VOXISTALE: Season 1

by TheOneTrueComic

Once upon a time… A human fell underground. Beneath the surface, they made friends. Made enemies. Made mistakes. Made things right. After a long time, the human decided to stay, calling the underground home. The monsters, her family. One day, the underground was destroyed, but the monsters were able to escape, thanks to the human. For years, they have lived on the surface.

17. Forgotten Kingdom

Chara's "tough love" had been enough to spur Frisk to continue on… but she was still extremely nervous. Uncomfortable. Entirely uncertain if she'd even be accepted back. Chara wasn't wrong. In the past, thanks to the RESETs, Frisk had simply assumed her past transgressions were merely in the past. Sans somehow was aware of it all, even down to the last, grittiest detail. She had no idea how exactly, and he wasn't one to share secrets like that. Flowey, too, had some awareness yet not on the level of Sans. Now that everyone seemed to know, Flowey was probably privy to the little details now, too.

A "battle for supremacy over the timeline" is what Chara had referred to the flash of crimson light as. Two beings with a significant amount of Determination had just ripped time apart in pursuit of domination over the timeline. Frisk could only assume that the new timeline holder had been challenged in this way by Undyne going into her Undying form. A sharp reminder of the past, and an even more painful reminder that Undyne was dead. Determination melted monsters, and if they failed to persevere, they turned to dust. In the company Undyne had in her final moments, she doubted Undyne was currently living as an Amalgamate or something of the sort.

The forest opened into a great clearing, revealing ancient majesty long forgotten. She had stepped out of the thickett into a courtyard, an old water fountain adorning the center cracked in half. Mossy water sat in the two ends, though not much. Vines and overgrowth swamped the courtyard, and many stone walls had long since fallen apart. A chute rose up to her left, though the top half was missing, probably making up a lot of the stone bricks that littered the courtyard, barely visible through the foliage.

The broken walls led to more of the castle, revealing more of the same. This old structure barely even existed anymore, and was so deep in the forest that nobody even bothered to visit. No tourists, or explorers, though Frisk felt sure not many even knew this place existed. She'd never heard about the ruins of an entire castle so close to home.

She wasn't offered much time to marvel at the ruins. The courtyard and beyond were occupied by the group of surviving monsters and humans. Many eyes turned her way, and for most, that intense loathing lit their irises. Frisk could feel her throat tightening as her mouth went dry. Awkwardly, she stood there at the edge of the courtyard for a moment, her eyes timidly searching the sea of faces. She recognized every single one.

Finding her voice, Frisk cleared her throat, diverting her gaze from anyone in particular, an unintentional sign of submission, her body language expressing no desire for confrontation. "Does… anyone know where A-Asgore is?" She bit her lip at the end, annoyed at herself for stuttering. Nobody answered her, increasing her anxiety-that is until a familiar skeleton moved from the crowd toward Frisk, offering her a strange smile she didn't often see on his face. Strained, unsure, yet hopeful. The smile he always wore before she murdered him in timelines passed.

Papyrus extended a gloved hand toward her. "I DO." She had to commend the naive skeleton for his uncanny bravery and hopefulness. He was aware of the times she'd killed him now, betrayed his trust, yet even still he continued to believe in her. He truly was an unbreakable spirit of good.

An almost overwhelming sense of emotion washed over Frisk, and she felt an almost insatiable urge to hug her friend, incredibly thankful that he still had not given up on her. She stowed it for now, however, and instead accepted his hand.

Papyrus led her through the edges of the angry mob. When they passed the courtyard, they wandered down what appeared to be a small, very old town square. There was… barely anything. Frisk suddenly felt a strange reminder that humans were the reason this kingdom was abandoned and forgotten in the first place. She still failed to look anyone in the eye, at least until Sadie started to approach her. Frisk mouthed 'wait' toward the girl, who appeared unsure, but obeyed, not coming any closer.

Hundreds of refugees, hiding from the Messiah's wrath. The early morning sun cast lightly down upon them all, a cold dew clinging to the overgrowth that surrounded them. The air was still and freezing, but for some reason, Frisk didn't really notice right now, despite only wearing her usual sweater and jean shorts with tennis shoes.

Papyrus was strangely silent, though Frisk could understand why. She wasn't speaking either. She wasn't sure she could right now. The questions she was sure he wanted to ask… she hadn't decided on the answers yet.

After the town square came an ancient set of stairs that had long deteriorated away. Papyrus led her into the castle itself through a stone hallway, since the stairs were pointless to attempt climbing at this point.

Inside the tunnel, the foliage decreased in intensity, resigning itself to grass and a few vines, but nothing more. Several paths branched off, and to her surprise, a few torches lit the way. Thinking about it, however, it began to surprise her less. Asgore and his fire magic were probably responsible.

Down another branching, warmly lit tunnel, Papyrus led her up a flight of stairs into what was undoubtedly the throne room. Old tapestries hung from the walls, adorning blues and yellows, though mostly a faded, torn fabric. An ancient symbol had once sat upon those tapestries, but they had faded away into obscurity. A few vines climbed the walls, dirt, dust, and leaves littered the floor, but the throne room had remained relatively intact. The two thrones themselves sat side-by-side at the head of the room, a surprisingly intact red carpet leading to them, two more thrones, smaller in size, sitting further back beside the two thrones. For the King, Queen, and their two children, she assumed.

Asgore stood in the room, his back to her and Papyrus. He looked so out of place here with his pink Hawaiian button-up and faded blue jeans, alongside his absent crown. She could still recall when she'd first met him. The royal robes he wore, his golden armor flashing in the barrier's breath, the small crown adorning his head, and his incredibly sad facial features.

He was speaking to Alphys and Mettaton, the latter of which noticed Papyrus and Frisk entering His robotic features lit for a moment at sighting Papyrus, before souring as his eyes traveled to Frisk. "Thanks, Papyrus." Frisk smiled at her old friend, who looked back down at her with that unsure grin he was carrying. After a small moment, his expression softened. "OF COURSE, FRISK. JUST KNOW THAT NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, I'LL ALWAYS BE YOUR FRIEND." He offered her a thumbs up, and this time, she couldn't stop herself. Her arms wrapped around his body as her face pressed against his sternum, which was concealed beneath the dirty gray shirt he was wearing today.

Anybody could always count on Papyrus. He was truly too good for this cruel world. She felt his arms wrap around her, and could almost feel his skeletal grin become genuine. After a moment, she let go, quickly wiping at her eyes.

Papyrus watched as she made her way across the throne room toward the King. Toward her father. All those memories from the past, those thoughts she'd tried to bury deep, deep down… they were surging forth.

The memory of him offering a cup of tea. Confused on what she was. She'd become so corrupted by her power, that he couldn't even recognize if she was a human or monster at the time. The way his body shook with the blow she dealt. One single blow that destroyed the mighty King. The look of shock on his face. The way his eyes registered her face moments before he faded away. The word he spoke so softly under his breath before he was gone.

She shook her head, trying to clear the memory. Ultimately, she failed, the images clinging to her mind. Instead, she resorted to ignoring them. Mettaton by now had alerted Asgore to her presence, and now he, the robot, and Alphys were watching her approach.

Feeling somewhat awkward, Frisk came to a stop several feet in front of them. Just like for Papyrus, she felt the overwhelming urge to hug her adoptive father. She craved the comfort he could provide more than anything right now. She wanted to cry into his shoulder. Wanted this pain to go away… but it would not. That would just distract her as she tried to run from it like she always did. One way or another, this was going to happen. She couldn't run anymore. Chara was right.

"Dad…" Frisk began, but Mettaton was the next to speak. "I'm not even sure you're qualified to kneel before him." He spat. Something slugged Frisk's heart as she felt her throat tighten painfully. Asgore was the next to speak, his scarlet eyes casting a glare on the robot. "Leave us." His gaze shifted to Alphys with a softer look. "Both of you."

"But sire-" Mettaton began. The word seemed to annoy Asgore. "I am no longer your king." He replied bluntly. "Please. I need to speak with my child."

Mettaton glanced toward Alphys, who was silently trying to urge Mettaton out of the room, her eyes red and puffy. Realizing he was alone here in the 'hate Frisk boat', he resigned himself with a sigh, and marched out of the room, Alphys tailing along, Papyrus going with them.

Frisk felt her jaw quiver. She willed it to stop. "Dad…" She began again, but what happened next surprised her. He fell to his knees, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I was so worried."

His shoulders shook. It took her a moment to realize he was sobbing. His grip was comforting. It was fatherly, loving, and relieved. Upon this realization, Frisk wasted no time in returning the hug, her hands barely even reaching his back, he was so large. "I thought I'd lost you…" Asgore continued. "Thought perhaps you'd… g-gone to the Messiah a-and…"

Silent tears ran down Frisk's face. She'd expected to be sobbing back by now, and yet, all she could do was begin patting her hand against him in a subconscious effort to soothe her father. "I'm here." She assured quietly.

They remained like this for some time as his weeping subsided. He held onto her as though he feared she may melt through his arms. Finally he let go, wiping at his face, offering her a warm smile. She truly hadn't expected this. He was aware of it all, wasn't he? What wasn't surprising was the fact that he addressed her thoughts. He sometimes made a habit of doing that.

