receptionist flexes her fingers as she makes small talk with a Whimsalot. The green dragon with their arm around So Sorry looks like they must be his parent and their expression is so proud as they talk animatedly with Shyren's agent.

These are the people Frisk knows. These are the people Frisk loves.

Chara curls the fingers of Frisk's free hand, putting pressure into the palm to simulate holding their hand. Flowey taps his vine against the back of their other hand, watching their blank expression carefully.

"Hey." Frisk turns back to the steps. Ness looks up at them, his face creased with concern. "Aren't you coming?" Brent steps away from his fathers at the question. Bratty and Catty, the furthest down the steps, take a few steps back up to better hear Flowey answer.

Frisk looks at their hands, at their broken fingernails and cracked skin. They imagine those hands chalky-white with dust. The dust vanishes when they blink, but the outlines of their hands blur as their eyes burn. "I have to meet the king," they answer, and Flowey doesn't have to translate how nervous they are. This is going to be where everything ends.

There's a moment of silence in which everyone tries very hard to not think about the six who had come before. There's a snorting sound and they look up, startled, just before they're hit by a wall of fur and scales. Four pairs of hands hold them close. "Thank you," someone whispers, voice thick with emotion, and Frisk has to bury their face in the closest shoulder before the lump in their throat gets too big to swallow.

"Do- do you want us to come with you?" Ness asks when Frisk has the space to breathe again. Bratty and Catty clutch each other's hands. Brent puffs out his chest, but looks over his shoulder to where his family stands politely out of earshot.

As much as they want to say yes, Frisk shakes their head. They won't be alone. They have Flowey and Chara, the two people who have seen them through the whole journey. It wouldn't be right to bring someone else along. Besides, while the question was asked with the best of intentions, they can see how nervous the possibility of a "yes" makes the teens. They're tired. They likely just want to go sit with their families and listen to their king speak. Frisk understands that.

"I'll be fine," they say. And before anyone can say anything else, before they can think too hard about the appeal of just taking a break, they turn and march out of the amphitheatre.

"You're sure about this?" Chara says as the ocean roar of the crowd fades into the susurrus of a stream. Frisk clenches their fists and nods. The castle is before them. All they have to do is reach it.

The city streets are as quiet as the grave and they pass through like a wandering ghost. Each step is a sentence, each breath a weight to keep them grounded. They have never entered the castle from the front before. Always it had been that they entered through the back door, into the house rather than the castle. Now they shall be met first with the king and then the father.

A shaft of sun slices through the cavern ceiling and down onto the castle. Its light pours through the windows. In the throne room, they remember, there is no ceiling and the sunlight there coaxes the flowers into bloom. They don't want to go there if they don't have to. If they can find Toriel or if she should happen to find them, surely together they will explain to Asgore what has happened. Surely then they can find a way out of the Underground together.

If that is true, then why is Frisk so frightened?

Flowey's hold on their shoulders relaxes as they step into the castle's shadow. There is a path that leads to the door. They have only to walk down it. Then everything can end.

They walk. Then they run. Chara's hands reach for the door handles, only a little ways above Frisk's head, and Flowey helps them pull the great doors open.

"We're home!" Chara yells into the hall. "Mom! Dad!" Their voice doesn't reach beyond Frisk's head, but happiness rushes over them due to simply being able to say the words.

The castle is quieter than the city. When the great doors close behind them, it is silently that they do it, with no indication that they were ever open. All the outside noises shut off so suddenly that the silence assaults their ears. Frisk's mouth is dry.

The carpet that leads down the hall is grey and stiff. It muffles each of their footfalls. Chara doesn't remember there being a carpet here. They remember stone that allowed for the clacking of claws as Asriel chased them in games of tag, stone that was easily cleaned when they tracked mud in from the gardens. Things have changed here.

Flowey directs their attention to the walls. On one, there hangs a portrait of the royal family, but they don't look the way Frisk remembers. The Asgore in the picture has a short beard and in the picture, he is laughing. Toriel wears no spectacles and her expression is entirely contented, her eyes loving as she looks to the king. In her arms is a child, who looks curiously out of the painting. This must have been the family before Chara arrived. They have never seen Asgore and Toriel so happy. And the child in their arms, that must be Asriel. He looks so safe there.

"W-we were gonna have a n-new one p-painted with Ch-Ch- for Chara. Wh-when th-they l-l-looked m-more like themself, th-they said. R-remember, Ch-Chara?"

