"Come on, kid, pick up the phone..."
After several more seconds of ringing, Neil's request is denied when he hears from the cellular device pressed against his ear:
"Hey, this is Frisk! Sorry I couldn't come to the phone, please leave a message."
Even over a voicemail, they're super polite.
Dejected, he lowers the cellphone. If the first seven calls went unanswered, he doubts an eighth would be any different.
"Gotta hand it to Frisk," a voice says from across the room. "Their timing is just impeccable."
If the tone of the mayor's voice isn't enough to indicate sarcasm, the irritation written all over his wrinkled face practically screams it. The elderly man remains situated on his brown desk made up of Amazon Rosewood. On it rests various stacks of paperwork, most of which aren't due for completion in hours.
Prior to the current occupant's reign, the office had few decorations worthy of note. Most humans who filled the role of mayor found themselves too caught up in the welfare of Mirstone to leisurely decorate. Not this one. Somehow, he found time to do both, unapologetically exerting his care for appearances.
In the center of the room are two, well-furnished purple armchairs facing each other. A round, black coffee table sits between them, supporting various tea glasses. Gracefully positioned portraits showcasing past human royalty and iconic art pieces crowd the tan walls. A pleasant fragrance hangs in the air, contributing to the setting's professionalism.
"Remind me, Neil, what's the point of a monster ambassador if they're not around to... I don't know... ambass?"
The mayor takes a sip of rosemary tea, eyes fixated on a window to his left shrouded by brown curtains. Outside the barrier of glass is a sea of voices.
"They must have their hands full," Neil concludes, turning to face his boss.
"Don't I know it," the mayor mumbles, rising off of his desk and walking off to the side. "I've seen a great many disasters in my time. You've been with me for some of them. Trying to find the necessary living space for a whole new population we've been at war with for centuries proved quite a stressful task. But let me tell you something..."
Angrily, he yanks the curtains away, nearly tearing them from the window frame. On the other side of the unveiled glass awaits a mob from which the demanding voices originate. Every person in the crowd is a monster, making it easy to ascertain the cause of their uproar.
"Fiasco doesn't begin to describe our current predicament."
Neil finds it hard to disagree.
"Sir, I suggest we wait for Frisk's assistance," he proposes. "These monsters trust them. They see that child as a savior. Let them work on an official statement while we coordinate our efforts to find the murderer at large."
"You think it's that easy?" The mayor asks, facing the city administrator.
"Well, anything is easier said than done. But right now, these people are feeling targeted, and rightfully so. Their idol was murdered out in the open and a monster-centric restaurant became grounds for a slaughter. None of this can be a coincidence. What they need is justice-"
"What WE need is to get ahead of this while we can. It's like you said, those monsters feel attacked. Cornered. What happens when you corner an animal, Neil?"
Confused as to what the senior is getting at, Niel asks him:
"Do you fear an uprising?"
"Pfft, please," the mayor scoffs. "Need I remind you how a monster's soul compares to ours? Let them come at us with sticks and stones, they won't break MY bones."
"Sir-!"
"Relax, Neil, I only 'kid," he interrupts, rolling his eyes. "Still, these are uncharted waters. We must proceed with the utmost caution. It's not an uprising I'm scared of. It's the civil unrest that our actions in response to one could cause. We need to approach this delicately. Without much acknowledgment on our part, these sorts of things tend to de-escalate eventually."
"So we wait around and do nothing?" Neil asks, waiting for the mayor to disagree.
Instead, he raises his tea glass.
"Now you're getting it."
...
Unlike Sans, Asriel's idea for a shortcut was refreshingly unambiguous, and one Frisk used consistently throughout their many adventures across the underground. Both children occupy the back of a wooden boat. Its owner stands before them, facing the stagnant stream ahead.
"Tra la la," the purple-hooded figure says gleefully. "Perfection is life's ultimate contradiction."
"Just a heads up, they're extremely weird," Asriel whispers.
Not looking to further complicate things, Frisk kept their abundant knowledge of the prince's home to themselves, which includes their strong familiarity with the River Person's ominous nature.
