Magic Bullet Number Fifteen

His back was on fire. The nerves were frayed, torn, broken and it hurt. God, it hurt. Frisk opened one eye, slowly, then the other, and finally sat up. He gritted his teeth as magma rolled down his back and his spine begged him not to do any more moving for the next week, please, for the love of God…

But he forced himself to stand, ignoring the burning sensation in his back. It hurt, sure, but it would pass, eventually. Frisk rolled his neck and felt a couple of his vertebrae slide back into place, or at least as close to back into place as they'd get for the foreseeable future. Then, something he realized he hadn't done in what felt like ages, he glanced down at the flowerbed under his shoes, then up and around him. The earth was raised, but only slightly, and he could see massive pillars supporting the rock formations overhead, and further beyond, the last traces of sunlight were filtering in from the surface. He stayed there for another minute as a thought crossed his mind, a thought he didn't think he'd ever bring back up for a long, long time. "This is it. This is the magic bullet," he muttered to himself.

He lowered his head again, and looked ahead. A straight shot out of the antechamber. Frisk breathed in, and took the first step of a journey of a thousand more. The cool air from the surface and the sunlight faded away as he walked through a rough cave mouth and into a long, dark hallway beyond. He didn't bother looking at the walls for long; there really wasn't much there, just crumbling stonework hewn from ancient hands long since turned to dust. Not important for now. What was important…

"Howdy!"

...Was that he'd have company very soon.

Frisk stopped and looked down at a little yellow flower who'd popped up in front of him. He wanted to smile, but he had to keep himself in check; try and convince Flowey nothing was wrong. "I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!" Flowey chirped. Frisk looked down at Flowey's bright, smiling face. "Say…" The little monster squinted up at Frisk for a moment before continuing, "That's a face I've never seen before! You're new here, aren'cha?"

He sucked a breath in and looked off to the side before he muttered, "I guess."

"Great!" Flowey exclaimed and bounced in place a bit. "That means I can teach you all you need to know about the Underground!"

Suddenly, a cloud of odd seeds appeared above Flowey's head, and Frisk looked up at them, pretending to be surprised. "See, down here, if you wanna come out on top, you'll need LV! What's LV?" Flowey asked. "Why, LV is LOVE, of course! And you need it to be strong! You want some LV, don't you?" Flowey bounced again and flashed a wide, innocent smile. "Of course you do! Don't you worry, I'll share some with you! Run around and catch the bul…the 'friendliness pellets.'"

Frisk tried not to smirk as the bullets came closer. He stared at them for a while as they closed in, until they were about an arm's length away, and then he went ahead with the surprise. As one came closer, he suddenly ducked down faster than a child of his age and build should be able to move. It caught Flowey off-guard well enough. "What the—!" The bullets began to move faster in response, almost homing in on Frisk, but he ducked, dodged, and weaved around them until he had a clean shot at the archway beyond, and he broke into a full sprint. He did want to call something back to Flowey: a word of encouragement, a promise, something, but in the end, he decided it was for the best to stay quiet. Flowey probably wouldn't hear him anyway, considering he heard a voice screech "Get back here so I can kill you…!" behind him.

He barreled through the archway and kept running forward across an open area, the floor made of stone. A cursory glance around revealed that he was in some kind of forum, or small amphitheatre, but he kept running right through it. All around him were ruined buildings, time having broken them down into hollow shells of their former glory. He tried to remain on the bigger streets in between them all, however, and only stopped after a couple more minutes just to be sure Flowey wasn't following him. Frisk turned back, panting heavily from sprinting like a madman down the dingy alleyways, but from where he was, he didn't see any sign of the little weed, so he recomposed himself and kept moving.

It was only when he'd walked a few feet and looked up that he truly understood the scope of the Ruins: above him, he could see cliffs stacked with the decrepit remains of a once-thriving city. Somewhere far away, at the top of it all, he could faintly see a massive pillar of rock, a stalactite, reaching from the ground up to the darkened ceiling of the mountain with white light barely cresting both sides. At its base was a partially destroyed castle, the upper floors all but crumbled away. Frisk could guess that was where Toriel's home was, and in truth, he was surprised; it wasn't as large as New Home, but certainly bigger in scope than he ever really expected the Ruins to be.

He shook off the sense of wonder and quickly made his way forward until he came to a courtyard after climbing a slight incline, and he recognized it immediately. He looked down at the leaf pile under the stairs, and saw no pulsing light. The SAVE point was gone.

