2018, Outside . . .

"Thomas J. Clinton."

Frisk watched as someone was starting to check on everyone and their spot. They were checking names down as they passed. "Harold F. Richmeuth. Lillith T. Sport. Frisk. D . . .Nation?"

Frisk looked toward them back. Oh great, he was doing that? "Here." The person stared at her. "Yes?"

"Frisk Determi Nation?" He looked at her up and down, saying her whole middle name. "I get it, but I need your real name."

Great. Her father probably put her name down like that for bonus points or something. Frisk looked toward him. "Frisco Eternity Nation. Frisk Nation is usually what I'm called."

"Your last name is Nation?"

"Yes."

"And your middle name is Determi or Eternity?"

"My official middle name is Eternity, everyone calls me that. My dad likes Determi sometimes." Frisk looked back at the video game machine. Frisk. Determi, the middle name her dad always wanted her to have. Her saying. Her first and last name. Her sweater. Her hair color. It has to all be one big coincidence. The game was released two years ago. I've been me since I was born. There's just no way. It has to be one gigantic coincidence.

Undertale was fun to play. Having the game use her favorite words. The little character wearing her own clothes, and even having her name. It was kind of funny at first, but now it was becoming annoying. Everyone thought she was cosplaying or cheating. No one wanted to look her in the eye.

It doesn't matter what anyone thinks or how coincidental it is. I am still me and I have the determination to get this done. Perhaps her father didn't put it in the kindest of words, but none of these players looked like they'd be serious competition. Every time Frisk saw her father, it was time to play a game. Her father had her and her brother play a little of everything. From action games of horror to makeup games with dolls. She needed to know the games inside and out. From gentle to hardcore, he wanted her to experience every game. See every action. He wanted her to play them in every way possible, to determine all outcomes and endings, no matter how small or insignificant.

Even when she could barely talk, her father said he had her holding a controller. As a child, she still had to play the games that scared her. Some traumatized her with their intense graphics. Silent Hill as such a young child, not even in school yet, it gave her nightmares. So many things, yet he didn't want her to put anything away. She had to experience everything. The harder, the better. Even her brother? He had to play girly games, twirling games, princess games, and everything else. No matter how it hurt his ego. Didn't matter. Everything.

People were falling out of the competition left and right. Those with the lowest averages were ejected one by one. Frisk kept going. The competition she did have was still behind her all of the way. While she was finishing up her last game, she realized that she couldn't hear any more buttons or sounds around her. Only from her own video game machine.

She heard someone say her name, and as she heard clapping, she stopped. She won already. Frisk received a trophy and heard all kinds of things from the other players. Things from 'how were those scores even possible' to 'she must have cheated, that's not humanly possible'.

But it was possible. In fact, Frisk was a little disappointed that there just wasn't any serious competition. However, she did win a chance to play in a winner's circle. A place where the winners of the general competitions would get together and play again.

However, her father didn't seem to dwell on that as much. "Are you ready for the 3d game of your life, Frisk? Do you know how rare it is to get this opportunity?"

Rare? Every city that held the competition would get a winner who would win a chance to play the beta simulator game. In fact, she could have played the '3d game of her life' last year, but her father didn't allow it yet. Then, her and T. could have been playing together. "I could be up against real winners, dad," Frisk said to him. "That sounds cooler."

"Yes. Exciting I'm sure." He patted her shoulder. "They are going to take you back soon. Listen. Remember what I said."

"I remember," she answered as she was escorted toward the back.

"So, your name is actually Frisk?" The person walking with her asked as they brought her to the center of a large room. "That's bizarre."

"Yeah, I guess," Frisk said. She didn't lend anymore to that conversation. "So, I get to play more people in three months?"

"Yes, we'll send you details," he said as three more people came over. "You can expect some heavy competition. This isn't any average 3d playing. Better get your skills up. Okay, Betty over there is going to go over risks with you before you start your game. Oh, and your dad is watching you through the window over there on your right." He gestured to it.

Risks? Frisk watched as a woman with the name badge Betty came toward her.