The surrounding walls of enclosing rock form a narrow tunnel with just barely enough space for this method of transportation to be plausible. Spitting in the face of plausibility is the boat's enigmatic movement, sailing across the shallow river without any need for propulsion.
Having complete control over the watercraft without any physical means to make it move made the River Person one of Frisk's more interesting discoveries. They recall multiple past resets where they'd try and unmask the pitch-black anonymity beneath the sailor's hood.
As a reward for their efforts, the curious human was thrown overboard each and every single time. No matter how many attempts were made, the River Person still remains the sole monster they could never defeat.
"Hey, you never told me why you want to visit the Royal Scientist?" Asriel says, hugging his knees.
Frisk stops their reminiscing and looks over at the monster at their side. Already, an hour has gone by, and Asriel still doesn't feel real. Right now, his big, green eyes radiating child-like wonder seem more like a dream. One too good to be true. And yet, here he is, alive without a care.
"Can I ask you something?" Frisk finds themself wondering.
"I don't see why not?" Asriel responds, anticipating the question.
"Do you... know anyone by the name of Chara?"
Just uttering the name sends a chill through Frisk's body, even though they've long since left the frigid atmosphere of Snowdin.
"Can't say I do," Asriel says, his pupils receding up his irises to scan for a locked memory. "Do you?"
Frisk doesn't answer, though if they did, it'd regretfully be a yes.
"Asriel, I need you to promise me something."
"What is it?" he asks, excitedly leaning closer to Frisk. "As your new friend, I'll do anything!"
They smile at Asriel's confidence, but it doesn't last, knowing his resolve will soon waver after hearing what comes next.
"If a human falls... don't help them."
Immediately, Asriel's excitement dissipates. He doesn't say a word, likely trying to fully comprehend what was just asked of him. Only the River Person's light humming fills the silence.
"Wait, what?" the prince finally says.
"Leave them alone, okay? Just don't get yourself involved."
"Why not?" Asriel questions. "Sure they sealed us down here, but Mom and Dad say we should make peace if given the chance. They can't be all bad... right?"
"No, but..." Frisk turns away to face the cave wall. "Not all of them are good either. Just... please say you won't."
To Asriel's surprise, Frisk starts trembling where they sit. Startled at the sudden reaction, the monster brings an arm around their neck, pulling them close.
"Hey, hey, don't cry!" he says, his eyes watering. "You're gonna make me cry!"
This gets a small chuckle out of them, lifting their mood only slightly.
"Fine," Asriel sighs. "If you're that worried about a mean human falling down here, then I'll let someone else take care of it. Will that make you feel better?"
It does. Probably more than Asriel will ever know. Frisk soon stabilizes and wipes the wetness from their eyes.
"Thank you," they say.
Their gratitude brings the prince relief, but he doesn't remove his arm just yet. The two sit there together, patiently waiting for the ride to come to an end.
I'm not sure what's going on or how I'm here, Asriel. But I won't fail you. Not again.
...
Business between the Mayor of Mirstone and the city administrator may have come to a close, but the outcry outside of City Hall shows no sign of concluding any time soon. If anything, it's growing stronger with the more monsters who take part in the rally. The entrance to the building is so compact with protestors, that not a single trace of grass is visible.
This has prolonged the essential conference between the two men, as they now wait patiently within the decorative office for the angry crowd to disperse. An unlikely event if not for the upcoming arrival of someone more than qualified to handle the situation.
While Neil is far from satisfied with the results of today's meeting, he did not go in with unrealistic expectations. Rarely did he and the elderly man see eye to eye. A tradition Neil is confident will continue until the end of his employment. Right now, he lays back into one of the room's two armchairs, with the increasing likelihood of sleep offering to give him a break from such a stressful day.
A loud whistle scares away all drowsiness. It came from outside. At his desk, the mayor sets down his pen and looks out the window.
"She's here."
Even from their current distance, Undyne's thunderous voice is loud enough to reach the ears of both city officials just fine.
