"Well, that's a little disconcerting," Frisk muttered as they stepped into the next room. There were three piles of burning leaves crackling away, leaving the room clogged with smoke. This set off a swarm of Whimsuns flying wildly through the air as they choked on the smoke or flew too close to the fires and had to flap away, yelping. To the left of them, two Whimsuns flew into each other and crashed to the ground, screaming and hurling insults as they wrestled around.

"Wow, I haven't so many monsters in one spot in the Ruins in ages," Flowey muttered.

"Smoke might have scared them out of hiding?" Frisk suggested, frowning as one slammed into a wall.

"Idiots," Flowey grumbled. "Don't worry about them—they're fools and cowards and they're easy to dodge."

Frisk frowned at the scene around them, but said nothing as they carefully sidestepped and ducked out of the way whenever a monster got too close. One Whimsun, however, wheeled through the air and nearly smacked into Frisk.

"Watch where you're going!" the little monster screamed, revealing rows of sharpened teeth that Frisk sure as hell didn't remember seeing in any other Whimsun's mouth. Too late to back out now, though—the world went black and white and Frisk's soul appeared before them. Whimsun chattered angrily, rubbing a singed wing as it glared up at them.

Watching the monster baby the wing, Frisk tried to smile and reached into their pocket. "Hey, I think I have something that can help you there. Do you want some-?"

Flowey gasped behind their shoulder. "Are you an idiot? Don't offer your enemy medicine!"

"You can't trick me!"Whimsun snapped and began to attack.

With a sigh, Frisk dodged and weaved through its attack. When it was done, they pulled out the bag and offered it a monster candy from inside. "Are you sure you don't want one? It'll help you out."

This time it paused, eyeing the bag with suspicion and longing as it rubbed its wing again. It mustered a weak growl and sent another attack, this one more pitiful than the last. One last time, Frisk offered it the bag wordlessly; this time its chin trembled for a moment before it reached out and snatched a candy before shoving it into its mouth. It moaned at the taste and then gasped as its health was restored. Gazing up at them with wide eyes, it fluttered in place. "Y-you… you really were trying to help me?"

Frisk smiled. "Of course. Do you feel better?"

Whimsun scowled and fluttered further back. "You—why would you do such a thing?"

"Really? Does everyone have to have an ulterior motive around here? Fine, if you really need a reason, let's say…" They paused and shrugged. "Let's say you were in my way."

The monster boggled at them. "In your… th-that… who on earth would treat their enemy such a way? I—I don't understand!" It cried and fluttered away, too confused to linger.

Frisk watched it go with an amused look on their face. "Well, that went well."

"I cannot believe that worked," Flowey muttered. "Oh god, now they're all staring at us."

True enough, the swarm of Whimsun were all watching, every one of their faces full of shock or confusion. As Frisk's gaze fell on them, they scrambled away, ducking out of sight behind debris or out of the room entirely.

"Tough crowd," Frisk murmured.

"Ugh, let's us get out of here. Down that way."

Obeying, Frisk walked out of the room, keenly aware of the many sets of eyes following them on the way out. The next room seemed simple enough, with no clear puzzle or trap in sight.

"The middle of the floor is weak in here," Flowey told them. "If you step on it, you'll end up downstairs." He shot them a serious look. "You don't want to end up down there."

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"There's nothing down there but an oubliette with spikes."

Frisk considered the floor with a healthier level of respect. "Duly noted. I'll just have to jump it."

"Just try not to fall through the floor."

After a running jump, Frisk cleared it without a second thought. Walking into the next room, there was another pause. Toriel had destroyed this puzzle too—the rock, for one, was stuck fast because the floor underneath had melted a long time ago, trapping the rock in place. Beyond it, the barrier of spikes were scorched and broken, some even pulled out of their tracks. Frisk picked their way through them and carried on.

The next room's trap was also alarmingly solved—the floor was missing except for the walkway. Rather than pause to wonder about it, Frisk just moved on. Their shoulders slumped to see that someone had solved the next room's puzzle as well through violence.

Before they could enter the next room, a Froggit ambushed them. Lunging at them, it sent a wave of fly shaped bullets before Frisk even knew what was happening.

Oh, what the hell is this—I get ambushed before I can even take a turn now? These monsters just don't know how to play fair, they thought, exasperated. Now, what worked on Froggit before? Complimenting them? Well, let's trying killing them with kindness. Once they got a chance at their turn, they flashed Froggit a winning smile. "That's quite the attack you got there. Do you work out?"