"Yes," Chara says softly. "And then I made that plan and everything just-" They spread their hands in a helpless gesture. Their eyes drift back up to the painting and their fingers twitch. Stepping closer, they reach up. Frisk is too short for their fingers to reach beyond the hem of Toriel's gown, but Chara touches it anyway. Frisk places their hand beside Chara's and Flowey sets a vine between them.

Chara smiles and there's a sudden trickle of tears. Laughing with Frisk's soundless mouth, they scrub it away and beam up at the portrait. "They'll have to make a new one with you, Frisk. We've adopted you. You're now a Dreemurr too. Nonnegotiable."

"Can I be both a Dreemurr and a Golightly?"

"A what?" Chara and Flowey ask in unison.

"Golightly," Frisk repeats, finger-spelling it a little slower. "My name's Frisk Golightly."

"Golightly-Dreemurr or Dreemurr-Golightly," Chara says thoughtfully. "Flowey, which one rolls easier off the tongue?"

Flowey's still considering when there's a noise down the hall. They look up as one, startled, and make eye contact with the massive and imposing King Under The Mountain.

His fur is noticeably matted. They notice the dents in his imperial armor, the broken claws of his feet, and his eyes are so bright that he looks almost sick. But a confused smile slips across his face as he looks down at them and Chara unconsciously reaches their arms up toward him before Frisk can take back their control.

Asgore draws nearer and Frisk takes a step back. His voice is a few notches too many away from reassuring as he says "Hello, little one. You are not meant to be here, are you?"

"I'm the human," they answer, raising their shoulder to nudge Flowey into action. But Flowey doesn't make a sound.

"You should return to your parents. They will likely be worried about your absence," the mountain king says, too quickly to be quite kind. His confused smile stretches oddly up one side of his snout.

"You're my parent!" Chara cries, rushing him and throwing their arms around his waist.

Asgore pries them free, looking down at them blankly. "I would take you to your parents myself, but I am waiting for my wife. She wanted silence as she edited the last of our speeches. We did not have much time to prepare, you see. The angel arrived so quickly."

"Dad, it's me!" Chara screams. Frisk shakes their head. They don't understand. Toriel must have told him. That was why she had come in the first place. Was this angel really so important that she had set everything aside for them?

Flowey makes a strangled noise and his vines twist tighter around Frisk's shoulders and neck as Asgore steps forward again. He doesn't match Chara's memories or Frisk's. There's something different, something wrong about his face. He looks hollow.

Without their realizing, Asgore has been herding them back to the great doors. They only realize when their back hits the doors and Asgore pushes one open. Then he pokes them through with the dull end of his trident. "Goodbye."

"Dad!" screams Chara as the doors close in their face. "Asriel, why didn't you say anything?"

"Wh-why d-d-d- why didn't you write anything d-down?" Flowey shoots back.

"Because you're the translator! Damn it, Asriel!" Chara pounds on the door with both fists, yanks on the handle as hard as they can, but it won't open again. They've failed.

"Hey! Get away from there!" They turn on the voice, Chara curling their lip in a sneer. Undyne, her visor flipped up, stands just behind them. Her expression and Chara's suddenly match in identical confusion. "Hey, punk, what're you doing over here?"

"Undyne!" Frisk cries.

She scoops them up as they run to hug her, saving them from what would have been, in hindsight, a fairly nasty collision with her armor. She shifts them to one hip, thumbing their nose fondly. "What're you doing here?" she asks, in the same instant Flowey asks "Wh-where's Alphys?"

Frisk nods. "Mads said Napstablook and Mettaton were coming, but-"

Undyne stops them with an exclamation. "Holy shit, Mads? They were with you? They straight up disappeared when the CORE went out. Thank the dog you found them. Blook was worried sick. Poor kid couldn't stop crying."

Flowey tilts his head, flopping his petals. "You m-mean, they d-didn't tell you they were coming?"

"Of course not! Asgore sent out the message after they disappeared."

Frisk's chest begins to hurt again, but this time it is prompted by worry. "I need to go do something," they say.

"Sure, kid." Undyne sets them back on their feet. "What is it?"

"Flowey just wants to look at the other flowers," they lie, hoping Alphys hasn't yet told her the true identity of the ornery flower.

