Hey! Fanfiction net's formatting is really confusing me and I had to give up a feature (strikethroughs) to get it on here. If you can, I'd recommend popping over to AO3 to better follow this story.
It was strange.
It was...really strange.
The look they gave her, it looked so much like admiration.
Like the look Asgore gave her way back when she landed her first blow on him.
Which was honestly the last thing she expected. She expected shock. Or, more likely, stony resolve. Or maybe even hate. The part of her that cared at all about the why assumed the human must have so much hate in order to kill all of the monsters they came across.
Enough hate to kill a couple of dogs.
Enough hate to kill a freaking kid.
Enough hate to kill...
But they looked at her like they were amazed. Proud?
They looked at her like they believed in her.
It was really messed up.
They took a moment to appraise her, their eyes wide and impressed as they looked at her armor, her eye. In doing so, they let her have the first real move.
So she attacked.
And that was strange too. It was pretty clear they knew how to handle a soul shield. They blocked the first few blows just fine. But when she got serious...
They seemed stunned when she landed her first blow. Like they hadn't experienced hurt like that in a while, if ever. Which made sense. When you kill enough monsters, it gets easier to kill them. So they probably hadn't had a real fight since back when they had started.
Naturally, they attacked. And again they looked stunned when she didn't instantly fade into particles of dust, or at least show any sign of injury or fatigue. And when she managed to throw her own attacks again, the human got lost in them and collapsed.
Stupid human. They should have realized she wasn't kidding.
They were gonna have to try harder than that.
Their eyes opened for the first time that she saw as they rushed to pull Kid back up the cliff, not paying her any mind. She was thankful that her armor hid her expression because it would be bad if the human saw her face now that it was filled with...a really indescribable expression. As she ran off, she tried rationalize it in her head (that coward of a human, hiding behind their friend, how shameless, how weak) but she knew she had already lost at something before even engaging them.
The look they gave her, it looked like...
Like fondness twinged with secondhand embarrassment. Like the look she gave Papyrus when he looked especially proud of an easy-to-solve puzzle.
(Back when Papyrus was still alive, before they slaughtered him and his neighbors.)
They attacked quickly and they barely left a dent. They didn't seem too surprised. She wondered if the form she thought was so revolutionary, so unique, was nothing new to this human. Maybe they'd brushed up on their history.
They weren't surprised when she faked them out with a slow start, either. They must have been an expert. They looked small, harmless, wearing a tutu and ballet shoes, of all things, but they were pretty competent, dealing blows with only small mistakes. Maybe they were trained back on the surface?
Still, that didn't do them any good. They knew what to expect, they didn't underestimate her, but they were quickly overwhelmed.
They lost to her. They didn't stand a chance. Undyne didn't know how to feel. It was her first LOVE, but she already felt so detached. She couldn't feel bad for this. It was for the good of the kingdom.
She'd have to tell Asgore. Wh-
They lost to her. They didn't stand a chance. Undyne didn't know how to feel. It was her first LOVE, but she already felt so detached. She couldn't feel bad for this. It was for the good of the kingd-
They lost to her. They didn't stand a chance. Undyne didn't know how to feel. It was her first LOVE, but she already felt so detached. She couldn't feel bad for this. It was for the good of the kingdom.
She'd have to tell Asgore. What would he say? Would he be guilty that he wasn't the one? That she had to do something like this? Would he avoid her? Would he do his best to forget he was anything to her besides a king?
What would Papyrus think of her? He'd forgive her, obviously. But would he understand why she wouldn't accept it? Would he stubbornly insist she didn't understand what she'd done yet?
The longer that time went on, the more the truth of it sank in. She scowled. Why was it like this? She did her job! She did what everyone asked, wanted, needed from her. She felt so hollow. She wanted another chance to just-
They lost to her. They didn't stand a chance. Undyne didn't know how to feel. It was her first-
Against all odds, without ever striking her, without ever giving up, they managed to escape her yet again. They ran right into Hotland, and despite everything telling her not to, she pursued.
The look they gave her, it looked kind of like exasperation.
Like the look Alphys gave her when she claimed she was going to punch a rock to pieces for daring to trip the scientist.
Oh, Alphys...
She knew better than to think about Alphys at a time like this.
They dodged like the graceful dancer their tutu and ballet shoes (of all things) would suggest. If they didn't land their own hits every turn, she'd take them for a gentle soul.
...Where the hell did that thought come from? They were a murderer! They killed Papyrus! She couldn't understand how she could ever imagine anything positive about the creature. Yet the thoughts persisted.