It probably should have worried him, but now he couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved. Frisk was about to sit down on the leaf pile to rest for a minute, until he saw a figure exit the entryway at the top of the stairs. A monster, three times his height at least and wearing a purple robe with the Delta Rune sewn on it. When she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise and she exclaimed a small "Oh!" Frisk remained in place, at least until she had walked down the stairs. "Greetings, young one. Please, do not be afraid. I am Toriel, and I live here in the Ruins as its caretaker. I was about to—"

She was cut off and exclaimed lightly in surprise as Frisk ran up and hugged her tightly as soon as she came close. They remained frozen like that for a minute before Toriel looked down and Frisk looked back up, and smiled. Toriel blinked a couple times and then blushed. "Well...it is good to know you are friendly," she said. Frisk laughed and let her go, and Toriel added, "I was about to check for any humans who might have fallen through the Barrier, but it seems you have saved me a trip." She paused to think for a moment and then said anxiously, "Unless you were not alone...?"

"Nope. Just me," he replied.

She was visibly relieved. "That is good," she sighed. Toriel turned around and held out her hand. "Come, child. I will guide you through these catacombs."

He smiled, reached out, and took her hand, and Toriel smiled back at him in turn. Together, they walked into the archway and deeper into the Ruins. As it was, they were walking through many corridors with their own ceiling. Frisk didn't know why, but he figured it didn't really matter to ask for an answer. The two of them remained silent until Toriel came up to a massive door also inscribed with the Delta Rune, along with obvious pressure plates scattered around the area. "The Ruins are filled with puzzles, little one," Toriel explained. "They were meant to deter humans from coming here in the days following the Human-Monster War, but now they are…" She trailed off and seemed a bit sheepish. "...Somewhat cumbersome. One moment." She let go of his hand and proceeded to step on five of the many plates around the room, and the door opened right up. Toriel nodded once and then came back to Frisk, her hand held out. "Are you ready to proceed, my child?"

"Frisk."

Toriel tilted her head when Frisk spoke, and he repeated, "My name's Frisk. Sorry for...not saying anything earlier. It's been a long day."

She stared at him for a moment and then began to laugh happily. "Oh, do not worry! I understand. Falling into the Underground would be disorienting for anyone!"

Frisk smiled meekly and looked down at his shoes and replied, "Yeah. Falling down."

Toriel held her hand back out, and after a moment, Frisk graciously took it. They walked through the door and across a few more intersections. One of them had a crumbling roof, and Frisk got a quick look outside at a pathway that rose upward, toward the dull light at the edge of the Ruins. As he looked around, Frisk couldn't help but remember the first time he fell into the Ruins. The very first time, when everything was new and scary, but also very exciting. He looked at all the sidestreets and hallways and wondered if, perhaps, he'd ever been down the same street twice? He could see himself as he was back then, all riled up, a little sparkplug in a sweatshirt. He could remember his old self getting led around by Toriel even now: Let go of me, lady! I'm not some fuckin' toddler! I'm not gonna cry if I don't get my bottle, leggo!

It was then that he noticed the two of them had walked all the way to a hallway that funnelled whoever would be walking through it to a bridge covered in spikes over a deep pit filled with water, perhaps a chokepoint for an invading army of humans. The halls opened up to the dying grandeur of the Ruins at large, and Frisk realized they'd skipped the dummy fight. He smiled meekly to himself. Good. Change was good. Change was something to celebrate, and best of all, it seemed to mean there would be fewer detours to his main objective.

The magic bullet.

"There is a puzzle in this room, but…" Toriel's voice brought him back to the present. She looked from him across the pond and the spikes, and then looked back down at him. "Follow me, Frisk." She continued to walk forward, Frisk trailing behind her, over the spikes. They automatically sunk into the floor as they walked over a specific path and crossed to the other side. When they slowed down, Toriel let go of his hand and said, "These puzzles are a little too dangerous."

Then there was more walking, through empty corridors with crumbling walls and up chipped stone stairs that let Frisk look out over the bottom floors of the Ruins, and how it all seemed to be arranged like its own massive amphitheatre. After several minutes, they crested another set of stairs and turned left to come to a long hallway lined with marble columns that had weathered the test of time. Toriel stopped a few paces in and Frisk did likewise as she turned to him and said, "Frisk, you have done quite well thus far, braving the twisting paths of the Ruins...but...I must make a difficult request of you." He simply stood at attention and looked up at Toriel expectantly. "I would like you to walk to the end of this room by yourself," she continued. "Please forgive me." Toriel had barely finished before she had turned and ran down the hall. It had been jarring, the first time, the very first time. Frisk had thought there was no need to test his independence; he'd climbed Mount Ebott alone, after all. The first time Toriel had disappeared on the other side of the room he had been slightly confused, but the fact he could only see one pillar gave it away. Now, it was even more obvious, because he could see, though he had to squint, that Toriel had simply run to the end of the room and quickly hid behind one of the columns.

Shaking himself free of the memories, Frisk began trekking through the corridor, step by step, until he came to the pillar. As he passed it, Toriel stepped out from behind it and exclaimed, "Hello, my child. Do not be frightened, I did not abandon you." She stepped forward and gestured to the column with her right hand. "I was merely hiding behind this pillar! I promise you, there was an important reason for this."

Frisk decided to indulge her. "Which is…?"