"I'm sure you're surprised I'm… being kind to you." He told her. She could only nod in agreement to that. Now, Asgore averted his gaze for a moment. "I've been… aware of timelines since my youth." He explained. "Every Dreemurr is taught about it. Our weapons are made out of pure Determination, not monster magic. Those with your unique SOUL have always been tied to my family. I've always known of the power you control, or... controlled."

This was… a bit to take in all at once. So Asgore knew all along about her timeline abilities? He had always known what her SOUL was capable of. "Did… you know this wasn't the original timeline?" She asked. Asgore gave a slight nod of his head. "I assumed as much. You were skilled with your SOUL. You understood it. I told myself long ago that I would not judge those timelines, even if I learned what they were. That I would judge you for the woman you become. Now I know. My opinion of you has not changed."

The smile he offered her now wasn't quite as warm, instead with a heavy sadness clinging to it. "Your sins may be greater than mine, but you learned. You worked toward redemption within yourself. I envy that chance. Those SOULs I collected… it is a secret I can hardly bear to keep, yet there's no telling how humanity would react to the news. That I had murdered six human children in cold blood." He paused, glancing past Frisk toward the exit of the throne room. "I… suppose seeing how they have reacted to the knowledge of your past timelines… I should expect something similar. Or perhaps better. Possibly worse. Frisk, my child, you're far braver than I. You returned to us, despite what they now know."

Frisk hadn't thought about that. Despite her acts being far worse than his, they were still technically in the same boat. Haunted by their past sins of murder. Difference was, he had done so for a purpose. To break the barrier. To save his people… even if he did falter in the end. Her reasoning had been purely selfish. She had killed indiscriminately just to see what would happen. She had murdered her friends and family a thousand times over. A part of her had even enjoyed it… not that she would ever admit that to anyone. Not even Flowey. Not even Chara, though the spirit girl was probably aware.

Regaining her composure, Frisk straightened herself. "I came back to protect everyone." She stated. "Just because they hate me now doesn't mean they're still not my responsibility." Asgore creased his brow. "My child, that is noble of you, but they are not your responsibility."

"They still view you as their king." Frisk asserted. "In a sense… that makes me a princess. Of sorts." She shrugged. Asgore stared at her for a moment, before shrugging his brows. "Well. When you put it like that I suppose I cannot deter you from the duties you're so keen on having."

This time, she gave him a smile. There had always been a hint of grief to her smiles before, and now, he certainly knew why. "The Messiah are still coming. Whatever happened in the past timelines can wait to be addressed. At least until we're certain everyone is safe."

Asgore agreed wholeheartedly with this as he and his adoptive daughter devised a short speech to deliver to the people. The hundreds lingering around outside, or in the rare interiors lit by torch, attempting to stay warm.

One set of doors led unto that staircase outside. While either end was unclimbable, the platform at their head remained intact. Enough so that father and daughter could venture out and call together the survivors.

When everyone had gathered, Frisk could feel the eyes of burning hatred bore into her own soul. That same part of her wanted to curl up and hide. Or to run away and never look back. But the other side of her willed her to stay, urged on by Chara's whispers in the back of her mind.

"My people. My friends, supporters, allies… we are all here because we value our survival. Our way of life. And one another." Asgore began. "We are here to flee from the judgement and the pain delivered unto us by The Messiah. They will find us here. They will never stop their pursuit. This does not mean we are without hope. Beneath this kingdom sits old tunnels, dug by our ancestors. Weapons, traps, armor… all lie within. We will defend this place. No longer shall we run. We stand together, no matter what."

"You expect us to stand with that murderer?" A voice barked out from the crowd. Frisk's eyes landed on Doggo, who was glaring a few feet to Frisk's left. She shifted on her feet, and his eyes attached to her. The ability to only see things that move must have been difficult for him, and the last time she'd spoken with him, he'd requested some treats, which she had delivered. They'd been friends just yesterday.

"I do." Asgore asserted. "The memories you recall are all fictional." At this, Frisk turned her head so fast to look at Asgore, she felt her neck pop painfully. Probably best not to do that again, but that wasn't her main concern. The conversation she'd just had with Asgore had established that he was aware of how real those timelines had been. He was… lying to them? On her behalf?

"I know not why these memories have been planted in our minds, but I have reason to believe it may be a psychological attack from the Messiah. We underestimated their power before. They may well have a powerful psychic among them now."

Nobody spoke against this. Coming from Asgore, and with how reasonable and sure his words sounded, it was clear that the monsters probably didn't hate Frisk. At least, not fully. Those hateful memories had simply overpowered their good ones. They hadn't been sure what to think.

"I am certain that these false memories have been planted in an attempt to separate Frisk from us. She harmed their most dangerous agent. They clearly fear her power, and her aid for us." Asgore continued, his voice beginning to rise. "Very soon, we will give them more reason to fear. Not just my daughter, but monsterkind, and all our allies. We will defend ourselves and our livelihood. We will not back down. We belong in this world just as much as anyone else. If they wish to extinguish us, the least we can do is make them work for it. Yet even then! We shall not fall!" Asgore's arm rose into the air. The crowd was beginning to cheer.

Frisk had never been there when Asgore declared war on humanity after Asriel and Chara's deaths, but Toriel had described it once before. Asgore's commanding voice. His assertion. His boldness. His words targeted the emotions of those around him, bringing them to follow his cause. Of course, it hadn't worked for Toriel, and seeing Asgore doing this in his pink Hawaiian shirt was somewhat funny, but the crowd was getting riled up. Clearly they loved and trusted their king. A love that may have been somewhat misplaced… he had lied to them about Frisk, but it had been a clever tactic. He had pinned those timelines of abuse on the Messiah. He had convinced the monsters that their hatred should be solely on the Messiah. All of the blame had been taken off of her and… it didn't feel right. It felt so similar to a Reset, making people forget her faults and her sins. This wasn't why she had come back, but… this wasn't something she should attempt to undo, either. The Messiah truly was the greatest threat at the moment, and putting everyone's focus on them…

She had escaped penance once again, and this time, she hadn't even been trying to.

Frisk followed Asgore back inside of the throne room as the crowd outside cheered, before talking excitedly amongst themselves. Asgore had detailed a plan to take a few 'warriors' he called them, into the tunnels beneath the Kingdom of Hopes, then left the crowd to decide these select few warriors among themselves.

Once they were alone, Frisk moved quickly in front of her father. "Why did you lie to them?"

She knew the answer, but still… she needed to hear it from him. "Was it a lie?" Asgore asked, his gaze somewhat stern, though softening as he stared back into her eyes. "Frisk, my child, those timelines are not true to ours. They are a series of 'what ifs'. They may have happened in another timeline, but not in our own. In the life we currently live, your hands are clean. The memories may linger, but the act does not. It is better to focus their efforts on our true enemy, and… to ensure that you are not cast out. I cannot afford to lose another child. I…" His voice broke. "I can't afford to lose anyone else I love. You are all I have left, my child."

Her gaze fell to the floor. So his reasoning, as were many of his, was of a personal sort. One could even say selfish. It was the truth, though. He had long since come to terms with the loss of Asriel and Chara. He had lost Toriel twice, first in marriage, then in life. His protégé, Undyne, was gone. Frisk really was the only person close to him left. Maybe aside from Alphys, though their relationship had always seemed professional, even if Alphys used to crush hard on him. Not to mention Gerson, though the turtle had mentioned more than once that the two had a falling out centuries ago.

Still… she should have realized sooner that his lie had been just as selfish as it had for the betterment of others. He had a track record for this sort of thing.

"One day, I need to repent for what I've done." Frisk stated slowly after a few moments of silence, her voice quiet. Asgore stared back at her for a moment, before he too dropped his gaze. "Indeed." He agreed. "I as well. I am sorry for not consulting you first, but… I'm sure you understand."

"I do." Frisk nodded. "Let's worry about this later, I guess. You said it yourself, the Messiah are still coming. We need to be prepared."

---

The hateful glares subsided. There were a few she could catch, but those people would look away. Those unlocked memories lingered, and Asgore's speech wasn't enough to make anybody simply forget, even if they now believed those memories to be fake. The 'warriors' that had gathered to follow Asgore into the depths of the kingdom and recover anything that could aid their defense were nine individuals, not including Asgore, nor Frisk, as she was going to be going regardless if she was told she could or couldn't.

Papyrus had designated himself as team co-leader beside Asgore, and with him was Sadie, Rian, and Fuku, all four of whom Frisk had been expecting. Then there was Dogamy and Dogaressa, and they seemed to be leaving their puppies under the care of Doggo, Lesser Dog, and Greater Dog. Dogamy and Dogaressa had had their litter a couple years ago. Six puppy monsters who were growing fast. The circles under their parents' eyes was enough to indicate that Dogamy and Dogaressa were in need of a break. Raising rowdy puppies was probably a lot harder than fighting the Messiah or exploring abandoned tunnels.

Then there was Muffet, though her reasons for joining mostly had to do with 'making sure no spiders are harmed', which made enough sense. Abandoned tunnels were notorious for housing spiders. The final two were Mettaton (who mentioned needing more opportunities to get his joints in working order) and Napstablook (only at the urging of his cousin).

Magnum and Mosu declined to join, mentioning the surface needed to be guarded. Gregory used the same excuse. Truck wanted to join, but Alphys had requested his help, since Mettaton and Papyrus were already leaving.

Eleven individuals total. A king, a skeleton, a ghost, a robot, a spider, a fire person, two dogs, and three humans. It was almost like the set-up for a long-winded joke on a George Carlin routine. Frisk could remember her parents really enjoyed stand-up comedy, especially George Carlin. She'd never much cared about what her parents liked anyway, they'd been awful and neglectful.