Rather than flatter the monster, it only flinched backward, confusion in every line of its body. Shaking the confusion off, it croaked angrily and fired another wave.

Well, that didn't work. Time to change tactics. Dodging all the bullets landed them directly in front of the Froggit who was horrified to see them so close. Landing in a crouch, Frisk shot Froggit a more unsettling smile. "Hey, when a person compliments you, you should thank them or compliment them back. Otherwise, the situation could turn unpleasant."

The Froggit promptly began to cower before them, trembling as it tried to back away. "Y-you," it began as it bumped into the broken spikes, leaving them nowhere else to go. "You have… nice… hair?"

Frisk paused—had an opponent ever actually complimented them back? Still, I'll take it as a good sign. Time to spare! They gave him a small smile and took a step back. "Why, thank you! If only everyone was so polite. Now, if you don't mind, I have places to be. Why don't we just forget this whole thing and be on our way?"

The Froggit eagerly nodded and then scampered away. Watching it flee, Flowey only shook his head. "Don't get cocky cause you managed to spare a couple fools. Sooner or later, you won't be able to escape the 'kill or be killed' way of this world."

"You're just a little ball of sunshine, aren'tcha, Flowey?" Frisked asked as they shook their head and danced around the broken spikes.

The next room was thankfully empty—Frisk took a moment to stop and dig out a dry pair of socks from their bag, tossing their wet ones into a side pocket nonchalantly. While their boots were still damp, they dried out fast enough that putting them back on was only unpleasant rather than blister threatening. Cheerful for their change in their more comfortable footwear, Frisk marched into the next room with high spirits.

For a moment, Frisk almost mistook the room for being empty. The only thing that seemed to be in the room was a pile of dead leaves in the middle of the floor. However, as they stepped closer, they spotted the faint outline of something vaguely ghost shaped. Frisk brightened. Napstablook! Oh goodness, I forgot, this is where I met them, wasn't it? God, that was so long ago. Well, time to meet another old friend.

Without a word, Frisk reached out and nudged the ghost with a toe. All they heard was Flowey's startled gasp, but before Frisk could glance back at him to figure out what his problem was, the shadow on the leaves went pitch black and whipped around to face them.

"DID YOU JUST TRY TO MOVE ME, ASSHOLE? I'm not in the mood!" the ghost shrieked, making Frisk yelp in surprise. They started to take a step back, but too late—the world went monochromatic again as the ghost floated upward.

"Holy shit," Frisk muttered. Where was the sweet but painfully shy monster they'd known? Alright, it was dumb of me to expect them to be the same as my Napstablook, but what the hell, man! He looks like he'd take my head off in a second. Shit, here he comes.

The ghost howled, his screams ricocheting off Frisk's soul, throttling it. Frisk managed a gasp, but barely kept themselves on their feet. Glancing down, they saw that the ghost had already drained their HP a quarter of the way down.

Well, this is going swimmingly. I gotta get him to calm down quick. Let's try to *Apologize. Selecting the Act, they cleared their throat and put on their most pleasant smile. "I'm sorry! I had no idea you were there."

This did nothing to satisfy the ghost. He roared again, his attack shaving more HP off. "Do I look like some idiot to you? I'll kill you!"

An eighth of their HP disappeared; Frisk grimaced. Uh, maybe *Flirt? "Hey, now, how could I ever mistake a dashing ghost like you for some idiot? Obviously, you're-"

Napstablook interrupted them with a scream, the attack pummeling them on all sides. "Buzz off, you little twerp!"

Now they only had half their health left, sending Frisk staggering. Shit, shit, shit! Okay, he has no interest in 'I'm sorry's or flirting. That leaves threats—ugh, but how'd that help me? He's a ghost so the only kind of attacks that work on him are-

The two combatants froze. Just a few rooms ahead of them, there was a familiar roar of frustration and the sounds of something else bursting into flames. Toriel must have realized that she missed Frisk and had doubled back.

"You… you're the one that got her in such a fit," Napstablook hissed, his outline distorting like a shudder.

Frisk blinked as an idea popped into their head. "Well… it was something like that. She's the type who'd get steamed if anyone—monster or otherwise—were to show up in her Ruins, no?" They smirked as Napstablook froze. Bingo—he's afraid of her. "Look, how about we call this whole thing off—after all, I don't think either of us want to get fried by her fire magic, do we?"

For a long moment, Napstablook only glared at them. He looked determined to attack, but then Toriel screamed again. He abruptly vanished, the world's colors returning a moment later.