Toriel smiled back down at him. "To test your independence. I must be sure you will remain safe if I leave for a few minutes."

Looking from the pillar back to Toriel gave him an idea, and he grinned. "Are you afraid I might…" Frisk nodded his head over to the pillar. "Spontaneously column-bust?"

Toriel hadn't expected that. She quickly covered her mouth with one hand, after her face had shifted from confusion, to shock, to joy, all within the span of half a second. Frisk could hear her trying to stifle her laughter. She wasn't doing a very good job, though, considering he could still hear it, loud and heavy.

"O-oh…" She was trying to wipe the tears from her eyes, trying to pass it off as something else. "Oh, my goodness…" She had to pause a second, and then she looked down at Frisk. She was beaming. "You are full of surprises."

Frisk lowered his head and scoffed once. "I've been told that a lot."

"Ah...a desirable trait to have," Toriel replied, trying to get her happiness in check. "As I was saying, I must leave for a few minutes, so you must remain here until I return. Here…" she said as she reached into a pocket in her robe and produced a cell phone, which she handed to Frisk, "I have this old cell phone you may use. If you need anything, please call."

Frisk took a good look at it. It was yellow, the paint was chipped and there was a hairline crack in the screen, but it would look better once Alphys got her claws on it. He couldn't help but smile at the coincidence, this thing that was given at the start of his journey being the thing that saved him, not too long ago.

"...Please be good." Frisk glanced back up at aToriel, who gave him another happy smile and then she turned and walked around a corner, and then she was gone.

Frisk took a moment to sit down and rest his legs. The walk had been much longer than before, no doubt because of his changed perception. He looked around the room as he rested his back against the pillar, going over the previous timeline in his head. The highs, the lows, the mysteries that had been solved. How it went horribly wrong...how he managed to turn crushing defeat into a victory, or at the very least, a second chance. He took a deep breath as he thought of everyone who still needed him. Sans, Papyrus, Alphys, Undyne, Asgore…

Asriel.

His eyes shot open as he hopped back to his feet and charged out of the hallway.

You are filled with Determination.


The decrepit halls of antiquity wound around each other far more than how he remembered them. Frisk looked up at the buildings around him, those ancient stone structures that had their purpose long obscured by history. What buildings had they been for? Administration? Entertainment? Housing? He didn't know. At this point, Toriel had forgotten what purpose they served as well. He'd asked, a couple times, long ago, and she had paused and placed the book she was reading down and glanced up thoughtfully. She said it had been so long, she didn't remember. Frisk could tell from the tone of her voice—low and tinged with melancholy—that she was lying. The more likely scenario was that she'd repressed the memories of long ago so much that almost all of it had faded away.

It was one of the questions he'd entertained sometimes, while he was walking between destinations on this mystical adventure: why does the past hurt so much?

After a few more minutes of walking, Frisk found himself crossing through an open area with multiple plots of rectangles covered in fallen leaves, or filled with overgrown grass. Multiple gnarled trees placed around the area and several statues, including one of the Delta Rune, told him this must have been a park or garden, once upon a long, long time ago, and the perimeter was surrounded by pillars holding a domed ceiling above it. His legs beginning to feel sore, Frisk sat down in the middle of one of the plots of land covered by leaves, his knees held up close to his chest, and his arms wrapped around the top. He took a deep breath and looked forward, out into the open air. He couldn't see anything from this vantage point, there was at least twenty feet of solid ground in front of him that led to a sheer vertical drop. But beyond that, he knew there was the perfect view of the Ruins in its entirety, all leading down to the ground floor where the Barrier's opening was. Where yellow flowers grew freely.

He must have been there for some time, because he could slowly feel a presence creeping up on him, despite the utter silence of the garden. It had become second nature by this point, being able to feel when a monster was close by, honed over days (or maybe weeks, or centuries, thanks to time's mutable nature) spent in the Underground. To be fair, however, he had to hone it by encountering monsters, and they weren't so much "encountering" each other as they were stumbling into each other like total strangers in a pitch black room, looking for a light switch. More often than not, he was the one stumbling into the monsters.

Either way, Frisk felt a tugging feeling in his SOUL, but it didn't lead into a FIGHT. Instead, he just perked up and turned around to see who was coming closer. Behind him, only a scant few feet away, a ghost was hovering above the ground, and he didn't jump or flinch when Frisk looked at him, but his eyes did get wider. "oh…..oh, no," he said, "i saw you sitting there and got curious….but i guess you were just resting…...you probably don't want company, i'll just…..go…." Napstablook seemed to curl up and started to fade away.

Frisk's brows furrowed and he held out his arm, calling, "Hey, wait!" He was actually quite surprised when Napstablook became opaque again and stared at him in surprise. Not willing to lose momentum, Frisk smiled at him and gingerly patted the ground next to him, but Napstablook didn't move. He patted the ground again and kept smiling. Napstablook's confused expression didn't change for awhile; a painfully long while, to the point the silence almost got awkward, but to Frisk's relief, the ghost floated forward and came to a stop next to him, and then floated down a bit. Frisk just smiled at him and then turned back toward the open air in front of them, in the yawning dark.