Asgore led their group back into the throne room, and toward a door mostly hidden behind the thrones. Frisk was surprised she hadn't noticed it before, it was a fairly large archway that led down a set of stairs into inky blackness, though the thrones themselves were massive. Asgore-sized. She wasn't certain that this had been Asgore's kingdom though, unless perhaps he'd been young enough at the time to be seated in one of the Prince chairs, and his own parents had been seated at the larger thrones.

Into the darkness they descended, Asgore lighting torches clinging to the walls along the way with his fire magic. That fire could only extinguish if he willed them away, or perished. Thankfully, his fire produced heat, and the air breathing through these tunnels seemed to be channeling that magical heat, warming up the cold tunnels beneath the land.

Frisk found Sadie walking beside her as they descended. They were in the back of the group, Rian and Fuku directly in front of them, and the others further down. "So what was that whole 'hate Frisk' thing about?" Sadie asked Frisk in a quiet tone. She opened her mouth to reply, before pausing. "Uh… just something the Messiah did, I guess." She replied, and could hear Chara scoff in the back of her mind.

"Oh." Sadie appeared unimpressed. "You ran off when it happened." She reminded. Frisk nodded. "Yeah, I uh… got the memories too. It… uh… freaked me out and… can we talk about something else?" Sadie mistook Frisk's hesitation for being unsettled by the 'implanted' memories, though in truth she just didn't want to keep the lie going and enforcing it so, but right now she couldn't go about undoing Asgore's words. Not until the threat had passed.

"Sure." Sadie agreed. "We haven't talked a ton since I got back. After… yeah. Think Terrence is… you know?" Frisk felt her stomach tighten. "Maybe another topic would be a better replacement." She offered quietly. This didn't seem to sit well with Sadie, who huffed. "Like what?" She asked, voice a little louder. "What's there to talk about that isn't awful, Frisk? This place might be our own tomb if we're making a final stand here. Terrence and Grillby are dead for all we know, not to mention everyone else. Skeeter, both our moms… what are you expecting me to talk about?"

Rian and Fuku had glanced back at this, but didn't intrude. Frisk bowed her head slightly. She wasn't wrong… there really wasn't anything decent to talk about, unless they just wanted to make small talk and discuss… the weather, or something. "Sorry. We can be quiet and not talk at all." Frisk offered. Sadie shoved her hands into the pockets of the coat she wore, which Frisk recognized as her own, but didn't bother to bring that up. "Fine." Sadie replied. "All anyone ever is anymore is quiet."

"Then how about we talk about what we're doing right now." Rian offered, now intruding on the conversation which had already ended. "Waiting to die?" Sadie asked. "Yes." Rian agreed, before he frowned and shook his head. "I mean no. We're basically going treasure hunting, right? What kinda treasure do you think we'll find?"

Sadie seemed hesitant on the topic, no doubt still desiring to brood. "Weapons. Armor." Frisk replied with a shrug. "I think we'll find some ancient artifact." Rian grinned. "You ever seen Raiders of the Lost Ark?"

"No." Fuku replied, now entering the conversation as well. Rian grinned brightly at this, enough to make Frisk and Sadie give each other a slight, knowing smirk. Rian could yammer his jaw off about things like that. Frisk knew about the movie starring Harrison Ford, Sadie undoubtedly did. She was well-versed in the art of Rian's passion for old movies.

The staircase eventually ended, turning into a wide empty tunnel that they traveled down, multiple tunnels branching off. It started to feel like the tombs of ancient Egyptians; it was so vast and maze-like. Rian explained everything about Raiders of the Lost Ark to Fuku on their way down, and she listened attentively. Frisk could have pitched in more if they discussed Die Hard. That movie was unbreakable.

Eventually, however, the group came to a stop. The path ahead was blocked off, the ceiling having caved in, rubble completely obscuring their path. Mettaton offered to blast it away, but this was rejected by Asgore, who made it clear that clearing the debris could cause more of the tunnel collapse. Everyone needed to be cautious. Avoid causing any more cave-ins. According to the king, the armory was further down this hall, now blocked off from them. Muffet suggested splitting up. Asgore was hesitant, but considering this wasn't a horror movie, he agreed.

They split into four groups. Sadie, Rian, and Fuku went down one of the four branching halls. Mettaton, Papyrus, and Napstablook went down the second, Dogaressa, Dogamy, and Muffet down the third, leaving Frisk with her father to go down the fourth.

Mettaton's chest opened up, and out floated a Miniton, a small version of Mettaton's box form, which he proceeded to plant on the spot so that people would know where the main hall was. Asgore then offered Muffet a magically lit torch to mark the way as they went. Mettaton's systems would lead his group, the torch Muffet's, Fuku's fire hers, and Asgore obviously with his own fire.

The new tunnel was very much the same as the previous. Same cracked, dusty stone and ancient cobwebs clinging to the corners. "Was this your kingdom?" Frisk finally decided to ask. Asgore lit another torch as they moved. "For a short time." He admitted. "When the war began, my kingdom was the first to fall under the might of my enemy. The Kingdom of Dreams. We were forced to flee, took refuge here at the Kingdom of Hopes, the ancestral home of Toriel. They had already suffered an attack, their leadership murdered. Toriel and I assumed control, and pushed back. All of the other monster kingdoms began to join us. This place was meant to be our final stand, but we fled again. The humans had gathered their strength as well. We stood no chance." Asgore told this tale as they moved, the hall stretching on- before he stopped. She too stopped to find he was staring at an old, crumbling painting on the wall.

"What is it?" Frisk asked. The painting was barely intelligible in art, let alone the old dialect used on it that she didn't even understand. Asgore clearly did as his eyes scanned over it. "Hm. So this is where it is." He murmured, before glancing at Frisk. "I never explored the tunnels much. The armory was a straight shot and we had a war going on. I had no reason to. Toriel had mentioned to me a mural detailing her family lineage was painted somewhere down here. After all these years…" A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "She was burned off." He commented, pointing to a set of charred frames at the bottom of the mural. "Her parents rejected the throne, moved to the countryside to live humble lives. Took her with them. All three were 'removed' from the mural."

The other portraits were small, detailing the faces of dozens of other goat monsters that had hailed from Toriel's ancient bloodline. At the top was the word 'Hofferiss'. Toriel's last name. "In English, it means Hoperiss'." Asgore explained. "Hoperiss and Dreemurr were the highest rates of royal monsters. There were hundreds of others to keep our bloodlines pure and untainted like many human royalties had failed to do. The first of her rate…" His massive finger pointed to the portraits of two individuals beneath the name 'Hofferiss'. "was a monster nobody remembers the name of. He was referred to as the 'Lord of Generals'. Tales told he fought the almighty Orion Dreemurr, and nearly won in a great civil war before his untimely demise, but Orion allowed his lineage to carry on out of respect for his greatest opponent."

These were tales Frisk had never heard, and she started to realize that she wished Asgore told them more often. Monster history was something she'd have loved to know more about. His eyes lingered on the mural, searching every face and name that he could make out on its old surface.

"Maybe we can come back another time." She offered. "We still need to find that armory." Asgore's eyes lingered on the mural for a moment longer, before he nodded. "Yes, of course." He agreed, and they continued on. The hall they wandered down eventually split into two directions. Left and right. Asgore suggested that the right seemed more likely to lead to the armory, as the left would surely meet with Fuku's group. Frisk agreed, and they both marched on to the right, passing several more murals along the way. Some depicting long forgotten wars or battles, or royal figures, some showed perhaps mythological figures. Asgore seemed to recognize all of these, whereas Frisk was clueless.

"That was Andromaeus." Asgore pointed to a mural depicting a rather thin goat monster wearing what seemed to be a helmet not too dissimilar from the Trojans. Despite the monster's thinness, he was holding a strange creature by its throat that was easily three times his width, crushing its windpipe in his grip. It had tentacles whipping about its massive jet-black body, with bulging, angry green eyes, two arms clawing helplessly at the monster that held it.

"Andromaeus was the brother of Andromeda." Asgore explained. "That made him a brother-in-law to Orion Dreemurr, as his sister was married to Orion." Frisk stared at the mural a moment longer as they passed. So many stories and tales down here, roughly preserved for so long. "Is Orion a mythological character?" Frisk asked after a moment. She wasn't very certain if he was, considering the times he was spoken of that she could remember, Orion was sometimes referred to as a living being who had once existed, and other times, as something akin to a God for monsters, not that different from Zeus.

"He existed." Asgore confirmed. "Well… I believe he did, at least. Outside of tales, there is not much about his life to confirm he was real. He is revered as the Father of Monsterkind, even a God for us. His wife, siblings, and equals viewed as a part of that. Most of that is probably tall tales, but I do know he was the first Dreemurr. My direct ancestor. He died over three thousand years ago if the stories are accurate."

"You should tell me more stories about monster history." Frisk advised. "I like it." Asgore looked back at her with a smile. "I should do that, shouldn't I?"

Eventually, the path split again. Left, forward, and right. They paused at the intersection for several moments as Asgore stared down the path to his right. "This one will lead back to the main hall, I'm sure. But… hm… Frisk, my child." He took another torch from the wall to light it. "Inspect down to the main hall while I see if the hall going forward leads anywhere."