Before Frisk could sigh in relief though, Toriel's angry cries snapped them back to attention. Scrambling forward, they ducked into the little alcove at the end of the room. Inside there was only spider webs, but each were empty and a faint burnt odor lingered in the room. Frisk frowned but went silent as they heard someone step into the room beyond. Biting their lip, they waited in agony until the footsteps went on, back the way Frisk had come. Perhaps Toriel had checked this room earlier on her first time through, but Frisk had obviously lucked out now.

"C'mon," Flowey whispered. "We don't have long—she'll be back in no time and she might check in here when she does."

"No kidding," Frisk grumbled, reaching into their pocket to get out their candy as they ducked back out into the other room; the rate they were going, they'd be out of candy in no time, but there was little they could do about that. The only other healing item they had on hand was too precious to use for such a little hurt. They sucked on their candy, sighing in relief as their health returned. They slid into the hall to the north of the room they had just fought in and nearly stumbled to a stop.

The long hall was empty, but that was for the best—there were new fires, no doubt caused by Toriel moments earlier, but what really gave them pause was the things lying next to the fires. Piles of ashy dust were scattered across the floor. The truth hit Frisk—the fires from before hadn't been a mistake. Toriel had been hitting monsters the entire time, leaving behind smoke and dust in each room. They shuddered. Oh god, does that mean that she might have hit a swarm of Whimsuns back at that first room? How many monsters has she killed just now while looking for me?

"Frisk!" Flowey hissed. "We have got to go!"

Licking suddenly dry lips, Frisk nearly croaked their words. "Y-yeah. Let's go."

They jogged forward in silence, trying to save their energy and not wanting to linger around each grim attack site. With each room they went through, Frisk bit their lip harder and tried not shudder. What was wrong with world? What happened to their sweet, kind mother? A mother who might have made mistakes—they shuddered at a lingering memory turned nightmare of fire—but such maliciousness just simply wasn't in their mother's character. I really am in some crazy nightmare world, aren't I? Oh god, if Toriel is like this, then what's the world like outside the Ruins?

They kept walking onward until they at last reached the old, barren tree that stood outside Toriel's house. It was odd, seeing that old familiar sight in this upside-down world, but looking at it filled Frisk with their old sense of determination again.

"This is Toriel's house," Flowey whispered. Frisk considered telling him that they knew, but decided against it. "We're going to have to get through here and head out through the basement. Down there is a door that leads out of the Ruins. Just go straight ahead, okay?"

Frisk frowned. "I'm going to look around first."

"Are you—ugh, why do I even ask anymore? Of course, you're crazy. You're going to get the two of us killed."

"No, I won't." They took a deep breath. "Look, I just—if I can find out more about this world, then it'll be all the more likely I'll be able to help clear up this mess. Just… just trust me on this."

"You really are going to get us killed… just… just do want you like."

"Have a little faith, Flowey. That's all I ask." Squaring their shoulders, they walked in. Stepping in, they were a little surprised to find how clean the foyer was, but it looked barren in comparison to the one from Frisk's youth. There was no furniture, no flowers in the hall. Frowning, Frisk poked their head into the living room—again, the only furniture in the room was an old rocking recliner. There were no bookcases or table. Stepping back out, they paused and then hurried to the other side of the house.

First up, the fallen children's room; taking a deep breath, they opened the door and cautiously peeked in. To their surprise, the room was nearly identical to the one they remembered. A comfy looking bed, piles of toys, a box filled with different sized shoes—aside from being a little dusty, the room was much the same as they remembered it. Baffled, they stepped out of the room and shut the door. Taking a steadying breath, they walked over to Toriel's room.

The room was dark and spartanly furnished. A bed that had seen little use stood in one corner, an old desk sitting at the end. There, on the desk, were some old books. Only one of them was free from dust. Cautiously, Frisk closed the door behind them—rather than turn the light on, Frisk used their phone's flashlight to guide them to the desk.

It was a little journal—flipping it open, they realized it was a diary. Reluctantly, they flipped to the front and peeked at the first entry.

My children are dead. That fool of a king dares to sully their memory by his new edict, but I will not allow him. I've taken Chara and buried them here where they will be among the flowers they loved.

Frisk nearly tossed the diary down then and there. Taking a deep breath, they read on, trying to skim past the more private thoughts.

*You feel like a disgusting voyeur. But you need to know what caused the once kind queen to go down this path.

Frisk paused, but there was no time. Skipping through the next few pages that consisted mostly of half remembered jokes, they find a new entry.