Neither of them said anything, staring out into the dark expanse as the minutes ticked by. Frisk made a side glance at Napstablook. He was "sitting" on the ground, which meant he had just lowered himself to be just above the floor and was bobbing up and down almost imperceptibly. Frisk turned his head fully to make eye contact with Napstablook and smiled again. "Hey," he said, "wanna hear a joke?"

"hmm…? oh...i guess...i don't want to force you or anything….." Napstablook replied after turning three quarters of the way toward him.

"Why didn't the ghost go to prom?" Frisk asked, his grin turning cocky.

Napstablook's eyes got a bit more glum than usual. "...he didn't have any 'body' to go with, i think….?"

Frisk chuckled, "No, he didn't have a ghoul-friend!"

Napstablook didn't say anything. He was quiet for so long that Frisk began to wonder if he even understood the punchline. Then, faintly, barely audible, he heard Napstablook utter a low, monotone "...heh."

Frisk clenched his fist and shook it once. Victory tasted sweet.

They went back to darkness-watching for another moment before Napstablook began, "i only come to the ruins to be alone sometimes….it helps me think..." Frisk looked over to meet his gaze and could have sworn he saw the ghost (pun fully intended) of a smile on his face. "but today…..i met someone nice." Frisk smiled back, but by then the ghost seemed to have decided he'd overstayed his welcome as he fretted, "oh no, i'm rambling again….i'll get out of your way..."

And with that, Napstablook faded away into thin air and Frisk was left to watch him go. Frisk knew for a fact the ghost couldn't yammer on even if he tried. Certainly not like Mettaton, and he really wished he knew a way to help build Napstablook's self-esteem; no matter what, Napstablook didn't develop any kind of assertiveness when the Barrier fell, despite touring with Mettaton. But he did get happier, so maybe that's just who Napstablook was. In any case, Frisk remained seated for another couple minutes before he breathed deeply, stood up, and dusted off his shorts before he turned and walked out of the garden and through another hallway that led deeper into the Ruins.


When Frisk turned the next corner, he was slightly disappointed to find a wall of rubble in his way. It was mostly fallen rock from the ceiling, if he had to guess, and the collapsed remains of a couple buildings. He pursed his lips and huffed in frustration before placing his hands on his hips and glanced around. The street was fairly narrow, and in the shadow of the cliff that led upward to where the old castle once must have stood tall and proud. He quickly noticed there was an entryway into a nearby building; the door was gone, so he ducked inside and found an open space with rotting wooden floors.

It was small, like some sort of apartment, and completely threadbare. Whoever lived here left long, long ago, and took all their possessions with them. He couldn't help but slow down and look around, staring at the floorboards and the decaying ceiling with cracks running through it and moss steadily encroaching on the dark corners of the rooms. Frisk passed through them until he had gone through to a back entrance. There was no door here, either, so he stepped outside into a small alley between two buildings, and then stepped back through another door on the other building. This place was much like the previous building, save for a Froggit and Whimsun standing in front of what must have once been the front bay window.

"...And I'm tellin' you there's no way Lord Galvotron would have tried that!" the Whimsun argued. "The fight with Hatred Star was in volume twenty-six, and he didn't get the power to command the 'Spark Meteor Impact' until volume seventy-five!"

The froggit only stared at him, then blinked a couple times and said, "Ribbit. Ribbit, ribbit. Ribbit...ribbit ribbit. Ribbit."

"Okay, now you're just being difficult."

Frisk passed them without making any fast movements. When he got close enough, the Whimsun turned around to look at him, and the Froggit poked its head out from behind, regarding him carefully. All Frisk did was turn to look at them and wave with a small smile. The Whimsun waved back, and when he passed by, he heard the two of them resume arguing (if a Froggit saying "ribbit" over and over could be called arguing). He stopped in the middle of a wide thoroughfare and took another look around. The old castle was now to his right, so he turned and followed the street. It took him around a couple turns and eventually angled itself upward as it continued to twist. Frisk couldn't help but notice the buildings getting bigger and more ornate the more he walked up the street, even though they were highly dilapidated. Eventually, he saw the street ahead open up.

It led into a large plaza, and it was rather nondescript except for the once-opulent houses and apartments surrounding it along with the Delta Rune engraved on the ground and scaled up to be ten times larger than normal. There were also raised areas of the stone that led up to the front of the old castle. Frisk knew because could see the black, dying tree, though at this distance it was more like a stick standing straight up.

He wasted no time in power walking across the open space and climbed the raised stone platforms up to the castle's entrance. It took him at least fifteen minutes to walk from one end to the other, but strangely, he didn't feel very tired once he reached the end.