"You sure?" Frisk asked. "Not entirely." Asgore admitted. "But the main hall is built sturdier than adjacent ones." With that, they parted ways with plans to meet back up soon. This hall had fewer murals, or at least ones she could inspect. Most had faded away, barely remaining on the wall. The hall eventually opened up into the main hall, another branching ahead of her. She began to light the torches down back in the direction of the rubble, eventually reaching it, confirming this was indeed the main hallway. She was about to move on, before something caught her eye. Or rather, someone.

Chara was leaning against the wall to her left, staring back at the living girl, her arms crossed over her chest. Frisk stared back for a moment, before she turned away and began to walk back down the hall. "You can't keep hiding it from them." Chara said behind her. Frisk shook her head. "I'm not. In case you hadn't noticed, we're kind of in the middle of something."

"You're cowering behind convenience and excuses." The spirit stated, now walking calmly beside Frisk as she headed back toward her rendezvous point with Asgore. "Taking advantage of the opportunity your father provided."

"He's your father too." Frisk replied quickly, beginning to feel annoyed at Chara's presence, who didn't back down. "Once, perhaps." The spirit continued. "Don't try and ignore the truth, Frisk."

"We made our deals a long time ago." Frisk hastily stated. "I don't need any more of your advice."

"How long ago?" Chara tilted her head to the side, her tone mocking. "You're not going to try and use the new excuse for the timelines, are you? Did our deals ever happen?" Frisk scowled at this. She wasn't entirely sure why she was so annoyed… perhaps it was the truth to Chara's words. She was good at telling things as they were without any sort of filter. Sometimes useful. Other times… agitating.

"Can't you bug someone else?" Frisk asked. The comment was rhetorical, she knew Chara couldn't, but the spirit answered all the same. "I cannot, even despite the one with Determination growing in power."

That was something Chara hadn't alerted Frisk to. The fact that whoever was out there killing had struck again, increasing their LOVE. If Undyne's own Determination had been powerful enough to try and tug control from the current timeline holder, and if the current timeline holder wasn't the one doing the killing, then whoever was gaining LOVE could even begin to wrestle for control of the timeline. Another rip in time could occur as the timeline was tugged this way and that in a struggle for dominance. Possibly worse things could happen than unlocked memories.

"You didn't mention that before." Frisk stated. "You failed to ask." Chara shot back coolly. "I am not going to simply deliver you exposition all the time. I'm a person too, regardless of my current… 'status'."

Frisk moved left down the hall she'd come from, wandering on further to the meeting point. Asgore might be there, or may take a while to reunite with her. In case of the latter, Chara would remain to keep 'company'. It was somewhat weird, seeing Chara consistently 'good', objectively. She knew why, as there was no LOVE corrupting her spirit in this timeline, yet. Still, though, she wasn't sure if she preferred evil Chara or good Chara at this point.

They- no, she, arrived at the intersection. No Asgore waited for them- her. For some reason, her annoyance at Chara's spirit increased. Enough so that the girl must have sensed it, as she had disappeared when Frisk turned her head to look at her again. Chara usually appeared like a shadow to Frisk, but this time… she seemed almost corporeal in that moment.

Alone, Frisk slumped against one of the stone walls before sliding down. Already, she was beginning to feel a little lonely. Chara's presence really wasn't all that bad.

She didn't reappear, and Frisk found herself staring down the hall Asgore had traveled. These tunnels were somewhat like a maze. Clearly there was a sense of simplicity to them, but there were just so many branch-offs, and if that part of the tunnel back there had caved, who knew how many other dead ends there were.

Some time passed, before she could hear a trousle of bones marching her way, echoing along through the dark tunnel neither she nor Asgore had gone to. A light soon appeared, and Papyrus emerged from a turn down the tunnel, carrying a torch. He was a distant speck, but she could tell that he had arrived at another crossroad. These tunnels were massive, apparently.

Seeing the light coming from her end, Papyrus began to jog her way. Frisk rose back to her feet, staring down the tunnel ahead, but still saw no sight of Asgore. Soon enough, Papyrus reached her intersection, huffing and puffing. She'd learned not to question how a magical skeleton could run out of breath.

"THANK GOD I FOUND YOU!" Papyrus exclaimed. For some reason, this was cause for Frisk to frown. She usually didn't pay attention to words like that, but Papyrus had said 'God', whereas most monsters would use 'Orion' in that place. Rarely did monsters say 'God', though she'd never heard Papyrus use 'Orion' once. She wasn't sure why that suddenly caught her attention, but now she couldn't ignore it.

"Where's Mettaton and Napstablook?" She asked. Papyrus merely shrugged his shoulders. "I DON'T KNOW. WE SPLIT UP A WHILE BACK AND I'VE JUST BEEN WANDERING TUNNELS. WHERE'S ASGORE?"

"We split up too." Frisk replied, pointing down the tunnel ahead. "He went that way."

"WANT TO CATCH UP WITH HIM?" Papyrus asked. Frisk glanced down the hall Papyrus had come from, then down the tunnel to the main hall. Making up her mind, the girl shrugged. "Sure, why not."

The hall Asgore had gone down extended to yet another intersection, this one only moving forward and left. Neither way was lit. The trail ended, as it seemed Asgore had continued on in the dark. This left Frisk perplexed, Papyrus suffering the same plague of confusion. "HOW ODD. PERHAPS HE FORGOT HE CAN MAKE FIRE?"

Frisk didn't reply as she narrowed her eyes down the forward facing tunnel, then down the left. Asgore's destination had been the armory, so going forward seemed more likely, as it ran adjacent to the main hall. Papyrus still carried his torch, Frisk wasn't sure what she'd done with hers, she hadn't really been paying attention to that. She directed them down the forward hall, more murals donning the walls on either side, explaining the undoubtedly rich history of monsterkind. Still, she could not read the Germanic dialect. Despite having lived in Germany her entire life, she only knew English. Voxis City was an American city, despite its advertisement as a 'multinational city'. Some stuff about the Polar War back in the 1960's she didn't much care to think about at the moment. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Another intersection befell the pair, and Frisk could feel a rising frustration. Papyrus seemed far more optimistic. "FORWARD AGAIN?" He asked. The human glanced at him for a moment- and slashed with her knife.

A croak escaped the skeleton as his body stumbled back from her attack, and his severed head dropped to the ground, wincing.

"FRISK?"

She blinked, staring at the ground. No head. Her gaze rose back up to Papyrus, who was staring at her in concern. "Y-yeah." She nodded quickly, noticing Chara standing in the hall they'd just come from, her crimson eyes boring into Frisk's.

She ignored the spirit, as well as the vision, and pressed onward. Chara was just trying to screw with her, and she wasn't about to take it.

"Come on, he can't be too far ahead now." Frisk urged Papyrus, though she was speaking out of her ass with that one. She had no idea where Asgore was, and she was already weirded out by the fact that he hadn't lit any other passageways.

No more intersections came up. It was just a continuous, long hall that seemed to stretch forever. Frisk began to get worried about this, realizing this tunnel could very well lead back to Voxis City. She was snapped from her thoughts by the cracking of stone. She and Papyrus had just passed over a patch of what seemed to be loose stone, and cracks began to spider-web along the ground.

"UH OH." Papyrus stated. Frisk had to agree. That wasn't good, but it was time they headed back anyway, the firelight revealed the end of the passage ahead. This whole area seemed to be a dead end- until she did a double take on the wall.

It wasn't a flat surface, made of a black substance. It took her a few moments to recognize what it was. Obsidian, black and shiny, reflecting the fire's glow like glass. What was obsidian doing…

"Papyrus." She said, forgetting about their situation with the floor for a moment. "That's obsidian- er, rapidly cooled magma." She pointed to the ebony wall. The skeleton cocked his head to the side. "ER, OKAY THEN. IS IT DANGEROUS?"

"If it has jagged edges I guess, but that's not the point." Frisk replied. "I'm pretty sure the nearest magma to form this would be from Mt. Ebott. Which means this tunnel used to lead underground."

It was a stretch, and yet she felt confident in her theory. Papyrus quickly grasped this, and frowned. "REALLY? WE HAD A WAY OUT OF THE UNDERGROUND THE WHOLE TIME?"

"I- maybe." The human shrugged. "It's a theory, but-" She wasn't allowed to finish her sentence as the ground beneath the both of them suddenly crumbled away with a crack. Instinctively, Frisk swung her arm forward to grab hold of something, lunging forward as she began to descend. Big mistake, as her hand ran against the closest of the obsidian, and a violent stinging sensation erupted from her palm as warm liquid began to squirt out. Frisk didn't even have time to register this, as the inky void beneath her and Papyrus swallowed them whole.

---

The flutter of her eyelids signified her awakening. The hole above streamed a warm light upon her. Frisk looked about to find… golden flowers. However, just as quickly as she'd seen them, it all disappeared. The flowers, the light, all that remained was a cold, empty darkness that surrounded her. It took her a fair few moments to recognize that this wasn't her end. Usually she'd be faced with the choice to CONTINUE or to RESET. They'd appear regardless if she was in control or not, but since they didn't, and since her hand felt like it was on fire…

Frisk summoned her SOUL. Its vibrant red glow illuminated her surroundings, and she could find she was lying in a pile of rubble, two stone walls on either side of her. Another hallway going in two directions. No torches sat around the walls to be lit, and the stone themselves were barren, outside of cracked, deluded surfaces.