A small child fell into the Ruins today. A tall, sweet boy by the name of Michael. I found him being cornered by some Moldsmals. He tried to act tough and brave, but after I frightened them away, he cried into my arms. When I told him he could stay with me, he hesitated but agreed once I told him that he could have all the pie he wanted there. He's a silly thing, but already our home is warmer for him being there. For the first time in a long time, I feel closer to whole.

Frisk's heart hurt. Guiltily, they skimmed past the next few entries, but stopped at a particularly tearstained page.

Michael insisted I tell him how to escape from the Ruins. Despite my concerns, I let him convince me that he would be fine out there. That it was time for him to go home. I know that he'd never be happy here for long, but I already miss him dearly.

I pray that Asgore has seen the foolishness of his ways and will let poor Michael past the barrier. He isn't meant for this gloomy place.

Skipping ahead, Frisk's heart thudded dully at a short entry.

I overheard a Migosp say that Asgore had a new human soul. I pray that this stupid creature was only lying.

Pausing, Frisk closed their eyes and flipped forward into the diary. Skimming hard, they learned more names of the other humans and of their personalities—the confident ballerina, the persistently curious bookworm, the wild but driven cowboy wannabe, the kind chef in training, and finally the gentle jokester. Over time, the entries between the arrival of each human grew grimmer. By the time the last child arrived, Toriel believed every monster in the Ruins was actively seeking to murder her newfound children. The last child, a shy but patient little girl of four, didn't seem to have any of intention of ever leaving their foster mother's side. Frisk only frowned as they skimmed through nearly two months worth of entries where Toriel actually seemed to brighten a little.

Abruptly, the happiness vanished.

A pack of monsters kidnapped my child. I've searched all throughout the Ruins—now I've learned that rumors have spread throughout the rest of the Underground that Asgore will have a new soul.

That makes six souls.

He shall not have another. Monsters do not deserve to walk out of here and into the sunshine anymore. I will never allow them to harm another child, so help me.

As for the monsters here in the Ruins, I shall make them pay for what they have done to my poor child. No one shall escape me.

There were more pages, but they left Frisk's heart hurting and their stomach clenching—they were filled with dark wishes and grim tallies of monsters Toriel had killed inside the Ruins. Always, the persistent belief that monsters didn't deserve the surface cropped up, as if Toriel was becoming a fanatic to her own thoughts. Monsters were murders and thieves, but more so, they were a threat to humans. Toriel held contempt for human adults, but she didn't hold the unholy rage for them that she held for monsters.

Finally, Frisk came to the last entry, one from the day before. A rather short entry, barely four sentences long.

Tomorrow will be the anniversary of Chara's arrival in the Underground. I haven't been out to tend to their flowers lately, but I plan to go there tomorrow. Rubble has been blocking the way—I don't know who put it there, but I've been leaving it in place for awhile in hopes that it would keep monsters away from Chara, to make sure they aren't disturbed. I'll decide tomorrow if I want to bake a pie for the occasion or not.

Flowey snorted over their shoulder—Frisk was sure he meant it to be a scornful sound, but it sounded more like a wet sniff than anything. "So she does remember Chara. That's a surprise."

Frisk shot him a sharp glance, shutting the diary with a snap. "She's done all this in the memory of her children. Don't be unkind." Somewhere in the depths of their skull, something stirred. Whatever it was though, it vanished after a moment and Frisk forgot to care.

The flower shifted, but one look at his pout showed it wasn't because he felt scolded.

Rather than start a fight, Frisk dropped the diary back on the desk and turned off the light on their cell phone. "Well, I've learned all I think I'll need. Let's get out of here."

"Finally," Flowey sighed, perking up again. "We need to get going before she comes back."

Quietly, Frisk slipped out of the room and hurried back to the foyer. Grabbing the handrail as they started down the stairs, Frisk nearly slipped at the now familiar sound of an explosion outside. Frisk head snapped upward, but they hesitated for a second before they scrambled down the stairs, pausing only once their head was safely out of view. Pressing their back to the wall, the human and flower listened in panicked silence as the front door slammed open.

Above them, Toriel was breathing hard, although Frisk wasn't sure if it was from excursion or from sheer anger. They waited as she stood in the foyer, but at last she moved off to the left, into the living room. Was she still searching for them, or had she perhaps finally given up? There was no time to investigate. The moment her breathing faded, Frisk slowly inched their way down the rest of the stairs. Once they were safely on the lower floor, they crept down the corridor.