The only thing he did was walk up to the old, gnarled tree, and study it for a moment. Exactly how he remembered. Old. Gnarled. Probably didn't have much time left on this earth. Frisk sighed and glanced around, looking for movement, and when he saw none, he sat down at the stump of the tree and leaned back against it, and closed his eyes. It was an odd feeling, being able to just...sit down. Relax. Frisk breathed in deep; the air was stale, but thankfully not stagnant. Funny, he'd never really taken the time to notice before. Maybe because he could never go back into the Ruins after leaving them, and when he was able to go back...sometimes, he just didn't want to. It hurt too much. He always did end up going back in, but almost every fiber of his being was devoted to keeping a straight face, to focusing on his destination. Never about the details in the world around him. When he opened his eyes, he could see across the whole plaza in front of him, and a few of the taller buildings' tops poking up over the plateau's ground level. Eventually, it all dipped down into the darkness of the mountain.

"Goodness!" Frisk sat back up when he heard Toriel's voice cut through the silence, accompanied by her footsteps approaching the tree. "That took much longer than I expected…" Frisk picked himself up off the ground and peered around the gnarled trunk, and like clockwork, there she was. She had just brought her phone to her ear when she saw him poke his head out from behind the tree, and gasped before quickly replacing it inside her robe and rushing over to him. Toriel knelt down to hug him, and he didn't put up any resistance. She clutched him tightly for another moment, then released her grip enough to lean back and look him over. "Frisk! My child, are you well? You..." As she scanned him, she didn't find any evidence of cuts or even a scratch. Her expression switched from concerned to surprised in a matter of seconds. "...Are not even hurt. I am impressed!" she exclaimed happily. Toriel just as quickly returned to a neutral expression and stood back up to her full height. "Still, you should not have tried to navigate the Ruins by yourself. There are places even I have not gone because of their decrepit nature, although I suppose it was irresponsible of me to simply leave you there in the first place." She sighed and clasped her hands in front of her before she made eye contact with him again and smiled. "Please forgive me. I wanted to give you a surprise!" she said. She reached out for him, and he took her hand once more before leading him toward the old seat of the Dreemurr line.

It was smaller than the castle in New Home, if he had to guess. Certainly nowhere near as tall, but he could tell it was pressed up against a rock formation that hid Snowdin on the other side. He could tell because of the icy formations on the sides and dim blue light filtering past the outermost edges. The castle itself was crumbling, but it was relegated to the two spires rising above it as well as a west wing. Frisk was pretty sure he'd never been there before, and never needed to go there in the first place. They approached the entrance, still just as tidy as Frisk remembered. Much smaller than the entrance to the castle in New Home, though. Crossing the threshold, Frisk was greeted with the smell of…

"Do you smell that?" Toriel asked. When Frisk looked up at her expectantly, a smile crossed her face and she exclaimed, "Surprise! It is butterscotch-cinnamon pie. In my excitement, I forgot to ask you if you preferred one or the other, so I simply compromised!" She folded her hands in front of her again and continued, "I thought we might celebrate your arrival, so...I will hold off on snail pie for now," with a small grin that she probably thought he wouldn't catch. Frisk couldn't help but form a smirk of his own. Then, Toriel turned to face him and leaned over and whispered, "I have just one more surprise for you." She reached out, and he graciously took her hand, and like before, she led him to the right. They walked down the long corridor; Frisk could see the end of the hall was further than he remembered, and there was a double door there as well, cordoned off with rope nailed at each end to hold it up. Toriel led him to the first room and said, "Here! A room of your own. I tidied it as best I—"

She was cut off when Frisk suddenly ducked in close and threw his arms around her in a hug, and he held tight as he buried his face in her robe. Toriel exclaimed in mild surprise, but looked back down on him with a gentle smile and lightly trussed his hair. Eventually, Frisk glanced back up slowly, and whispered, "Thank you."

Toriel kept smiling down at him for a few seconds before she looked up, mild alarm written on her face. Frisk instinctively let go, and she said, "I think something is burning...make yourself at home, Frisk!" before she ran off back down the hall. Frisk watched her go and disappear around the corner into the kitchen before he turned back and walked the rest of the way. He made it to the end, and the double door that had been blocked. There was a sign on it, reading "Room under renovations." Frisk hummed thoughtfully and turned back around; when he passed the large mirror, he looked into it.

He hadn't gotten a good look at himself in a while. Messy, but not wild, chocolate colored hair, white-ish complexion exacerbated by the lightless conditions of the Underground, dark brown eyes that looked hazel under the right lighting conditions, and his trusty polymer striped sweater, brown khaki shorts, and a pair of shoes well-acclimated to hiking or walking long distances. He could guess where the cuts had been by the memory still being fresh, across his arms, a few puncture wounds running from his left shoulder to the right side of his chest, just under the ribs. He could still sort of feel the skin on his face tingle like it had been jabbed by a thousand tiny needles, the remnants of a burn. But now, it wouldn't happen, if he played his cards right; if he carried the treasure he had to its sacred destination.

