A salty smell assaulted Undyne's nostrils as she exited the stairwell onto the deck. On the horizon, the sky was stained purple by the early dawn. She could see the coastline of Klazun just ahead of them, a massive stretch of sand reaching out before rocky ridges, fortified with bunkers. Nobody else was on the top deck, spare for a single monster, and she sighed.

She approached him, standing at attention.

"Your Majesty, you have been advised to move below deck to join the main force. The bombardments are about to begin."

Asgore turned around, cape flowing in the breeze behind him. He walked past Undyne...then stopped.

"You are afraid?"

The question caught her off. She shook her head. "No, sire...what gives you the idea?"

"Your hand is shaking." She glanced down to her right fist, and managed to stop the shaking.

"Apologies."

"What have you to be sorry for? General Stone said himself that this will likely be not just the deadliest battle of the war, but one of the bloodiest invasions in all of history, even more so than when humans first landed in Tarus and Paral in 1811. I think deep down, we are all a little afraid. Though...I am curious. What exactly are you afraid of?"

Undyne was silent, but from Asgore's stillness she could tell he would not leave until he had an answer.

"I fear for your safety, your majesty. You are the future of our people. With no heir to take the throne...if you are killed, who will lead us?"

Asgore was silent, himself. When he spoke, it was not a response she expected to hear.

"What about your own safety? You are just as likely to be killed. Do you not fear for your own life?"

Undyne huffed. "With all due respect, your highness...I do not."

"Why?"

"...You and I have both done things, your majesty. I do not need to go into detail...I think we both know what I refer to. If I am to be killed...I would see it as decent payback for the crimes."

Asgore turned to face her. "You feel guilty."

She met his gaze. "Do you not?"

He took the helmet from under his arm, sliding it onto his head. "More than you know, Captain. More than you know." He proceeded to the stairwell, disappearing below deck. She glanced back to the coast, then followed him. As she closed the door, the first firings of cannons caused the ship to rock.

The water in the black pool rippled. Peering grimly, intently, into it was a skeleton monster. Reflected within the pool was a vast armada of battleships, carriers, and destroyers. Almost too many to count. The joint naval force was crossing the Donnoval Pass, a stretch of ocean between Ephin and Eroth.

A thought flickered through Gaster's mind. Instantly the image changed, now displaying the decks of one of the larger cruisers. The top deck was emptier than usual, with just about every officer and soldier below deck preparing for the land invasion. Only one visible figure remained on the deck.

A crown situated atop a furry head. Iron armor glinted in the ship's lights as the king glared out over the water. One hand clutched a sword held to his side by a belt. Tucked under his other arm, an elegant helmet. Behind him, a cape flowed, sporting the royal colours of purple and gold. On the breastplate, the royal emblem. The armour covered every possible inch of the king's body, even including metal gauntlets and greaves. It was the armour that had been gifted to him by his father so many years ago, armour that never gotten to see its true worth in battle.

Gaster continued to observe as Undyne, dressed in her standard military outfit, approached him. Asgore began to walk towards a stairwell, then stopped. Silent words were exchanged. From the expressions, he could guess the subject. At the end of the discussion, the king slid the helmet on, then headed below the deck. His captain followed.

One more time the reflection shifted, showing the entire naval force. All at once, the large ships trained their guns towards the south. Smoke and fire exploded from the barrels of the cannons, as shells began to fly into the air, no doubt heading for the unseen coastline.

And the shells were just the beginning.

A presence announced itself, but Gaster did not need to look to know who the hooded figure was.

"The attack will succeed." The other's voice sounded firm, confident.

"Their victory will be temporary. You and I both know this. There are too many forces stacked against them elsewhere in the nation."

"You should have more faith in them."

"Perhaps you give them too much of yours." Gaster turned to Ausgrid. "You claim the war will be successful. Now, I do not doubt that one way or another, monsters will come out on top. But how many lives will be needlessly lost? You know as well as I do that the ongoing attack is all across the continent. Even with our help, there will be tens of thousands of lives lost. Without it?...I do not even want to think of it."

Ausgrid growled, "And what do you suppose we do about it? Remember, we are not typically supposed to interfere with time's plans."

Gaster scoffed. "You say that as if we have not done so time and time again. Face it. The time for abiding by meager rules is over. The general puts it best. Times have changed. Just as they have to change with them, so do we!"

Ausgrid looked back to the pool, watching as the shells pummelled the defenses along one of the many ridges.

"Is that why you lied to Sans?"

Gaster narrowed his eyesockets. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"I am not. Stupid. My friend. You forget that I know all. I see all. Do not think for a second that you can go behind my back to bring about your own agenda."

"He needed a push. I gave it to him. You did the same thing when Frisk was trapped in the void," Gaster insisted.

"Even so...what do you suppose we do about this apparent predicament you speak of?"

"I propose that we go down there and give them some help! I am through sitting back and allowing those I care about to be hurt! If time has a plan, I intend to make it succeed. No matter the cost."

Ausgrid slowly glanced at him. "And what will happen when our interference begins to harm more than help?"

Gaster stood up straighter. "I will not allow it to come to that."

"...We shall see. We...shall...see."

"C'mon buddy, give me at least some minimal effort here," Sans grunted, heaving Frisk off of the couch, propping him up in the wheelchair. The child was blank-faced and pale. His hair by now was unkempt, and only his breathing suggested that he was still alive. Sans walked around behind the wheelchair, wheeling his friend out through the front door into the snow.

Immediately he turned to the right, pushing Frisk behind the house and into the shed, closing the doors behind him. He then pushed Frisk forward towards the workbench. He walked around in front of him, lifting up the containment pod showing it to Frisk, hoping for some sort of reaction. It took a moment, but there seemed to be a flicker of life, and then a croak.

"A...A soul…"

Sans chuckled. "not just any soul...yours…"

"M...Mine?" Frisk asked, shifting his glazed gaze to the skeleton. Sans nodded.

"yeah. remember? you gave me and alphys much of your determination to make it. this...is what you helped make. and now you get to use it."

Frisk shook his head. "I don't want to...I just want to fade...I was never even supposed to make it back here...none of this is supposed to be happening…"

Sans huffed, and tried to keep the irritation from his tone. "i know, i know. thing is though, it is happening. now frisk, you need to listen to me. all those friends that you made, all the work you've done...if you don't absorb this soul, it will all be for nothing. right now, they are going to attack the defenders. if you don't absorb this soul...then sooner or later, they are all going to die, and we'll be next. so please...see reason...and take the soul."

Sans opened the containment pod. The soul let out a pale glow as it hovered in front of the stricken child. Frisk only stared at it, mesmerized. Sans knelt down, and his words distracted Frisk's gaze for a moment.

"c'mon pal… please… do it for me… for alphys… undyne… papyrus… asgore… tori… everyone that's gone… and everybody that will come… do it for them… please… make sure that there is a future for them to cling to. Keep their hope alive, do not let the little flame die out."

Frisk turned back to the soul. His arm shook weakly as he raised it from the wheelchair bringing the soul closer to him. A small smile spread across his face. He opened his fingers, and closed them around the soul. A blinding light filled the room, followed by an invisible shockwave...and everything went dark.