Just as the Ruins had been devoid of any evidence suggesting Toriel's existence, the lab shows no sign of Alphys'. Still, the extensive length of its interior, as well as the blue tiled floor and sophisticated aura, gives Frisk enough familiarity with their surroundings. All that's missing are the stacks of empty instant noodle cartons reaching impressively absurd heights on the untidy monster's brown desk.
Generally, the entire building also looks to be much cleaner, with the glint of the lights above reflecting off the blue floor's polished surface. Near the entrance, a life-sized monitor sits at the human's left, acting as a digitized mirror with a pixelated reflection of the intruder.
Seeing this makes Frisk draw a blank at first. It is only after several more seconds of contemplating the confounding sight before them when their narrow eyes widen with alarm.
In many of the human's past resets, numerous hidden cameras placed throughout the underground served to oversee their every move. And if the massive screen displaying their full appearance is anything to go by, this timeline appears to be no different.
Someone has been watching them.
I guess all of those cameras were set up long before Alphys became the royal scientist. Frisk ponders. It makes sense for security purposes. The underground is small enough to keep a watchful eye on everyone. But this is bad. What if whoever's been spying on me has told Mom and Asgore? That'd be the last thing I need right now.
Whether they're ready for it or not, Frisk's answer announces itself with the DING of a nearby elevator. They turn their head in its direction, recognizing the sound as having come from the entrance to the real place of business beneath what is essentially a glorified lounge. The true lab.
From it steps out a tall figure who stands at no less than five feet. A height more in line with Papyrus's, and that's not the only similarity the two share. Not at all. Their appearances so closely align, Frisk nearly mistakes him for their long-time friend at first glance.
But his skeletal nature and thin stature are without the inclusion of any sort of outrageous clothing. And Papyrus's permanent smile is nowhere to be seen. This monster wears a buttoned-up, white lab coat, and the smile on his oval-shaped face is small, and if Frisk had to guess, voluntary.
Two, glowing white pupils study the teenager from within his pitch-black irises. It could not be any more clear that this is the royal scientist Asriel mentioned earlier. Despite rarely hearing any mention of Alphys' predecessor, Frisk can't help but feel a nagging sense of déjà vu. Aside from his blatant likeness to the skeleton brothers, something else is familiar about this scientist. As though they've met before.
He speaks.
"That expression..." his calm voice begins. "... I've been watching you ever since one of my cameras detected your arrival. At first, I observed solely to ensure you were to bring no harm to the prince. But, I must admit, it didn't take long before curiosity overcame duty. Your attachment to what should've been a complete stranger was the first of many oddities in your behavior. Then came the vague warnings, noticeable acquaintance to life here in the underground, and of course, the fact you immediately sought me out."
The skeleton rubs his chin.
"There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there, human?"
"How did you...?"
"Let's not waste time with shallow questions," the skeleton interrupts. "Our dear king and queen aren't the only ones old enough to remember life outside of these immuring walls of imprisonment. But if I'm being honest, Frisk, if I may refer to you by your given name, your human nature is of no concern for the time being. I'm more interested in what's in here."
The skeleton taps his bony finger against his forehead.
"Where did you come from? How do you know the prince? And lastly, what did you hope to gain by coming here?"
Shocked at the monster's insight, Frisk takes a moment to process these three loaded questions. While they do, the skeleton waits patiently for their reply.
"I come from the future... I think," Frisk finally says unsurely. "I know Asriel because... he saved us."
Frisk tightens their fists, thinking about the last question. The scientist stares at them, wide-eyed after hearing their two prior responses. Next comes the third.
"I came here because I want to go home. And if anyone can help me, it has to be you."
...
Everyone volunteered to stay and lend their support. While Toriel had been grateful for their persistent offers of comfort, what she really needed was time alone. And even if it wasn't immediately, Papyrus, Sans, Alphys, and Undyne all realized this and left for their respective homes.
As the hours went by in an unnaturally slow pace, the light outside faded, ushering in a temporary period of darkness. Darkness that, at this very moment, Frisk is lost in somewhere. Possibly under the captivity of the demon-like murderer.
For the sake of her declining sanity, Toriel doesn't entertain the possibility of a lesser outcome. Her child has to be alive. She's sure of it.