...It's you.

He couldn't help but smile at his reflection, and it smiled right back. Frisk turned, satisfied, and walked to his room and opened the door. The light was dim, like it always was, and there wasn't much to see he hadn't looked at before; the stuffed toys in the corner, behind the bed (shoved aside and hidden, so looking at them wouldn't remind her of the child she lost), the old, dusty, photo frame (that once held three smiling faces and now only housed bitter memories), and box full of kids' shoes (that had never made it back to the surface to see their friends and families again). Frisk could still hear an old tune in the air, playing on acoustic guitar strings. He'd heard it before, ever since the first time, and had wondered who was playing it, but he eventually decided it was just something that involuntarily played in his head and would always be associated with this room, heavy blankets, dusty wardrobes, and fresh pie.

Always associated with "Home," whatever form it took.

The past few hours hadn't been grueling, but Frisk still felt tired enough to kick off his shoes and lie back on the bed. A quick tumble to the side shut the light off and the music only he could hear shifted to the frequency of a humble music box. At first, Frisk hadn't liked it when the lights were turned off, though. The first time he had slept in this bed, he felt uncomfortable, like someone was watching him. He understood why after his adventure, after taking some time to think about it: he felt like an intruder, like the room didn't belong to him.

Which was a fair assumption, because it didn't.

But now, he couldn't really bring himself to care. Right now, he was just concerned with getting a couple hours of rest.

He had a feeling he was going to need it.


Frisk woke up slowly, the bedsheets and blankets trying to lull him back to sleep, but to no avail. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes and swung himself out of bed, still dressed in his sweater and shorts. There was pie waiting for him on the floor. Frisk smiled. The more he played this little game, the more he appreciated the smaller things, and no matter how many times he ran through the Underground, Toriel's cinnamon-butterscotch pie always tasted fantastic...no matter his current mindset, determined, depressed, or...otherwise. He picked up the slice of pie and ate it quickly, but not fast enough for it to be considered "wolfed down," and he left his room and went back down the hall. Frisk came to the living room, where Toriel was sitting in her chair in front of a roaring fire, busy reading one of the few books she had brought with her, years and years after she had left New Home. Frisk had read them all, at some point or another, but he'd never stayed longer than two weeks. Nothing had changed no matter how long he stayed.

But even though he couldn't break all of them, his boundaries had opened up considerably.

"Ah, up already, I see?" Toriel looked up from her book, but trailed off before continuing, "Um, I want you to know how glad I am to have someone here...I have so many old books I want to share!" Frisk walked up and gingerly got up on the recliner to sit on her knee. He looked like an oversized baby, but he really didn't care. It's not like anyone was watching, anyway. "And I want to show you my favorite bug-hunting spot."

Frisk smiled up at her. "That sounds fun!"

She paused a minute before she hesitantly said, "I've also prepared a curriculum for your education." Toriel probably expected Frisk to groan. No one under the age of forty enjoys school; if they did, that's probably because they were either using it just to see their friends...or they were a business major. Frisk didn't voice any displeasure, mainly because Toriel was a great teacher, and also because he'd heard her repeat that phrase more than a hundred times before.

"I expected that," he shrugged.

"Oh!" She looked a little surprised. Maybe she had expected a more subdued response from the girls that had passed through her care, but Frisk was certain by now that whoever owned the old boxing gloves and six-shooter were not the kind of people who would want to stay cooped up in a classroom all day. "Well...good! It may come as a surprise to you, but I have always wanted to become a teacher…" She trailed off again. "Well, perhaps that isn't very surprising. Still…" Frisk spluttered and tried to keep himself from laughing at Toriel's disgruntled expression. "I am glad to have you living here." She looked down into Frisk's eyes, and sensing something once more, asked, "Oh! Did you want something...?"

Frisk didn't move for a moment...but he shook his head. "No."

Toriel nodded once and soothed, "If you do need something, Frisk...do not hesitate to ask."

All he did was turn around to look at the main foyer and reply with an absentminded, "Hm." Frisk walked out of the living room, back toward the entrance, and as he passed, he looked at the stairs that led down, deeper into the empty halls, deeper into the Underground. He stopped short and glanced back, cautiously peering around the corner back into the living room; Toriel had gone back to reading. Frisk quickly sashayed forward, down a few steps as quietly as he could.

The thought of avoiding conflict altogether fills you with determination.

The light rapidly disappeared as he dipped below the floor of Toriel's house and into the tunnels below, the tunnels that led outside. Before Frisk even reached the bottom, the sound of his steps echoed off the walls and cold stone floor, and he knew, instinctively, there was no way he could sneak out of the Ruins. And as if to validate his thoughts, he heard a heavier set of footsteps coming quickly down the stairs, and Toriel appeared from the stairwell, and she hurriedly walked to him and firmly, though not unkindly, grabbed his hand. "Come with me, Frisk," she said. "These tunnels are old, and dangerous. You should play upstairs instead."