A look up confirmed a distant warm glow, barely noticeable. It had been a long fall, yet she was still alive, and somewhat fine.

Now she looked down at her hand, and to her horror, she released the obsidian had cut clean through her palm and out the back of her hand. Blood was still pouring out of it, and only now did she register how weak she felt. Thinking quickly, Frisk grabbed her sleeve with her good hand, and tugged.

Nothing happened. The movies made tugging off sleeves look a lot easier. She tried again, to no avail, before letting out an annoyed grunt and summoned a scarlet knife that she proceeded to use and dismantle the sleeve. Once off, she paused… and her eyes traveled to the knife. It sat so comfortably there, it simply felt so… right.

It disappeared, and Frisk used her dismembered sleeve to wrap as tightly around her wound as she could, finishing with the best knot she could make, admittedly a very sloppy one, but it would hold nonetheless. To finish out her medical work, her bad hand began to glow a shade of scarlet that enveloped her bandage-sleeve. Due to the physical nature of her wound, it wouldn't heal much, but enough to hopefully stop bleeding for a bit.

With that out of the way, she could now feel the pain in her back, as well as the back of her skull. A brief touch of her hand there pulled back blood. This little expedition into the depths of an ancient monster kingdom had turned from exciting to boring and tedious now to perilous.

Her next thoughts were of Papyrus. She looked around to find he was slumped against a nearby wall, seemingly resting. Slowly, the girl tried to climb to her feet. Her body ached, but fortunately, nothing seemed broken. She was just incredibly sore. That fall could have gone a lot worse.

"Papyrus?" She called. Her voice was hoarse. Some water would really go a long way right about now…

The skeleton slowly lifted his head. One of his eyes was closed, and he seemed extremely weak. Ignoring her wounds acting up, she quickly made her way to his side, brow creased in worry. "Are you alright?" She asked, looking him over. No broken bones that she could see…

"Y-YES." He confirmed, his voice slightly quieter than usual. "JUST… TIRED… I WASN'T SURE IT W-WORKED…"

"What worked?" Frisk asked, looking into his empty eye sockets. "Y-YOUR HEAD WAS… BLEEDING A LOT, AND… YOU WEREN'T B-BREATHING…" He replied. "I USED A LOT OF MAGIC TRYING TO HEAL YOU. I'M JUST… TALKING A LITTLE BREAK… D-DON'T TELL SANS, OKAY? HE'D… NEVER LET ME FORGET THAT I HAD A L-LAZY MOMENT…" Papyrus gave a weak chuckle, trying to smile confidently at Frisk.

To go this excessive with his magic… Frisk had never seen him so exhausted in any of her timelines. He'd exerted a LOT into healing her…

Had it really been that bad? Had she been so close to death's door, possibly staring through an open entryway? Imagine that. One simple, stupid fall. Without Papyrus, no doubt she'd have died down here. Out with a whimper. Her heart beat so quickly against her chest as she understood how close to dying she'd just been. No more resets. No more coming back. One life was all she had now, and it had nearly ended so anticlimactically.

"Thanks, Paps." Frisk breathed. "Are you okay?"

He gave a weak nod, which was interrupted by a few coughs. "HEALTHY LIKE A WHISTLE."

She couldn't help but giggle at his words. "It's 'healthy like a horse', Papyrus." She smiled at him. He smiled exhaustedly back. "OH… YEAH… THAT'S RIGHT."

The human helped Papyrus to his feet, draping one of his arms around her shoulder-though once he was on his feet, this proved useless, as he stood nearly two feet taller than her. He assured her he could walk on his own, and leaned against the wall for support. Frisk was already beginning to feel better as they set down one direction of the hall, hoping they'd stumble across an exit. Several murals appeared as they walked this seemingly endless tunnel, all in the same Germanic dialect, though these murals appeared to stand the test of time. While the walls, floor, and ceiling around them crumbled, these depictions seemed brand new, and she also took note that all were on the right side of the hall. None appeared on the left.

The first showed a being appearing somewhat like Asgore, no doubt an ancestral Dreemurr. His face was scarred, and shadowed by a great mane of thick white hair. His horns twisted into wicked spirals, and his eyes were colored a burning scarlet. Frisk felt as though he were staring into her very SOUL. Massive black robes swirled about his impressive form, and a single weapon was held in his hand. The crimson trident, something Asgore too used. Before the monster sat what appeared to be Earth as a globe. She was actually kind of surprised that ancient cultures were aware of the Earth's globe-like appearance. Or at least spherical. How far back did this date?

A strange golden 'L' seemed to have been carved into the monster's chest. It was curved, with an awkward loop that slashed into it. Clearly the letter of another culture, and she didn't get the feeling it was German.

Text sat beneath the mural, which she could recognize was German, though she wasn't fluent in it.

"Der große Orion

In seiner Macht

Er hat unsere Welt geschmiedet"

One word stuck out. 'Orion'. Her gaze lifted back up to the monster's eyes. She didn't know for certain, but a part of her understood. This was Orion Dreemurr. The 'first monster'. Their 'God', so to speak. Papyrus paused to inspect it with her. When asked, he confirmed he didn't know how to read German. Monsterkind had undergone a culture change around the early 1900's when British, American, and undoubtedly Japanese culture seeped its way in through the garbage that fell endlessly within (considering all of Alphys' anime). Papyrus had probably grown up in an environment that was fairly centered around American content.

They continued, passing a few more murals along the way.

One depicted another strange creature like from that before of Andromaeus, who had been battling it, though this one seemed more insect-like than the other, with segmented body parts, wings, and compound eyes. It was being crushed under Orion's trident, the monster himself standing behind it.

Another depicted Orion standing in front of the sun, his body a shadow, and what seemed to be crowds of people bowing before him.

Yet another showed what seemed to be an ancient human clashing a sword against Asgore's trident. The next showed humans building pyramids, watched on by Orion, who held the skull of a human in one of his hands. While she couldn't read the text, she could understand the story being conveyed, at least guess at it.

The sixth mural they passed showed Orion engaged in combat again, but this time with another monster, who wore a skeletal helmet with great tusks that jutted out from it, alongside his own horns. He wore great animal skins, and his weapon was a massive sword. If Frisk had to guess, this may be the 'Lord of Generals' Asgore had told her about.

The next mural showed the sword and the trident, but without their masters, instead surrounded by a sea of dust drifting through the air. It was actually chilling to look at, even without the reminders of her own past transgressions.

An eighth showed barely anything, outside of another strange letter, this one reminding her of an 'E', though it seemed very alien-like, and almost like an 'E' combined with an 'M'. Each of the other murals had depicted something similar within, the ancient letters almost always on Orion unless he wasn't in the artwork. Eight letters in total.

Something was clearly wrong when the ninth mural she encountered turned out to be the first, depicting Orion and the earth. "Didn't we… see this one?" She asked, looking back at Papyrus, who wasn't leaning against the wall anymore, his energy seeming to be returning. He frowned at the image before nodding. "YES, WE DID." He confirmed.

At this, Frisk continued, paying more attention to how the hall moved. When the mural showing the strange insect being killed by Orion came up, and the way the tunnel curved… they'd traveled in a circle. She pointed this out to Papyrus, whose face suddenly lit up. "I KNOW WHAT THIS IS!" He declared.

"Do you?" Frisk asked. "It'd be great if I knew too."

"IT'S A PUZZLE! PERHAPS A RIDDLE OF SORTS! PUZZLES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN INGRAINED INTO MONSTER CULTURE!" Papyrus stated proudly. "WE JUST HAVE TO SOLVE THE PUZZLE."

"But we can't read german." Frisk pointed out. Papyrus' face now fell. "TRUE… HM… MAYBE WE CAN FIND SOMEONE WHO DOES?"

"I can."

Frisk nearly leaped from her skin at the voice, whirling on her heel to see Chara standing in the glow of Frisk's SOUL. Papyrus gave Frisk a confused, searching look. "ARE YOU OKAY?"

"Y-yeah." Frisk replied, her heart about to pound out of her chest. She hadn't been expecting that in the slightest. She glared at Chara, who simply returned the look with a bored expression.

Frisk thought about that for a moment, before glancing back at Papyrus. "I… might be able to translate the words." She stated, glancing back at Chara to make sure she hadn't disappeared. "Let's go back to the first mural."

So they did, Papyrus now granted a jump to his steps, clearly excited that they were dealing with some sort of puzzle.

Once Chara got a look at the first mural, she easily transcribed it for Frisk as;

'The great Orion

In his power

He forged our world'

Frisk then translated for Papyrus, who stroked his chin. "HM… NOT MUCH TO GO ON. TO THE NEXT PICTURE!"

And so they went, moving from picture to picture as Chara translated for Frisk, who would do the same for Papyrus.

Onto the third they moved, then the fourth, fifth, all the way to the eighth, compiling the story told through each one.

''The great Orion

In his power

He forged our world

The empty ones

They sought his destruction

Instead, they fell

He united our world

He ruled us all

He had become like God

Humanity rose against him

They were destroyed

Like all those before

In his great mercy

He spared humanity

They were grateful

It was from his own blood

That his empire collapsed

Friend fights friend

The Lord of Generals

His war against Orion lasted for centuries

There was no winner

Orion then disappeared

He hid away in his crypt

He would return one day

And exact justice"

Asgore had told her that the "Lord of Generals" had been spared after losing, but this story said nobody had won. Maybe the tale had changed over time before it had been recorded, perhaps both this version and Asgore's were completely inaccurate. Either way, she didn't feel any closer to solving this 'puzzle'.