"WRAP IT UP, LET'S GO!" she yells. "GET A MOVE ON! LEAVE, OR I'LL PUNCH YOU, AND YOU, AND ESPECIALLY YOU!!"
As if a switch has been flipped, the mob's righteous demand for justice is immediately put to an end. Neil watches the dozens of monsters flood out of the property, heads hung low in defeat. It impresses him how quickly they fell into submission at the heroine's order. He debates whether respect or fear was the primary influencer.
Once the area is cleared out, Undyne marches up the concrete path leading up to the government building. About a minute passes before the double doors to the mayor's office are pushed open, with the fish monster standing between them.
"I knew I could count on you, Undyne," the mayor grins, glancing up at her. "Relieved to know we didn't have to bring in the Riot Police."
"We need a nightly curfew," Undyne says, walking further into the office.
Perplexed, the mayor squints his eyes.
"We need a what now?"
"Curfew," she repeats. "And an increase in police presence all over the city."
The old man opens his mouth to protest but Undyne cuts him off, slamming her fists on his desk. She underestimates her strength, splintering its wood and blowing small piles of paper off its surface. Alarmed, Neil quickly rises from his chair.
"A friend of mine is dead," she grumbles. "Another one is missing. And numerous monsters were slain for no reason at all. Listen to me, and listen carefully. I. Am not. Going. To lose. Anyone else."
After the initial shock comes brewing anger. Neil can see it in the mayor's eyes. There are many things the prideful man absolutely won't tolerate, and disrespect is at the very peak of that list. Before the mounting tension has a chance to spiral out of control, Neil assures the chief:
"We'll implement whatever safeguards are necessary."
Undyne looks over her shoulder at him as he continues.
"Make no mistake, we recognize the nature of these attacks as being targeted at one group specifically. While you work on catching the culprit, we can make sure no other monsters are endangered. To reassure them, we can get their ambassador to make a statement. Something to momentarily put them at ease while..."
Neil trails off, noticing the disheartened look in Undyne's eye.
"Speaking of, Frisk hasn't been answering my calls... are they currently unavailable?"
The heroine turns around, fully facing the concerned official. Then, she tells him the truth.
"They've been taken."
...
Because Snowdin had so often nearly turned Frisk into a human icicle, it was fairly common for them to almost forget about the sweltering heat that permeated throughout the appropriately named Hotland. This is one such instance.
Leaving behind the River Person, whom Asriel had thanked for the free ride, both children find themselves walking across a linear passage of parched Earth.
Encircling the elevated rocky terrain they currently traverse is an open sea of scorching hot magma. Being the source of the environment's unbearably high temperatures, it's also to thank for the heavy humidity present in the suffocatingly thick air.
During their countless runs, Hotland miraculously ended up being Frisk's favorite part of the adventure. Solely due to Alphys's constant communication, Mettaton's high-jinks, and MTT Resort's impeccable service.
Sadly, this area also marked the near end of such a wonderful journey. After, King Asgore, Omega Flowey, and in most cases, the Absolute GOD of Hyperdeath, would rise as consecutive challenges. And one by one, they'd be bested, ending with the shattering of the barrier.
They'd make it to the surface alongside their newfound family, having stayed determined through it all. And inevitably, a familiar emptiness always came back, its only cure being the opportunity to re-experience everything all over again.
"We're here!" Asriel tells Frisk, not knowing the human is already aware.
Standing before the two is a towering, square-shaped industrial building. Its exterior walls are a polished white, and there exists no sign of any decorative touches. All that awaits them is a plain set of doors with "LAB" written in bold red font above it.
So the lab is the same. Frisk thinks. But apparently Alphys isn't the royal scientist? Makes sense... I guess. If this is all before the first human, I don't think she exists yet. No one else does either, other than Mom and Asgore. This is so weird...
"Well, I'll be on my way then!" Asriel says cheerfully.
Hearing this, Frisk is anything but cheerful, turning to the monster with dismay.
"What?" Asriel says, noticing their expression.
"Can't you stay a little longer?"