Because there was no door to the basement, Frisk didn't dare bolt down the long hall. Fighting instincts, Frisk kept their pace as brisk and silent as possible.

All for nothing though—halfway down the hall, just after they turned the corner, something big and heavy pounded down the stairs behind them. Whatever clue she'd found, Toriel knew where they were or at least had a good guess where to check.

"Run," Flowey gasped and Frisk obeyed.

Abandoning stealth for speed, Frisk hurtled down the hall, not caring a wit if Toriel heard them—which she must have because now Frisk could hear her thundering after them. Still, Frisk wasn't a short eight year old anymore, but at twenty four had been graced with long legs that ate up the distance.

There was the door, waiting patiently to be opened. Frisk would have smiled in relief if a fireball hadn't shot straight over their right shoulder to explode against the wall. Yelping, Frisk weaved to the side to avoid the shower of embers. They were off balance, but before they could correct themselves, another fireball fell past, aimed at where their head had just been. They tripped, falling forward, but put their hands down in time to catch themselves. Pushing themselves up, they launched themselves forward. They bobbed and weaved down the corridor until an explosion of fire by their feet made them jump into the small room in front of the door. Perhaps Toriel had grown tired at aiming for their top half and was trying to cut them down at the feet, but another blast slammed into their back and knocked them down.

Flowey shrieked in fear as Frisk's backpack caught aflame. Using his roots like tentacles, he skittered over their shoulder and clung to their shirt by its straps.

Gritting their teeth, Frisk yanked the backpack off and tried to roll it against the ground to extinguish the flames. While they did snuff the flames out, they winced when they realized that the bag was unsalvageable. All they could hope for was that some of the things inside had survived.

Soft padding paused behind them, freezing them in place before Frisk slowly turned.

*The Caretaker has caught up with you. There is no escape from her.

Toriel scowled down at them, flames still wreathing her fingers. "I have to admit. You were one of the most frustrating humans I've come across in my entire life."

Frisk paused before smiling thinly back. "Well, that's not that surprising. I'm told I often leave a strong impression."

Toriel snorted.

Time for a gamble. "So, I'm only one of the more frustrating humans you've ever met? So, there's been others just as bad as me? Michael, perhaps? He sounded pretty willful."

It was Toriel's turn to freeze, pupils shrinking to pinpoints. "What did you say?"

"What are you doing?" Flowey hissed, trembling.

Gently, Frisk reached up and cupped him in their hand—if Toriel attacked, they could throw him to the side, let him escape during the chaos. "Had a little free time, you know. I decided to see if there was anything of interest. Found a diary."

The fires around Toriel's hands burned brighter. "You—you dare-!"

"Toriel, I know that you used to help the human children that fell down here. You protected and cared for them in this world when no one else would," they said, trying to keep their voice gentle and a tad pleading. "You loved them. But more than that, you hate other monsters. So why attack me now? I have no wish to harm you. Wouldn't I have done so before now? All I want is to leave."

Toriel frowned, shifting her weight from one leg to another, the fire never dimming. "I helped human children. You, on the other hand, are not a child."

"Fair enough, but I still have no issue with you. Why not let me go?"

Toriel paused, considering them. "Do you honestly think that I'm going to let you walk out of here—here where a human is probably safest?" Her eyes darkened at her own words. "Even this place isn't safe for humans. If you read my diary, you know what has happened to every child that has fallen down."

"I do. I know about the six souls."

"Then you know that with your own, Asgore would have seven souls."

"Enough to free monsters," Frisk nodded grimly, more to just prove that they had indeed read the diary. "But that's only if they got a hold of my soul." They set their jaw and faced her head on. "And I have no intention of letting them have it."

For a long stilted minute, Toriel looked at them, examining them from head to toe. It felt like a test, like the battle that Frisk had had with their own mother long ago. Finally, Toriel spoke, her tone slow, almost begrudging. "You have managed to survive the monsters here in the Ruins. But that's no grand accomplishment—I've weeded out the monsters here, but out there, there'll be many more monsters, not like the weak cowards around here. No matter how many you fell here, the monsters out there will not be as easily taken down."

She thinks I've been murdering monsters along the way here, Frisk thought and tried not to shudder.

*Still, this could work to your advantage. You decide to play along.

"Maybe. But then, I did outrun you. And you are no weakling."

Toriel looked unimpressed. "Flattery will not sway me." Still, she fell silent, thoughtful. After a long moment, the fires that flickered around her hands died. "Still, the idea is not without merit. A human on the warpath—a fully grown human at that—throughout the Underground could carve a path to Asgore that would leave you strong enough to strike him down. You could, in fact, finally break us free of this cycle of death."