"It's just a story." Frisk pointed out. "IT IS, BUT THAT'S JUST THE FLAVOR." Papyrus proclaimed. "HAVE YOU NOTICED THE FUNNY LITTLE SYMBOLS ON EACH MURAL?"

"Yeah." Frisk admitted, before glancing toward Chara, who merely shrugged. "Dunno what those mean." She stated.

"THERE IS SOMEWHERE WITHIN THIS HALL THAT NEEDS THE SYMBOLS IN A CERTAIN ORDER TO FUNCTION." Papyrus informed her. "PROBABLY TO OPEN A TRAP DOOR. I HAVEN'T BEEN LOOKING ON THE OTHER WALL, HAVE YOU? MAYBE WE MISSED ANOTHER MURAL OR SOMETHING."

Frisk hadn't been paying much attention to the other wall, in fact. She agreed, feeling pretty glad that Papyrus was so comfortable with puzzles, even if he wasn't the best at making them.

Turns out, there had been a single mural on the left side, right after the eighth depiction. With it sat another series of words, though this one was much longer.

"König der Könige

Herr der Herren

Mörder von Männern

Vater der Monster

Der Sturm, den er ruft

Die Welt, die er erschüttert

Schwertbrecher

Lebensformer

Jeder fürchtet ihn

Alle verneigen sich vor seiner Gnade

Eine Auferstehung

Den Thron beanspruchen

Werde Vidal"

Chara immediately translated for Frisk, who provided the scoop for Papyrus.

"King of Kings

Lord of the Lords

Murderer of men

Father of the monsters

The storm he calls

The world he shakes

Sword breaker

Life shaper

Everyone fears him

All bow to his grace

A resurrection

Claim the throne

Become Vidal"

It was talking about Orion, clearly, despite the fact that there was no image here to confirm it. One word stood out to her. 'Vidal'. What was that? Chara didn't know the word, neither did Papyrus.

The only other thing was a series of eight letters sitting beneath the poem, all those strange, ancient letters. Papyrus inspected it for a moment as Frisk crouched down, and touched one of the letters, which was shaped like a 'Z', except it broke halfway to form a crude loop into a 'P'.

The moment her hand touched it, she felt a strange, surge of power. Coming from her. The world felt like it was spinning, and quite suddenly… it was all normal again.

Frisk took a step back, frowning. The letters were all growing with a crimson light now, outshining her SOUL tenfold. She let her light source fade as she stared at the letters… and nothing else happened. Papyrus cocked his head to this side. "I THINK IT REACTED TO YOUR SOUL." He claimed. "BUT THE LETTERS ARE OUT OF ORDER."

She had to assume he was right, because nothing else was happening. This time it was Papyrus who touched the letters, but nothing happened like it had for her. As the skeleton continued to inspect the letters, Frisk turned her gaze on Chara, who still had yet to offer an opinion, not to mention she was looking a little more solid than before. Chara recognized Frisk's questioning gaze.

"Your Determination increased." She stated. Frisk's eyes widened at this, but Chara continued. "Your Determination, not your LOVE."

This calmed the girl a little, though she still wasn't sure what that meant.

"It's said that Orion Dreemurr had a SOUL of Determination." Chara explained. "Fairy tales and stuff, but Asgore said it himself. Determination has always been linked with his family."

That still didn't explain what her 'increased' Determination meant, but she doubted Chara was about to elaborate further on it. She could often be cryptic.

"THESE MOVE." Papyrus announced, pushing one of the letters in, which had been carved into the slab of a stone. The grinding of stone against stone sounded, and the number ceased glowing. Cocking his head to the side, Papyrus continued messing with the stones before he managed to move the neighboring letter to slide over that one, revealing another number that had been hidden behind it, also not glowing- though once revealed, it pushed slowly forward and began to pulse with the same energy.

Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets. "GIVE ME A MOMENT, THIS IS A SPECIAL KIND OF BRAIN EXERCISE!"

She wasn't about to distract him by mentioning skeletons don't have brains, so Frisk leaned against the far wall, feeling the sting of her hand some more. She summoned the healing magic to work more on it as she glanced about, noticing Chara had disappeared again. She'd been helpful this time, at least. Some of her earlier frustration had evaporated by now, though that only reminded her of the truth to Chara's previous words.

"I'll tell them when the time is right." She muttered, directing her sentence to Chara. Papyrus grunted as he moved and shoved slabs of stone, but in a surprisingly short time, he had actually accomplished his task in putting the letters in order. This was signified when the crimson glow suddenly shifted into a turquoise aura.

"Good job, Papyrus!" Frisk felt a little elated. Beyond this trap door, if that's what it was, would undoubtedly be a way out of this old tomb. It felt like such an odd placement for a puzzle, though she was well aware how puzzle-crazy monsters could be. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a point in time where they had to solve a complex, extensive puzzle just to eat a bite of breakfast.

Papyrus puffed his chest out proudly. "THE PUZZLE MASTER TAUGHT ME WELL!" He proclaimed. She hadn't thought of the 'Puzzle Master', usually known as the 'Elder Puzzler', in quite some time. He'd been a rock-like monster with no appendages. Just a rock with a face and a grumpy attitude. She wondered if he was related to the old western sounding rock from the Ruins, or if either of them still existed in this timeline.

A rumble sounded in the tomb, and dust and dirt began to fall from the poem mural as it slid inward with an ear-grating screech before it came to a stop- and shifted, moving into the wall toward its right, still grinding against stone noisily as it went.

She and Papyrus stood, watching as another hall was revealed within, though something felt off about it. Blankets of webbing sat draped around it in its length, though they seemed shiny. Not spider-like in the slightest. A beam of light projected from the center of the distant room within, revealing an old, rickety ladder that led up to somewhere that cast a light down. Something moved within the dark confines of the room, and the blue light had faded. She summoned her SOUL to cast an extra glow, feeling as though whatever was in that room wouldn't be too kind to their racket they'd just made.

"DID YOU SEE THAT, TOO?" Papyrus asked, rattling his bones. "I think so." She replied, and took the lead, beginning to slowly walk into the inner hall toward the room, a scarlet machete materializing in her hand. She used it to cleanly slash one of the web blankets out of her path, and it came apart like metal wires, even moving like it. Clearly not regular webbing.

The thing moved inside again, and she paused, unable to pinpoint its exact location, though it didn't yet make itself known, so she continued.

Another wall of metallic webs was cut down. The entity moved. Once again, it didn't attack or enter the light her SOUL cast. Papyrus was close behind the girl, glaring into the darkness. A third wall was cut, and-

Frisk felt something slug into her chest, and felt her body being flung against a wall before a constricting sensation clutched at her. Her SOUL faded and darkness fell. The metallic webbing was now covering her body, pinning her to the wall. Papyrus let out a cry nearby before a thump sounded.

No. Not now. And not him.

A burst of scarlet light propelled from Frisk, splitting the webbing into miniscule sheddings that collapsed to the floor as her SOUL appeared again, burning even brighter than before. What was revealed to her was a great black body, almost void-like. Light seemed to just get sucked into it, and its size filled almost the entire hall. It had ten legs, eight like a spider's and the front two like massive scythes, one of which had stabbed into Papyrus, pinning him to the ground beneath it.

There was no mistaking what this creature was, as its empty, hungry green eyes turned on her, she knew what it was. The same creature depicted in the Andromaeus and Orion murals. It had been called 'the empty ones'. Creatures that Orion had allegedly brought to extinction. Clearly that wasn't the case, as she was face to face with one right now. Was there an underground society of them? Or were they more simple-minded? Was this a hive? Or was this creature simply that old?

An unworldly hiss escaped its mouth, though she couldn't see where that mouth was. Its eight legs moved as it spun itself around, yanking its arm from Papyrus, who whimpered. Could she actually take on an Empty?

She was about to find out.

Another ball of webbing fired from it, the way it moved its body to reveal an orifice in its chest, like a split full of angry, slobbering teeth. A shield was summoned, taking the attack. This was when she noticed something else extremely interesting. The webbing conformed around the front of the shield, then began to eat through it like acid. It acted exactly like Demon's attacks had.

He had some kind of relation to these creatures, she was sure of it. That meant Determination was its weakness. Or so she theorized. A beam shot from her machete as she pointed it toward the creature. The beam cut like butter through one of its legs, severing it. Black liquid sprayed from the wound as she moved forward, the beast letting out a chilling cry. The sounds it made sounded so distant, yet in her mind as well. It was disorienting.

She swung down with her blade, which cut into the creature's head, though lodged halfway through. It screeched like a banshee, and slashed with one of its scythe arms. The blade tore through her chest, flinging her off her feet and sailing into another blanket of metallic webbing.

Before she even had time to react, it had scuttled toward her, spitting webbing along her body, using its many legs to twist and turn her through the blanket, wrapping her up into a tight cocoon in seconds. Quite suddenly, she couldn't breathe, and with that came panic. She struggled against her confines, trying to wiggle free of it, but it was useless. Her chest began to burn, her mind began to swim…

A massive intake of breath brought her flooding back to the present. Cold stone was beneath her. Her heart was in overdrive as she proceeded to breathe more, welcoming the intake of air.

She felt gloved hands help her to her feet, and looked up to see Papyrus. It was too dark to make out any features aside from knowing he was there from the faint light cast from the hole that led out of this lair.