They seem to be in luck. "Wants to see where he came from, huh? Cool. Stay out of the castle though, punk. I'll be keeping an eye on you." She stretches up to her tiptoes and slams a fist against the door so hard that they jump. "Yo, Dadsg- Asgore!"

They're obviously not going to get in that way so long as Undyne's there, so they slink around the side of the castle, wondering if the back door is still open. As much as they never again want to set foot in the judgement hall, the windows are too high up for them to safely crawl through and they can't see any other obvious points of entry.

The castle curves sharply and Frisk gasps at the sight that is revealed to them. Chara makes a strangled sound. Eight statues stand in a circle around a patch of golden flowers. Some reach their hands toward the sky, others sink toward the ground. Two in particular are so detailed that Frisk wonders if they might breathe. These are the only two who touch, their hands intertwined and their feet lifted as if they might step off their pedestals together and dance in the middle of the fairy ring. These are Asriel and Chara, versions of them Frisk has never seen, just like the portrait in the hall. Asriel has stubby horns extending off his head and his shoulders are broader than they are in Chara's imagination. He looks older here. And the Chara has short hair, although it's just as messy as it is in the mindspace, like they never let anyone close enough to receive a proper haircut. The only other statues with near the same amount of detail are the only others that look almost as old: a boy with a ribbon at his throat and a little girl with a bandanna binding her thick curls.

"Patience and Bravery," Flowey tells them. Frisk looks at him in surprise. He shrugs. "Th-they were here after Asriel and b-before me. I d-don't know their real names."

Frisk steps into the middle of the ring and the flowers rustle under their feet as they step up to the statue of Asriel and Chara. Once at the base, they look around the circle anew. Asriel, Chara, Patience, Bravery. There's a child with thick glasses standing to Bravery's left and on their left is a girl with a big smile on her face wearing an apron. Frisk recalls the glasses they had bought at Gerson's shop and the apron they'd worn through Hotland. Could the girl be Kindness? The one Brent had talked about?

To her left are two figures and neither of them have visible eyes. The one in a cowboy hat is slumped down on his pedestal and the dancer has sunken into a graceful curtsey. And when Frisk looks to the right of Asriel and Chara's statue, there is a final pedestal, this one empty. They look around the circle again, counting. Six humans. Six human souls. This pedestal must be the one that waits for them. It is with a strange fascination that they climb atop it and look around from their higher vantage point.

Only when they are standing on the pedestal left for them do they see another statue nearly hidden underneath the flowers. They slip off their perch and move around it, brushing aside petals with their hands. Pollen sticks to their fingers and smears on the stone of the small statue. It's a dog, laying on its stomach. Its chin rests on its forepaws and the carved eyes look solemn, staring back towards the castle. For some reason, its expression sends a peculiar chill up their spine. Their chest burns now, kindling what feels like the beginnings of a bonfire behind their breastbone. When they pull their soul from their chest, it feels as warm as sunlight, but slips into their hands as easily as silk. They see that it is the color of blazing coals. Chara's veins have coalesced within it, forming a smaller heart of a darker red. Their scars are almost completely gone. Like Chara has said, there seems to be nothing wrong with it. And still, something feels off.

They put their soul back in their chest as easily as if they are putting something back into their pocket and, on a whim, they flatten themself to the ground. Looking in the same direction as the little stone dog, they can see the place where the stone dips into the valley that holds the amphitheatre. As they watch, Undyne jogs away from the castle in that same direction. Her head is bowed, her helmet under one arm. Her hand comes up to touch her face, as if she's wiping away tears.

Asgore and Toriel follow her. And two smaller shapes follow them.

Slowly, Frisk turns to look at the stone dog. Its expression hasn't changed, it hasn't moved,but something about it says Go. The feeling in Frisk's chest burns brighter, eating away at their heart. It pulls them after the group, slower, quieter, allowing the king and queen and the smaller shapes to take the lead. They retrace their steps back through the city, watching the amphitheatre grow closer and closer. Something is about to happen here.

Undyne leads the royal couple and their guests into the amphitheatre and Frisk, still under the sway of the feeling in their chest, follows a few steps behind. They are at the front of the theatre now, and Asgore and Toriel ascend the stone steps up to a platform. They will address the nation from there while Frisk waits below. They glance across the pit, over the barrier that blocks them from the view of the audience, and think that for a moment, they can see a little white dog scamper past the seats. But that's impossible. They're too far away to see something that clearly.

The audience roars.