Flowey shivered in Frisk's hand; absently, Frisk rubbed a circle against one of his leaves before realizing that Toriel might see it as a weakness and stopped. Still, Frisk could clearly remember the prophecy of the Delta Rune ringing in their memories. Toriel intended to make them the Angel of Death, to purge the Underground in the name of her fallen children.

Taking Frisk's silence as agreement, Toriel's face softened for a moment; for that brief instant, Frisk thought they could see their mother peering out of the broken eyes of the monster before them. "I have only one condition. After you kill Asgore, before you pass through the barrier, release the souls of my children. Let them finally be at peace."

In the quiet silence that followed, as Frisk nodded their agreement, a thoughtful voice spoke in the back of their mind.

*In spite of everything, Toriel is still a mother to the last.

"I will," Frisk spoke, their voice sounding like breaking glasses, intrusive and unwanted to their own ears.

Toriel, however, only nodded. "Then go. Go, and bring justice to this forsaken land."

With a polite and precise bow, Frisk turned, grabbing their ruined bag before hurrying out the door, before Toriel changed her mind. Once on the other side, Frisk shut it and tried to hold back a sigh. Digging their phone out of their pocket, the examined the bag. It really was ruined—there was a giant hole in the front. Inside, half the contents were scorched—Frisk's damp socks had helped save a special bottle of monster medicine to Frisk's relief, but all the food they packed was ruined. So had some of their hiking equipment and maps. All that was left besides the medicine was a half empty pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a spare pair of gloves, and some useless odds and ends. Casting aside the bag and the more useless items, Frisk slipped the what they could into their pockets, even if it left them uncomfortably full.

"Frisk," Flowey whispered after a moment—there was silence on the other side of the door, but neither were entirely certain that Toriel had left just yet. "Frisk, are you really going to kill Asgore?"

"No," they answered bluntly, as they straightened. "I'd never harm another soul, even if it kills me."

"Don't speak like that," Flowey scolded, but his voice had no bite to it. Instead, he only looked up at them, questioning. "You said that you'd save the human souls."

"I don't have to kill Asgore to do that," they murmured, walking away from the door, to the other door at the other end of the room. "I will get through the Underground. I am going to face him. But I'm going to talk him. I'm going to do my best to make him call off this 'kill or be killed' nonsense. And then I will free the human souls—hopefully after they help me break the barrier."

"How can they help?"

Frisk paused to shrug and smile down at him. "Dunno. I'll figure that out when I get there."

Flowey was quiet for a moment. "…I knew you were crazy."

"Yeah, yeah. But I'm also honest. I didn't tell Toriel I'd kill Asgore, only that I'd not be killed by him and that I would free the human souls. And I am. If I remember this right, it's a long walk ahead of us, so I have plenty of time to think about it." They paused and glanced down at him. "Unless you want me to drop you off somewhere. You don't have to come with me if you don't want."

Flowey frowned and glanced away. "I… I do think you're crazy. But then, you got past the Ruins and Toriel and you didn't kill anyone. You seem to know more than you possibly could about weird things, so maybe you really did come from another world." He paused, looking back up at them. "I doubt you can do it, going through this place without compromising those morals of yours even once. But… but on the off chance that maybe… maybe you could cause things to change around here…" Finally, he smiled just a little. "Well, that'd be something I'd be interested in seeing."

Frisk smirked back at him. "Well then, bud, stick with me and I'll show things you've never seen before."

"Like what?"

Carefully, they offered him their shoulder. He crawled onto it, wrapping his roots around the straps of their tank top. Once he was secure, they smiled. "I'm going to show you a world of mercy."He laughed a little, shaking his head, but they only huffed a laugh back at him. "Just you wait, Flowey, you'll see."

They turned to the door and reached for the handle, thinking to themselves as they wrapped their fingers around it. You too, Chara. I'm sure that even this world is one worth saving. I'll show it to you.

*…

*You open the door. But what is waiting for you on the other side? A world of murderous monsters or one that can be redeemed?

*Either way. Knowing you have a long journey ahead and only a single ally at your side, you take your first step forward, filled with DETERMINATION.

A/N: For the time being, I'm going to try and update every Wednesday. No hard promises on keeping that schedule, but expect another chapter next Wednesday. That said, I'm pegging this story to be about nine or so chapters, and I've written up to four so far.