"Papyrus… where…?" She asked, still trying to regain her breath as she looked frantically about, which was pointless as everything was completely dark. "I FOUGHT IT OFF YOU. IT RAN AWAY." He stated. "I HAD TO USE MY SPECIAL ATTACK."

She still had no idea what that was, but regardless, she felt incredibly grateful he'd used it. That was twice now- no, three times in the last hour or two that he'd saved her skin. First when healing her after the fall, then when he solved the puzzle she may never have, and third just now.

"Let's get out of here before it comes back." She urged. Papyrus was in agreement as he let her ascend the ladder first. It was old, and strangely made of metal instead of wood, like she'd been expecting. It seemed so… modern.

Regardless, she emerged at the top to find she was in another old room. No murals clung to the ancient walls, but there were torches, lit with emerald flames that flickered. After she helped Papyrus out of the hole, she took the room in full. The soft molten glow that bounced about the walls flickered with a fire she could only describe as ancient. The room itself was lengthy, and she could have mistaken it for another tunnel had she not been able to see both ends, the one furthest to them complete with a massive golden door, the ending nearest them being a solid wall. Weapons of varying shapes and sizes lay scattered, though not many. Chests lay opened and empty as a thick layer of dust covered just about everything.

This was probably the armory, and probably the state it was in after the monsters were forced to flee this kingdom so many years ago. Another thing she noticed were half-sets of armor lying about. Chest plates, helmets, boots, and more, all golden in color.

"WOWIE. THOSE ARE SOME SHINY BATTLE BODIES!" Papyrus pointed out. Frisk had to agree. Despite the layer of dust, there still shone an aura of royalty to them. So this was the armory, and judging by the closed door, the others hadn't found it yet, not to mention that Empty creature hadn't fled up here. It was back in the Orion puzzle room. At that moment, however, a boom sounded.

Frisk and Papyrus jumped as they turned their gaze upon the golden door, which stood twenty feet high, and twelve feet wide. The sound had come from it, but the door hadn't budged an inch. The two shared a look, before the boom sounded again. Something on the other side was trying to bust in.

It could be Asgore… or it could be more Empty. Papyrus seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as he was hesitant-that is until a scythe-like arm emerged from the hole and swiped for them. They reacted by leaping out of its way just in time, the blade-arm slashing fruitlessly through the air as the creature snarled within. It was far too large to fit through the hole, leaving Frisk feeling foolish for having considered it could have fled up here.

Gritting her teeth, Frisk summoned a scythe of her own- and slashed. The Empty's arm spurt more of the black ooze as it cried out in pain, retreating again, its severed arm landing on the ground beside the hole. With that, she kept a hold of her scythe, and marched toward the door, a third boom sounding.

"I'LL JUST STAY BEHIND YOU." Papyrus offered, his recent experiences leaving him a little more hesitant than usual. They approached the great door to find a golden bar sat across it, slightly bending with each boom, a fourth making itself known. "Can you use your blue magic to lift the bar?" Frisk asked, turning to look at Papyrus, who frowned. "BLUE MAGIC ONLY AFFECTS SOULS." He stated. Frisk shook her head. "I've seen Sans use it to move objects that have no SOULs. Try it."

This was news to Papyrus, who'd probably never seen Sans use magic before, she was guessing. He looked unsure, but lifted his arm and stared at the golden bar. The skeleton stood there, focusing, a blue aura emanating from his gloved hand… yet nothing happened. He let out a sigh. "IT'S NOT WORKING. ARE YOU SURE YOU'VE SEEN SANS DO THAT? I'VE NEVER EVEN SEEN HIM USE MAGIC BEFORE."

"He uses magic a lot, actually." Frisk replied, before deciding to try and use a tool from her own magic. The scythe morphed, transforming into a monkey wrench. At its size, it looked pretty silly, standing the same height as her, but whatever.

Frisk grabbed the bar when a fifth bang sounded, and with Papyrus' help they tried to lift the bar. Turns out, it was real gold. They barely budged it, letting go at the sixth bang. She felt she was beginning to grow frustrated as the wrench disappeared, and she took a step back. "Try the blue magic again." She urged.

Papyrus complied, sticking out his arm and focusing- and it happened. A blue aura enveloped the golden bar, and the skeleton moved his arm upward. The bar wasn't nearly as quick, slowly lifting up, a seventh bang letting them know the being on the other side wasn't gone.

The bar was removed, and Papyrus let it go, a bead of sweat rolling down his skull. The stone cracked beneath the weight of the bar, and an eighth bang shoved the golden doors open a bit, though they seemed to be made of pure gold as well.

On the other side stood a huffing Asgore, still sporting his Hawaiian shirt. He looked at Papyrus, then at Frisk, before swiping a lock of his blonde hair from his face. "Frisk, dear, what happened?" She lifted her hand to look at it, the sleeve dripping with blood, completely soaked through. The sight alone made her stomach churn. "O-oh…" She said. "It's nothing."

"Nothing? Look at your chest! My child, rest against the wall." His request wasn't exactly optional as he rushed forward to fuss over her, making her sit down and lean against the wall as he began applying healing magic, his brow creased in worry.

Frisk took this opportunity to describe to him what had happened, from the obsidian wall and her theory about it-

"My child, those tunnels were built long before the underground was populated."

-to the fall and the puzzle of Orion-

"I must commend you, Papyrus, not many could actually solve that puzzle, and most had days!"

-to their confrontation with the Empty. Asgore had no response for this one, though his pale, white-furred face seemed to go even paler at the mention.

"Do you think it was an Empty?" Frisk asked. Asgore pursed his lips, moving his hand from her chest, which was feeling much better. His magic outclassed Papyrus tenfold, and it showed. The slash across her chest she'd barely been paying attention to was now a mere scar. She felt pretty glad nothing revealing was showing. He then got to work on her hand. "The Empty were just legends to scare young monsters into staying in their beds."

"Doesn't that just encourage nightmares?" Frisk asked aloud. "Probably." Asgore shrugged. "They can't actually exist, anyway. It may have been a very old… corrupted monster."

This actually piqued her interest. "Can that happen to monsters?"

Asgore gave a solemn nod. "It can. Easy to mistake for the Empty as well. A monster who has lost their mind can become feral, their bodies can transform into something hideous. It's extremely rare, but not unknown."

"Have any monsters gone feral while you were underground?"

"One." Asgore confirmed. "A… close friend of mine."

Now she had all sorts of questions. Feral Monsters seemed something akin to Amalgamates, just in a worse state of mind. At least the Amalgamates could somewhat retain their intelligence. "How does a monster go feral?" She asked.

"When one loses the will to live." Asgore replied. "When all hope is gone. When a monster abandons their consciousness. It's all mentality. I worked hard to keep hope alive underground, but unfortunately, he couldn't hold onto it. He let it consume him to the point where he… changed. Lashed out at others. He started to become feral before the royal guard and myself had to confront him. He killed three monsters before we put him out of his misery. He even managed to scar me."

For some reason, Frisk doubted Asgore's scar would ever be as noticeable as the one Demon had given him. She was still adjusting to his missing horn.

"Who was he?"

"Flouis Dhelaron." Asgore answered, his voice soft. Dhelaron. That was Undyne's last name. "He was the great grandfather of Undyne." Asgore confirmed. "A very noble warrior. For him to go feral, of all monsters… nobody could have seen it coming." The king cleared his throat, standing. "Enough tales, now. Papyrus, please take Frisk back to the surface. Muffet has been leaving a trail of special webbing, since some torches wouldn't light."

"Wait, dad." Frisk climbed to her feet. "What about that creature down there?" She gestured to the hole. Asgore grimaced. "I'll deal with them. You've lost a lot of blood, my child. You need to regain your strength if we are to be prepared for the Messiah's arrival."

He wasn't wrong, she was feeling kind of light-headed and weak. Deciding not to argue about it, Frisk allowed Papyrus to take her from the room.

With the excitement over, only now did she begin to recognize how exhausted she was. She was barely even paying attention to the arrows made of web that Papyrus was following, or the group of 'warriors' they passed. She could hear Sadie asking her something, but wasn't really paying attention.

Next thing she knew, she was standing in a familiar place. Asgore's throne room, underground. His golden chair, with the violet cushions standing in the center of a garden of golden flowers, sunlight streaming in through the ceiling, which was a series of stone beams that extended a few dozen feet. Stain glass windows lined either side of the room, depicting different events in Asgore's life. They were like the murals in the tombs, but prettier, and of a more recent time, even if it was a depiction of a thousand years passed.

A second throne sat at the end of the room, draped in white cloth. Beside it stood a familiar figure.

"Howdy, partner." Chara greeted. Frisk simply nodded in response. Chara was smiling, though there was a sinister undertone to it that made the living girl uncomfortable. "Remember every time you've stepped into this room for the first time?"

Frisk had no response. Truth was, she couldn't. She'd been through so many timelines, she lost track. A hundred thousand? A million? A billion? That seemed accurate. "Of course not." Chara shrugged. "When I was alive, Asgore would often let Asriel and I play here. He trusted us not to ruin his garden, or to eat the flowers. We played everywhere underground, but this place was special to me. I could see clouds up there." She pointed to the ceiling. "Sometimes the sun at the right time of day. But night was the best. When the stars would come out. I hated the surface, but that was a part I missed."