"I'd love to! But my parents are probably starting to worry. They think I'm playing in New Home. I don't tell them I come all the way out here."
However understandable, Frisk isn't ready to depart. Unfortunately, the prince seems to have made up his mind, oblivious to how long his new human companion has felt guilty over his sacrifice. One, no matter how many different times Frisk tries to correct, remains unpreventable. That won't stop them from making another attempt.
"Do you remember what I said about humans, Asriel? I mean it."
"Relax, I already promised you, didn't I?"
Frisk wants to believe him. But they just can't picture such a good-natured boy leaving someone, hurt and alone, to suffer.
"Hey, Frisk?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks... for being cool and all," Asriel rubs the back of his head. "I've never really had a friend before, a REAL friend anyway. But today was really fun! Do you think we could play again someti-?"
Again today, Asriel's words are cut off by an unsuspecting hug from the fallen human. Frisk manages to squeeze tighter than before. This time, Asriel simply laughs and hugs them back.
"I'll take that as a yes then."
Half a minute goes by of the two standing in front of the lab, wrapped in a warm embrace. Finally, the monster says:
"Uh... Frisk? I think you can let go now, heheh."
...
Every step taken in the long, lavish corridor is not without an accompanying echo. The emptiness of the palace, combined with the dead of night, makes for an isolating walk. Sans doesn't mind, as he finds it a nice change of pace compared to the busy streets of Mirstone.
Never did the bony skeleton see himself returning to the depressing darkness within the underground. At least on his own terms. But today has been jam-packed with surprises already.
"What's one more?" he told himself before making the decision.
Taking a handy shortcut saved Sans a long and arduous climb up the very mountain that concealed him and his kind for countless years. There's no doubt in the monster's mind that the daunting task would've proved no match against his laziness, putting him to sleep before he'd even make it through the forest.
When he finally did arrive, a powerful sense of nostalgia hammered into his exposed rib cage, extending what was, at first, a business trip, into an even longer hike. Sans first visited Snowdin. Everything was exactly as he remembered save for the unorthodox silence.
Next came Waterfall, Hotland, and MTT Resort. All perfectly intact. The underground seems unaffected by time. It's unnerving for the skeleton to think about how much was happening on the surface while monsters were trapped down here, unmindful of it all.
Finally, he made it to the palace. Its polished floors and embellished walls are now as vacant as its former residents. Sans imagines there'd be plenty of room for cobwebs had the entire spider population not joined Miss Muffet above ground.
And now, he's reached his destination. A long hallway where seven years ago, he looked within Frisk's soul and found love. Not LOVE. He often wonders how many of the times preceding it did he find something else.
Moonlight pours through the large windows to the skeleton's left, providing him with more than enough illumination to get a sense of his surroundings. He says aloud:
"I know you're here, pal. Why don't you stop being a creep and come out."
At first, nothing. Just the faint sound of a windy breeze. Then...
"Well, well, if it ISN'T the Smiley Trashbag."
Sans has never heard a rude comment come from such an innocent voice. The glowing pupils in his eye sockets narrow down its source. Two meters across from him is a monster. One that somehow manages to escape recognition but looks eerily familiar all the same.
A single flower. Golden yellow petals encircle his beady eyes and wide grin. Stretching from a large crack within one of the floor's tiles is his green stem which supports the rest of his light body. Sans doesn't let his guard down. If Frisk is anything to go by, appearances have an unhealthy history of being misleading.
Still pondering the flower's last comment, Sans shrugs and says:
"Flattered you remember me, buddy. A shame I can't say the same for you. Flowey, I presume?"
"Ever the perceptive one," the flower grumbles, his unassuming smile twisting into a vile smirk.
"That expression..." Sans observes before winking. "Man, you must have got dunked on quite a lot to be that upset. Hey, what can I say? I aim to please."
"Is there a POINT to you being here?" the flower snaps, dropping all unconvincing pleasantries. "Or did you just come to spout more of your lame jokes?"
"Geez, a little ill-tempered for a prince, doncha think?"
Flowey freezes. If he had a jaw, it'd be hanging wide open.