"Congratulations on winning," she said briefly. "My name is Betty and I want to go over some cautionary notes with you." The room started to become dimmer. "One day in the next ten years I'm sure some sort of version of this 3d exhibit gameplay will be going out, but not in this way. If you feel any stress, or if you forget that you are in fact playing a game, then I want you to hit the button in your right hand." She gave Frisk a joystick with a large button in her right hand. "It's there. If you want it in your left hand instead, that's fine. Just remember that button." She ticked off her fingers. "Do not just yell for help. That I'm sure would be embarrassing. Do not yank off the goggles. It will interfere on your mind and it could cause damage. If you need to leave the game, just hit the button in your hand. Do you understand?"

"Button in my hand." Frisk looked toward the button. Dad specifically said to take off the goggles though. "This must be an intense setup."

"Extremely intense. Several gamers forget that they are just playing the game," she warned her. "Technology has come a great distance from the simple VR games. I don't think people realize just how far it has come. So remember. Button in your hand. If for some reason you forget and you cry out for help because you forget it is a game, then someone will come and help you."

"Okay," the man that escorted Frisk down before strapped her into the middle of the room with wires on her forehead. "If we perceive anything wrong with the system, then we will also shut down the game. Now that you've been properly informed, don't worry. You are perfectly safe. Your mind is safe. No one has been hurt or suffered any long term damage." He chuckled. "In fact, that is why the competition can get really fierce. Once you've had a taste of the reality of a game world, it's hard not to want more."

"Yeah," said a third person in the room that had been working alongside the walls. "Besides, it's not gonna hurt you any more than your game system at home or whatever. Just a lot of caution 'cause no one wants to get sued. She's all set over here." He left the room.

Frisk took a pair of goggles that the only man left gave her.

"Just remember. Don't take those off. It probably won't 'cause any damage, but it's best to be safe than sorry," he warned her. "Oh, and you should hit the button on the side so you have night vision inside the game."

The woman held out a piece of paper to Frisk. "Your father already signed this for you since you are a minor too."

Frisk looked at the signature. Yes. That was her dad's signature. It's probably like the guy on the side said. Just in case. Anyone can sue for almost anything, they are just covering themselves. Her father must have had time to look at it. He wouldn't just sign anything that was completely experimental. Besides, several gamers have already played. This is fine. She signed it and the lady took off.

Over precaution. That's all it was, over precaution. Now. To find out just how far technology could go.

2018, Inside . . .

Frisk looked around herself. Whoah. She had played Virtual Reality before, but this was definitely different. She could tell right away why players could forget they were playing a game. She stared above herself. Purple darkness so thick that she couldn't even see the top of the cave. In fact, the ruins of the stage were extremely dark.

Bleh. She raised her hand. It felt like something slimy. Oozy on the floor.

She hit the button on the side of her goggles. She could see a little better. However, it wasn't really the graphics that were impressing her. This can't be it. They messed up the game request.

That couldn't have been Undertale. The cute little purple ruins and walkway smelled of death and rotten eggs. Did they make Resident Evil into a 3d game beta simulator? Oh no, she did not want to play that in 3d. She tried to prop herself up on her hands. She was laying on her side? She rolled over on her side. She knew she was resting on top of flowers. She could feel them beneath her, crumpling You can't feel in a game. They are adding some kind of sensation as I am laying down. Although, when did she start lying down? She got up and started to head off.

The floor was cold, real cold, and squishy. That ooze. She could even feel it through her shoes. On her skin. It felt like it was dripping off the ceiling. Resident Evil, someone shoved me in Resident Evil. She looked back toward where she lied.

The only thing that didn't make sense about it being Resident Evil was the classic yellow flowers she just rolled off of. That was never in that game. Of all the things that she could see, they were the only objects that looked pure and clean, although rumpled from being laid on.

Frisk continued to walk and then watched as something came out of the ground.

A flower. Like everything else, it didn't look half as clean as the ones she had fallen on. It was . . . yellow maybe? With sickening vines that looked thorny. The expression was a dead giveaway, it matched everything in the game. It was her first encounter with Flowey the Flower.

She tried to remember his voice. The one thing everyone at school really wanted to know, was how everyone really sounded. Since there was no words, no one knew. Not in the whole game except one line of dialogue from Flowey further on. Would he sound that same way?

Light actually. Almost airy. It was reminiscent to how he spoke once before. It was the same line she had memorized over and over. Greeting her. Knowing she was new to the Underground. Yada yada.