Frisk still said nothing, waiting for Chara to get to the point.

"Asriel never understood my hatred of humanity. Nobody really did. The things monsters like you did to me… that's impossible to forget." Chara's smile had remained, her scarlet eyes burning into Frisk. "Of course, I never explained it all to them. How could I expect them to understand me if I never offered the full, untainted truth."

Frisk could see where this was going now. Some sort of 'morality lesson' from Chara, which seemed extremely misplaced given what Chara had done.

"To this day, I still haven't delivered that truth. What was done to me. Those kinds of things are better left unsaid, partner. But when people know the truth, and you deceive them into believing it's otherwise, well… sooner or later someone will find out. Don't you think it'd be better if they heard it from you before anything else happens? Or would you rather rejection and hatred be your ultimate fate?"

"You sound like Sans." Frisk replied. This actually managed to trigger a reaction from Chara, whose face soured. "I hold distaste for him, but if you've made that connection, then you're aware of the accuracy in my testament. This will be held over your head, by me or yourself, until something finally happens."

"Then that's what happens. I'll tell them on my own time, Chara." Frisk shook her head, turning away. "As far as I'm concerned, those timelines never happened. Asgore's right. They're not canon to this timeline. They're fake."

Chara was the one who didn't respond as Frisk walked out of the throne room into an empty void, entering the familiar nightmare. The green eyes, the laugh… it was all familiar to her now, despite its connections to Undyne's experience, or the tragedy of Sadie's mom.

---

Her eyes opened, recognizing a biting cold lingering around her. The tunnels were below her now, that she could immediately recognize. When her vision adjusted, she found she was staring up at a blank, stone ceiling. Her head was pounding something awful, but she was feeling a lot better than just earlier. It was funny how one expedition had proved more deadly than her fight with Demon. That's what it felt like, at least.

Slowly, the teen lifted herself from what she was lying upon, realizing it was a quilt. A look around her told her that there were plenty others in the room with her, the throne room to be exact. The thrones themselves had been pushed against the wall, Dogaressa and Dogamy's pups playing around them, probably oblivious to the grave situation they all were truly in.

Many other recognizable faces lingered about, sitting or standing, though mostly the former, wrapped in quilts, huddled together.

Shivering, Frisk pulled her own quilt tightly around her as she got up onto her feet, swaying for a moment once there. Several eyes turned to her, but there wasn't any malice to them anymore. None that she could detect. A few nods when she locked eyes with someone. It was dark, so most people were sleeping. How long had she been out? Asgore wasn't in here, though she could see Alphys huddled in a corner, facing the wall, her shoulders softly heaving. Crying. Frisk felt like going over to comfort her, before deciding to figure out their situation first.

The human traveled out of the throne room to the exterior. Barely anybody was out here, save for a few huddled dog monsters near the door. Asgore was standing in the center of the courtyard, staring up into the sky. Snow littered the ground, casting a pale blanket over the world. No footsteps in the snow led to Asgore, who had a layer covering parts of him. The sky was clear and cloudless, stars lingering. He'd been standing there a long time if he'd been there long enough for it to snow, then for the clouds to clear.

Frisk made her way toward him, the snow crunching beneath her feet as she walked. He didn't turn as she approached. He remained silent, and she too said nothing, finding her place at his side, and staring up into the stars as well. They were twinkling along softly, just as they always had.

After a few moments, Frisk leaned against her father, who reacted by placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Feeling better?" He asked. His voice was quiet.

"Yeah." Frisk replied. "Just got a killer headache." A soft chuckle was his response. The silence befell them once more as they gazed upon the stars. Frisk shivered slightly, though she wasn't sure it was from the cold. "Things will never be the same." She stated. "Not in this timeline." Asgore confirmed. Frisk bit her lip, glancing about for a moment. "If I had power over the timeline again… would you want me to reset?"

Finally, Asgore looked down at her, his eyes searching. Distant. Uncertain. She could tell he had an answer, yet he wasn't sure if he should say it.

"I…" He began, voice trailing for a few moments. Finally, he turned his gaze away to return them upon the stars overhead. "How far back would we go?"

Frisk too returned her gaze to the heavens. "Underground." She informed. "To the time I fell."

Asgore seemed to ponder this, his chin moving, grinding his teeth together as though deep in thought. "I would." He finally said. "But that would not be my decision. I am an old man, my child. I have been through much… but to see her again would mean everything to me." His voice cracked at the end of his sentence. "I often wish it had been me that was slain that night… instead of Toriel… then perhaps… well, I don't know."

Frisk wasn't sure how to respond to that. Her next words mostly came from within. "She gave us a fighting chance. At least at first. I… was mad at her that night." She admitted, earning Asgore's gaze again. "She'd been gone so many nights, I felt like she was avoiding me, or something. If I'd… just calmed myself and read that stupid note, maybe… maybe at least we'd have stood a better chance before anyone else had to die."

Asgore searched his adoptive daughter's features with intrigue and compassion. She looked back, and they shared their gaze for a few moments, before they both returned to staring at the stars.

"Would you?" Asgore asked after a long moment of quiet calm. Frisk furrowed her brow. "Would I what?"

"Reset." He stated. "If you could, would you?"

It took Frisk even longer than Asgore to answer that. She'd spent a lot of time thinking about that herself. In the calm before sleep, or when she sat alone, thinking about things she could have done differently. If she still had control over the timeline…

She still wasn't sure. So much had been accomplished. So much had been done. Could she even afford to go back? Then there was Sans. He'd be pissed if she did. Maybe Flowey, too. Chara, as well. She'd been trying to urge Frisk toward the truth, and resetting was just one of the ways she ran from that truth. Would she reset? People would be alive again. Things would be simpler. Happier. More… fantastical. No Messiah trying to murder them. No hiding in the old ruins of a forgotten kingdom during the onset of a freezing winter. No wondering if tomorrow would be their last day…

Would she?

"No." Frisk finally said. Asgore hummed thoughtfully at that, as though he'd been expecting it. Neither said another word, gazing upon the heavens above, witnessing the stars and their ever-present march through the sky.

She wasn't sure how much time passed when she said goodnight to Asgore, and left him to return to the throne room, her hands numb. When she got back, she found that most people were still sleeping. Well, more than before. Snores filled the air like a strange rhythmic song. Not a great song, by any means, but somehow soothing. Maybe it was due to it being a reminder of so many people. Safety in numbers. It put her at ease.

One thing she noticed was Sans the skeleton himself. He was seated beside where she'd been resting, hands shoved into his pockets, eye sockets closed, asleep. She understood the gesture, probably more than most. He wanted to talk.

Casually, Frisk strode toward him, and took a seat beside the skeleton, huddling herself in her blanket. He didn't open his eyes, though he did speak.

"heya."

"Heya."

"busy day, i hear."

"Yep."

"how's the hand?"

Frisk looked down at her hand to find another bandage had been wrapped around it, this one not soaked in her own blood. She flexed her hand, feeling a sting within. "Not bad." She shrugged. "Haven't seen you since you went off with Flowey to distract the Messiah."

Sans shrugged, eyes remaining sealed shut, though he shifted a bit to relax more. "we managed for a bit. kept a whole lot off your backs, but… i guess the worst ones slipped through. at least she went down swingin'."

He was referring to Undyne, and Frisk felt her gut tighten, eyes automatically drifting to the corner Alphys was huddled in. Her shoulders no longer heaved. She'd fallen asleep. "How big was the timeline tear?" She asked quietly after a moment.

"not bad." Sans replied. "time is tough. hard to actually break it. calling it a tear is giving too much credit. it was more like a gust of wind blowing through a door right before it closes."

That was somewhat reassuring. At least now she was doubtful the world would collapse around them now, or something like that. "Asgore lied to them."

"it's fine." The skeleton sighed. "it's better like this anyway. them not knowing it's the truth. they're gonna need you, whether you know it or not."

Frisk turned her eyes upon Sans, who was still facing forward, no open eye sockets. She got the feeling he knew about something pretty big, and wasn't letting her in on the secret. Perhaps about the new timeline holder? Had Undyne's Determination done something more?

"Anything new on who has the timeline?" She asked. To her surprise, Sans actually nodded. "yep." He confirmed. "it's a girl. turns out she is associated with layla and katherine, but they've gone off the grid. flowey's out trying to track them."

That was kind of a shame. She'd been hoping to see Flowey. Next time, perhaps. He was probably annoyed Sans was sticking around here, though. "Papyrus did good today, by the way."

This managed to stretch the skeleton's grin. "yeah, i heard." He replied, his tone lighter. "proud of him. proud of you too, y'know." Now, he looked toward her, opening his right eye socket to glance her way. "i know we've not always seen eye-to-eye, but i'm thankful you're trying as hard as you are. tomorrow night is gonna be… interesting. i'll stick around to help, but it's all on you after."

His eye closed, and she closed her own eyes as well, trying to hide deeper into the quilt she'd been wearing. Where these had been found, she had no idea. They smelled of dirt, so probably somewhere down in the tunnels. She wasn't planning on visiting there ever again. As for the fate of the Empty, or the Feral, whatever it had been… she didn't really want to know what had happened to it.

Tomorrow night… it was obvious Sans knew something pretty important but was holding back. She could surmise he meant the Messiah would attack tomorrow night. It seemed to be the only logical conclusion… she just needed to make sure everyone here was ready for it.

Everything leading up to now… it had all been the calm before the storm.