"They... told you...?" he finally realizes.
"Ya bet they did," Sans confirms. "Gotta hand it to the kid. At least they value honesty... to an extent."
Hearing this, the flower's smile contorts into a hellish grin as his eyes dilate until they resemble that of a demon's. It surprises Sans, but not to the point of earning a visible reaction.
"So... what?" Flowey says playfully. "Heading off into the sunset with your friends wasn't enough? You just had to come back for revenge?"
"Eh, not really," Sans shoots down, making one of the flower's eyes twitches with agitation. "After all, I am in the presence of royalty. If not that, then some innocent kid who got dealt a really bad hand-"
"I DO NOT NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!!" Flowey screeches, his voice reverberating off the walls.
Sans pauses for a moment, sighs, then continues.
"Fine. I'll just cut to the chase. I came looking for answers."
"Answers Frisk doesn't have?" Flowey tilts his head in confusion.
"See, that's sorta the problem. They're gone."
"Gone?" Flowey echoes.
"Gone," Sans affirms. "To make a long and traumatic story short, some bozo's been running around, killing monsters."
The nonchalant tone of Sans' voice does not reflect the bleakness of either his explanation or Flowey's frown.
"Real piece of work, this stranger. Mettaton, Grillby, Doggo... just to name a few. Eventually, they and the kid had at it. Then they both vanished. Poof. Right in thin air."
Taking all of this troubling news with only a slightly bemused expression, Flowey, for a moment, has to gather his thoughts. Sans waits patiently while he does so.
"Huh... guess there IS no happy ending," he concludes. "I told them, you know. I told them to watch out for humans. Guess my warning meant nothing. As does everything in this cruel, meaningless world."
"Tell me about it," Sans says. "But this isn't just any other human we're dealing with. Judging from how your Mom described them, this weirdo has the ability to manipulate space-time. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I only know two others with that power."
"Me and Frisk?"
"Bingo."
"Well, you're obviously not the sharpest," Flowey sneers. "It clearly can't be Frisk since they apparently fought this person. And unless this stranger was a walking plant, you got the wrong guy."
"I know," Sans says. "That's why I sought you out. Do you know anyone else with power over the timelines?"
Not even a second of consideration is needed before Flowey answers with a head shake.
"Nope. When Frisk fell down here, their Determination surpassed mine, overriding my power. No one else could do such a thing. But I suppose if someone could beat Frisk's determination, then..."
"What about the human?" Sans suggests, getting an eye roll from Flowey.
"Fool, are you THAT dense?! We already ruled out Frisk. Try and keep up."
"The other one."
All of Flowey's internal theorizing fades entirely. He looks up at Sans, wide-eyed with surprise.
"The original," he continues. "Cha-"
"DON'T YOU SAY THAT NAME!!!" Flowey screams.
For once, Sans is stumped regarding someone's utterance. He can't tell if Flowey's order originated from a place of protectiveness or fear.
"That'd be impossible!" Flowey says. "They've been gone for about as long as I've been... well..." he motions to his body. "...this. Why would you even suggest that?!"
The skeleton stiffens.
"They never told you?"
"Told me what?"
Sans hesitates.
"... about how bad I suck at theorizing. Sorry, I guess that was a real shot in the dark."
The flower holds Sans' gaze for a moment, seemingly aware there's something more not being said. But ultimately, he drops it.
"Maybe this isn't so bad," Flowey says with a smile curling at the edge of his lip. "If that idiot gets themself killed and resets, I won't be so bored anymore. We can just keep playing the game forever and ever until our heart's content! Oh, the fun we'll have..."
"On that note, Imma LEAF you to your business," Sans says, turning around. "I'll be seeing ya. Or maybe not. Who knows?"
"Oh I think you do," Flowey's grin is audible.
Dissatisfied with a lack of meaningful insight, the skeleton proceeds through the way in which he came in. Before he can disappear down another shortcut, Flowey calls out to him:
"If I were you, comedian, I'd enjoy these final moments! We both know what's coming..."
...