It felt more than a little weird when the game brought out her soul in front of her. Well, a heart. It wasn't possible to bring out souls after all. Her little red player heart was out there like a stage, along with numbers and a board she knew quite well.

When Flowey tried to strike her, she of course didn't even flinch, knowing Toriel would come. Except, it made the whole ruins shake, and Frisk swore she felt her own heart hurting. She was too young for heartburn, but that's what she imagined it felt like when he hit her.

She was glad when she saw a familiar looking fireball soar at Flowey. It wasn't just a simple off screen shot though. He screamed in agony as his face contorted and he sunk into the ground like he was half made of the oozy substance that covered the disgusting ground.

She moved off of the icky ground and looked toward Toriel. She looked so real. She smelled so . . . the whole environment wasn't pleasant, but Toriel actually reeked like mildew on clothes. Why put that smell in? Why enhance all these smells so bad? Frisk thought Toriel would smell like lavender or something motherly if they wanted to use smells in the game. Why would they choose that? She smells like wet dog. Absolutely raunchy!

Frisk wanted to cover her nose. The game designers really wanted to show off their smells, but it was making it harder to concentrate on the actual game.

"Oh?" The character Toriel said to her. She stepped closer, and Frisk could see all of the matted fur. Toriel wasn't a lovely grey, she was dark grey with 'stuff' stuck all throughout her fur. Yet, she still looked like she was better off than the rest of the ruins. The purple on her outfit though, that was almost completely black. "You must be a human child, you are wearing a striped shirt."

Frisk looked at her shirt then slowly reclined backward as the tall goat bent forward to her. She was three times her size. Why did they make her so big?

Frisk touched her own chin. This was peculiar. Very peculiar. Neither Flowey nor Toriel were speaking her language, but she still understood them. How in the . . .

Frisk followed the usual course. The butterscotch pie presented to her. Oh, it smelled so good, finally something nice. She wished she could have eaten it for real. It almost felt like she could. But, she had a job to do.

Continuing on, she was soon in battle with Toriel. Except that when she hit her? It. Hurt. It felt like it hurt. Once Toriel accepted her and let her pass, Frisk still felt like she had sunburns on her body. As she continued down the eerie hallway, she reached a door.

A blast of snow hit her square in the face! My imagination. Just a game. She stepped out and felt the snow on her feet. It feels like snow. This is a game. This isn't snow. My feet aren't getting wet. I-I'm not cold. I'm not freezing. I'm not f-freezing! Could they turn down the reality a little bit? She really did feel like she was walking through snow and freezing her poor butt off.

She put her light away. The snow in the game seemed to radiate more than enough on its own. What was the temperature in there? It was worse than waiting for a bus and forgetting your jacket.

She saw the large stick in front of her. She passed it, knowing the character Sans would step on it, and then try to greet her. At least the air was smelling better than inside the ruins. She heard the stick break but didn't bother looking back. She saw the predictable bridge ahead of her.

However, her mind was starting to run away. That looks really old. That has a thousand splinters in it. How is that still working? Then she remembered. It's just a game, Frisk. Walk across it. It can't fall or hurt you. You can't hurt yourself in a game. Yet, her mind was still screaming that it didn't want to walk across it.

But then, she felt her body stop. Like, stop. Nothing could move. I can't breathe! Her breath, it was gone. She couldn't yell. She couldn't scream. Instead, her mind was starting to soar again. Oh yeah. Sans didn't hurt Frisk because he made a promise to Toriel in the game. Would he still have any compassion? Would he try to strike her? Okay, wait. Think. Why am I even worried? It's just a game. Why? Why was the worry so deep?

Would she be able to convince her mind that she was okay? I should eject. No, no. Dad wants me to touch Sans' hand, then take the goggles off. She didn't want to disappoint him for the same reason she chose Undertale in the first place. If she messed this up, he would just have Frisk T. compete instead next time and tell her how she couldn't compare.

He was good at doing that, getting them to compete for his affection. Still, knowing the truth didn't change anything. Just don't do anything wrong. Did they do something to her brain? Is that what made the game so real?

"Human." A voice. Deep. Was that the character Sans? She always imagined it would be more friendly. Several youtubers had always given him a sound more like he was from Brooklyn or something. She also heard more of a lazy, relaxed deep cartoon like voice being used for him too.