"No."

The silence was so heavy, Frisk could actually feel it. Or perhaps he didn't like how quickly he refused to go. Toriel had frozen in place, though she was still holding his hand and had turned her head to look at him. She looked surprised, but Frisk could also see hurt and fear in her eyes. But he knew he had to leave, and quickly, so taking advantage of her shock, he wrenched his arm free and kept walking. Toriel, of course, was quick to follow, and interposed herself between him and the rest of the hall, but she placed her hand on his shoulder; perhaps in an effort to keep him in place and keep him calm at the same time. "My child," she began again, "please go back upstairs." Another pause. Neither one moved an inch, Frisk continued to stare up at her and Toriel continued to look down at him. He tried to look as nonthreatening as possible, pleading with his eyes, even though his hands were balled into fists. "The world...will not be kind to you...if you leave," Toriel said at length. "If you leave, some monsters may...they will not be kind to you."

"I know. That's why I need to leave," he replied as calmly as he could.

More silence. For a minute, Frisk believed he'd convinced her to stand aside when he saw her eyes widen and she glanced behind her at the darkness that swallowed the stone. But then she turned back to him, and he knew that some things never change. Toriel's face had been hardened like stone, she glared down at him and sternly commanded, "Go back to your room," before she turned and strode quickly down the hall and into the dark.

Frisk only stood there for a minute, stunned, before he recollected his thoughts and ran after her, just hoping his legs could get him to the exit before Toriel did anything drastic. He hit a bend to the left, turned and began running down a long, straight hallway. He noticed it inclined upward slightly, but it was a long hallway that he must have been on the same level as the rest of Toriel's home when he reached the end, maybe slightly higher. And just like before, he stopped in a large room with a double door hewn in stone on the opposite wall, and Toriel was standing in front of it, too, with her back to him. It became deathly silent; there wasn't even any wind this far down in the tunnels. Then, finally, Toriel spoke. "I am going to do what I should have done years ago," she stated. "I am going to seal these doors shut." She placed a hand on the doors, and small tongues of flame began to slip out from under her palm, flittering up for only a second before they burned out. "I have seen several humans fall down before you. All of them enter. All of them left." Toriel paused to take a deep breath, obviously needing to compose herself. "And then all of them died, because I let them leave. I will not make that same mistake again."

He'd heard this before. A hundred times; a thousand times. He understood her pain. He'd lost people, too. Not his children, but friends. He left them behind in white flashes of light because he hadn't saved everybody, and that was because he always had to leave one person behind. He took a step forward, his shoes clicking on the stone floor. Toriel must have heard him, because she started talking again. "Frisk...if you leave, he...Asgore...will kill you. I want to keep you safe." She shifted to look over her shoulder so that only one eye was visible, without turning away from the doors completely. "Please, go back inside."

He kept quiet, trying to find the words until he decided he should just speak from the heart. "I...I can't," Frisk replied plainly. "Someone's out there, waiting for me."

Another silence, but it didn't last as long as any that came before. Toriel sighed and said, "I will not let you wander aimlessly. Prove yourself…" With a flourish of her hand, she swung around and fire leapt from her hands as she spread them out. Gouts of flame exploded from the floor around the both of them, and Frisk covered his face to block the blasts of supernatural heat that accompanied them. In no time, a great inferno had coalesced around Toriel, and tongues of fire began to fly toward him, and Frisk heard her shout, "Prove to me that you are strong enough to survive!"

The heat was something Frisk remembered well; a long time ago, the fire had killed him. A long time ago, he had fought Toriel with everything he had, and regretted it so much afterward that he managed to throw himself back in time just to fix it. The ground under him started to glow, and Frisk quickly sidestepped to his left as a pillar of fire shot out from where he had been standing. Toriel's brow furrowed as she held out her hand and fireballs came screaming out of her grip. They sailed through the open air, and Frisk picked his head back up just in time to see them coming; he grimaced, clenched his teeth, and ducked down, jumped up, bent his upper torso backward to dodge another fireball, and then ran forward, weaved between several more, and then fell to his knees. He scrambled back up as fast as he could to see Toriel glaring down at him. "You will tire eventually. Fight back!" she chided as she raised her arm up over her head. A cyclone of fire spiraled out of her palm and began to rain down on Frisk.

He tried dodging all the wisps of flame as they rained down like hot coals, but there were too many coming too fast; it was inevitable he'd get hit. They burned when they did, but Frisk's clothes didn't catch fire due to the fact that the flames didn't burn long enough to cause lasting damage. Still, he could feel his health dropping, but, despite the pain, Frisk kept himself standing, feet planted firmly in one place and he covered his face to make sure nothing got in his eyes. When the firestorm subsided, he quickly patted his hair down just to make sure nothing was still burning. When he looked back up at Toriel, she was still glaring down at him. Frisk closed his eyes and breathed in. And then, he started walking forward.