The longer the battle went on, the more it felt like. Like she could almost forget what it really was. A battle to save everyone. It didn't feel like that at all. Somehow, Undyne felt something like...
...guilt?
No. More like...a wish that things could have been different. A belief that, in better circumstances, this human could maybe...
But, just like that, they were dead.
They looked at her, and they didn't look scared of dying or sad or desperate. They looked...frustrated.
No. Angry.
...No. What...was that?
They poured water onto her after all that? Not only did they refuse to hurt her, they also refused to let her be hurt by her own decision to pursue them into Hotland in her heavy armor. It...wasn't a schtick, was it? They were really something else.
They wouldn't hurt a tomato. They were officially the hugest loser she'd ever known. But also very different than the type of loser she'd assumed humans were. Well, maybe they'd at least stir noodles properly.
Or not.
They called her and Papyrus basically every minute. They were insatiably curious about her opinion on everything they came across. They broke their silence to giggle as she fervently defended her decision to ask Alphys about the weather. They gasped when Papyrus said she threw his sofa at her. They were so...
The look they gave her...
It didn't look like any look she had ever given or received.
It looked thrilled, it looked furious, it looked like some combination between anger and joy that was miles away from righteous fury. It was something monsters didn't have a word for because they didn't experience it.
A want to hurt someone, but not for a goal. For the hurting.
It wasn't exactly hate.
Must be a human thing.
Right.
The fight was intense. The hate was somehow mutual. She attacked, they dodged some, healed some. They attacked, she took it and absorbed it like a pinprick. But they just kept coming, and the pinpricks unraveled her so entirely.
She held on by a thread. She barely managed to kill them. She stared at their soul. Take it to Asgore? Or destroy it right here? She wanted to destroy it, but the surface...
The surface was worth more than her wants. Somehow she knew the surface was worth giving up a little bit of justice.
She clasped it and held it, careful not to absorb it herself and risk ruining everything, even if she felt like she was going to fade. But. Not into dust. It felt like any moment she would fade into-
"Yo, my parents are gonna flip if they find out about this!" Kid said, but it wasn't with the excited tone of rebellion. It was actually kind of annoyed. Yeah, she really blew it when she tried to kill Frisk just because they were a human. She probably ought to properly apologize for that sometime.
For now, though, she wasn't worried about Kid admiring her. "What your parents don't know can't hurt them," she said, "duh!"
"Undyne, this is dumb. What's so great it couldn't wa-"
Kid stopped mid-sentence as they finally looked up.
"Whoa," they said, simply, at the stars. Success!
She distantly saw Papyrus and Sans talking on the edge. (Were they chatting casually or speaking quietly? Looking up or at each other? She wasn't quite sure. It was like when your radio signal is between two stations and you flip between two songs and static.) They didn't seem to notice her or Kid, and she didn't blame them. If she weren't double-checking that Papyrus had stayed put, she doubted she would have noticed the two, either.
She looked up, too. "Make a wish, Kid. And make it count. You're wishing on the real deal, now."
(The static faded for a moment.
"In fact, you could call them-"
"Oh no."
"-Space heaters.")
They didn't bother to look at her. They attacked, full force, unfazed by her transformation. They dodged her spears like they had rehearsed her patterns. What bozo taught them about green soul magic?
She didn't let up, but it didn't do any good. They got hit a few times by especially fast attacks, but their pockets were stuffed with those cute little novelty cinnamon buns they sold at the inn in Snowdin (She had the sneaking suspicion they didn't buy them). And their attacks were individually inconsequential to her extreme form, but, like a pickaxe on rock, the little dents were starting to accumulate.
She was, somehow, fighting a losing battle. The little human seemed so tiny, so simple, wearing that ridiculous tutu and attacking with ballet shoes of all things.
But they knew what they were doing. And it barely seemed to take any time for them to get her to half of her strength.
A quarter.
An eight.
The end.
She felt strange, like she wasn't dying correctly. But she felt okay at the same time, like she wasn't dying at all. She said something, but it was barely her. She forced words while her mind retreated to her okayness.
She knew the world would live on (as long as Alphys didn't start to "contemplate pits" in her absence), she knew she'd done some good (unless they were too fast for the stalling to do any good), she knew the thing would die (as long as Asgore was willing to absorb the souls)
They were huffing with a profound relief and god she hated them.
Then...they looked...sad. Not guilty, no. Just sad. They leaned up to her melting form and whispered, "I'll see you later, bestie."
...
What the...?
...Fri-