That voice? It was not cartoony. At all and it didn't sound like he was going to give her the chance to do what she needed to.

And her brain was screaming to get out! This was the first scary part in the actual light hearted game, and so far she'd been through nothing but horror. Getting hit and feeling her heart hurt, over and over. So, she took the initiative, forced herself to turn around . . . except she couldn't move. I forgot! I really can't move? She struggled against it. She wasn't moving. She couldn't move her body, what were they doing?

It couldn't be legal. The people behind the game she was playing, they had to be doing something to her brain. Gave her something. This wasn't a game. It just couldn't be. She couldn't move her body. She couldn't even feel her body that well, it felt like it fell asleep!

"Turn around."

Finally, Frisk felt herself being turned around. When she looked toward the character, she didn't know what to do. Just like Toriel. There was nothing retro. There were no 'just a few pixels' creating Sans. He was a 3d odorific skeleton. The light from his eyes that she remembered from the game were really just lights in empty sockets. Small, tiny lights. More than that, his blue coat was stained red. Ketchup or blood? That was never in the game! His smell was even worse, almost gagging. And his white bones? What white?! He was grey and spongy, he looked more like a mummy than a Skeleton. No. Not real. She needed to settle down. She needed to-

She felt his magic lift from her, and in that second, she saw his bony hand. Grey and slimy and- oh gaw, she would have nightmares on what they did to that poor game!- she did what she was supposed to. She grabbed the bony hand and took off her goggles.


2018, Outside . . .

The bony hand felt like oozy plastic. Weird. What was weirder was that her eyes were still adjusting after the goggles were off. She still saw the character Sans in front of her. It made sense, it was an intense game, and she exited how her father had wanted to, not as the game people wanted her to.

Sans didn't have any kind of light in his eyes this time. Frisk moved away from the goggles and the whole center of the room, letting go of the bony hand as she realized that sensation and visualization should have disappeared by now.

Her eyes still didn't adjust. He was still there. The rest of the game was gone, but he was still there.

"Frisk. Come on." Frisk heard her father's voice come from the door beside her. He was standing there in front of the funky smelling, mummified looking Sans. He looked straight at it, like he expected it to be there. "Don't do anything to my daughter. You know a single human soul could kill 400 of your monster souls in one whack if it wanted to."

What? Why? Why was he speaking to . . . "Dad?"

The character Sans turned his skull toward her dad, like he was looking at him. It moved. It's still moving outside the game? The light still wasn't in his eye sockets, but it seemed to 'stare' at her father, like it actually heard him.

"Having said that, I'm not an enemy." Her father approached him steadily closer. "There are no battle encounterings up here, so please relax. No one is here to fight you."

Whether he loosened up or not, Frisk couldn't tell. However, the character did speak. This time, she got a much better impression of his voice. It wasn't an upbeat kind of voice, it was baritone but still held that no nonsense tone to it. In fact, she couldn't quite place what it sounded like. It was new to her, but it did speak just a little slower than a regular person. "Humans aren't exactly friends of monsters."

"Of course not," her father said. "Humans massacred every single monster, and buried the rest of you from ever being found. Until now." Her father held out his hand to the game character. "I am Ben Nation, an ancient descendant of Gaster's elder Brother, Blaster Nation."

I'm . . . I'm . . . insane? Am I going insane? "Daaaaad?" Frisk looked around herself.

"No one else is coming, Frisk," her father answered her, but still didn't take her eyes off of Sans. "We took care of them, but we need to get out of here quickly." Her father directed his speech toward Sans again. "We don't have much time, and they'll figure it out soon. It comes down to two options. You either come with Frisk and me, or you are about to get hammered by a hundred scared human souls who'll kill yours before they even understand what they are doing."

Frisk felt her dad grab her arm and he started to run with her. Behind them, she heard a strange light clanking on the floor as they started to flee.

What was going on?

What did her dad do?

And why the heck was he talking to the character Sans like he was real?

And how could he be real?!

A dream. This is a dream. This is a complete dream. It must be the night before the whole thing. Yeah, that's it. A dream. She felt her father shove her into the back of the car. She felt the car start to move. There were voices, trying to speak but she couldn't make it out . . .