"What are you doing?" Frisk heard her words, heard they were tinged with uncertainty, and he kept walking as if to simply walk through her and the exit like a ghost. More fireballs came, and while he tried to dodge them, he didn't do anything overly strenuous. A couple of them hit, knocking him backward and burning his chest, but he coughed and did his best to keep his balance. Frisk eventually righted himself, and kept walking. He was only several feet away from Toriel. "Go back upstairs, Frisk!" she shouted as she conjured another firestorm; he didn't listen. All Frisk did was glance up at her...and smile.

Weary, demure, but unbroken.

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide again in amazement and shock. She tried to scowl again, but Frisk could see in her posture that her heart wasn't truly in it. He stood up to full height, rolled his shoulders, and pressed forward again. More gouts of flame erupted from Toriel's hands and from the very ground under him, and Frisk did what he could to avoid the pillars of fire coming out from under him; he jumped from side to side, but always kept himself moving forward despite the heat, despite the fact he was sweating so much his sweater and shorts were practically stuck to him. He soldiered on through the blazing inferno that had engulfed the whole room before the exit to Snowdin Forest, and it never seemed to stop coming; he was getting closer to Toriel, but there was always something in the way. He got his with several fireballs; it set him back a few steps, but he forced himself back up to his feet and kept marching. The pillars of fire sidetracked him a couple times, then tongues of flame came raining down over him again. Frisk just covered his head, despite the fact his arms had also been burned and felt like they were on exceptionally sharp pins and needles. He kept walking, getting closer, even as the flames burned brighter, even as Toriel's attacks became more and more frequent. Eventually, Frisk stood in front of her, and as she opened her mouth to protest, he threw his arms around her in a hug.

All at once, the fires went out, the heat dissipated, and Frisk felt Toriel bend down to his level and hug him back. Her grip was tight and he could feel her shaking. The air was only stirred by the sound of muffled sobbing, so Frisk did what came naturally, and held her tight, too. They stayed there in the dusty silence, a mother and a wayward child, waiting for what came next. It took a few minutes before Toriel felt like her voice and cadence was under control enough to murmur, "You...truly are strong enough to survive."

Frisk frowned and squeezed his eyes shut as he buried his face in her neck, but only for a moment. "Toriel…" he said after a few seconds. Frisk pushed back slightly, enough that they could make eye contact, and he continued, "I'm not gonna kill. And I'm not gonna be killed."

It took awhile for his words to sink in, but when they did, Toriel beamed at him as a mother watching her child leave the house for the first time. A gaze mixed with pride, longing, and melancholy. She pulled him close again and held Frisk for a couple minutes. "Goodbye, my child," she whispered. Toriel kept holding him for another minute before she rose back up, hands clasped in front of her, staring down at him pleadingly. "Be good."

Frisk looked back up at her, letting the tears come naturally this time, after having forced himself to stay stoic a hundred-thousand times before. He sniffled and slowly walked past her, to those massive stone doors and stared at them before he placed each hand on one side and pushed. They didn't give easily; thousands of years of disuse and neglect tended to do that to even the most sturdy mechanisms, but Frisk powered through by sheer force of will.

There was a frigid blast of air that came up to meet his face and it was the most refreshing thing he'd ever felt. Frisk drank deep of it, like a man dying of thirst as he took a couple steps forward and into the outside world. Then, he opened his eyes to see the snowflakes gently dancing through the air and the hundreds of pine trees growing in the near-lightless conditions. Off to his left, he could see a bush, and could also easily perceive the camera hidden then. It wasn't so much "hidden" as it was crammed into the branches and some of the offshoots and leaves were half-concealing the lens. Then, Frisk let go of the doors and turned around. Toriel was still there, still gently weeping. Frisk smiled as warmly and as bravely as he could, and he waved as the stone gates shrunk Toriel's outline and then finally slammed shut.

He stood there for a few minutes, trying to get his emotions under control again, quietly crying into his sleeve, letting it flow instead of bottling it up. He knew it wouldn't be for much longer they'd have to keep doing this. After many long weeks (maybe months, maybe years) looping back on each other, these tears of sadness would finally turn to joy. Eventually, Frisk took a deep breath and turned around to look at the entrance to Snowdin Forest.

Quiet. Serene. Expansive. The trees stretched on seemingly forever. He couldn't help but smile, knowing he was that much closer to ending this journey, and with a determined fire burning passionately but controlled in his heart, he walked forward.

No time to waste. The End was coming. Destiny was calling.


A/N: A companion piece to a comic I'm drawing, detailing the events 15 years after the golden ending of the game. You can find it on deviantArt (at CaptainExtremis' page) and Tumblr ( .com).

A/N 2: Realized after writing chapter 27 that the original draft here didn't match up with what I had initially planned, so I changed it (whoops).