Sitting on the edge of Frisk's bed, Toriel holds one of their folded, striped T-shirts in her arms. It is the best she can do to ease her heavy sense of loneliness. A nostalgic feeling, which takes her seven years back to her time in the Ruins, closed off in some forgotten corner of an already forgotten civilization.
The guilt that haunted her with each passing day of isolation only grew heavier, as more human children escaped her refuge just to meet their demise shortly after. That very guilt pulls at her heart now. If only she had seen the attacker coming from behind, Frisk wouldn't have needed to do what they did.
Thinking about this would bring tears to the boss monster's eyes if she hadn't already sobbed them all away.
While she sits quietly in the still bedroom, clutching at the fabric of her missing child's clothing, the familiar chime of the house phone hasn't ceased to relent. At first, Toriel assumed she could ignore it until the caller on the other end gave up and went about their day. That assumption was made an hour ago.
Having grown weary of the now ear-grading, rhythmic ring, she stands up and proceeds to make her way to the living room. Nearing the black telephone nestled into its switch hook, Toriel grabs it and brings it to her ear.
"Hello?" she says, not bothering to hide her clear annoyance.
"Hey, Tori," a voice on the other end greets.
She freezes. A millennium wouldn't be enough for her to forget that voice. From the source of comfort to the very one responsible for her anguish. Asgore Dreemurr. Realizing this makes her want to hang up straight away.
"Please forgive my persistence," he continues. "I just wasn't sure if anyone was home-"
"What do you want, Asgore?" Toriel interrupts coldly.
"... I heard about Frisk," he says. "All of it. The situation at Grillby's and what happened to Mettaton. The town officials are frantic in their efforts to settle monster concerns. They're bringing me in to do a public speech, and-" He composes himself. "I just wanted to know if you were alright."
"I'm fine."
After several seconds of silence, Asgore says:
"No. You're not."
"Really? How do YOU know," Toriel asks, clutching the phone with enough force to break it.
"Because I know you, Tori. The love that swells in your heart for the children under your protection. With what has happened... I don't believe for a mere second that you're okay."
Toriel sighs. Right as she's about to tell her ex-husband to never call again, he speaks.
"All of them were extraordinary."
"What?"
"The children who fell."
Her eyes enlarge.
"No matter the trials and tribulations, all of them- each and every single one... they stayed determined. I can spend the rest of my existence trying to make up for the things I did. For the lives I stole. And it still wouldn't be enough, which I've accepted. I don't seek forgiveness. I tell you this to remind you of the strength that resonated in their souls. The limitless perseverance that still resonates in Frisk's. You know, as well as I do, that giving up is not in their vocabulary. We will see them again, Tori. They will come home."
"Good night, Asgore," Toriel says, placing the telephone back in its holder.
She looks at it for a moment, being filled with a familiar warmth she thought was forever lost. It's enough to restore the only thing she has left to cling onto. Hope.
...
Any second now, Frisk expects the elevator currently transporting them to lose its power, plunging both them and the royal scientist several floors under with frightening speed. They have to remind themselves that this isn't a normal run, though, the skeletal stranger standing at their side certainly makes that easier.
Immediately after hearing the child's plea for help, the monster was quick to invite them to his true place of operations. While seemingly a gesture born from goodwill, Frisk can't shake the feeling his aid comes from a place of excitement moreso than a feeling of empathy. Few things can rival the sheer power of a scientist's curious mind. Regardless of intent, Frisk is just appreciative to have any form of assistance.
Eventually, the double doors slide open, revealing an entirely different sight than the child anticipated. The dark, greenish walls of the decrepit laboratory Frisk ventured through on countless occasions now share the same pristine quality as the rest of the building.
The skeleton leaves the elevator, arms folded behind his back, followed closely by their human visitor. Both of them walk through the narrow hall, their footfalls being the only noise in the deafening silence. Having explored the true lab during their previous adventures, Frisk still has its layout etched into their brain, even after seven years of life on the surface.
Expectedly, they make a left turn, proceeding into a tighter hall. Once they make it across this one, the passage will open up to an even larger room where the ominous DT Extractor is located. Sure enough, that is what happens. And yet, the teenager's expectations aren't just subverted. They are insulted.
Hanging from a collection of four, large tubes connected to the laboratory's ceiling is a metal pod suspended over a large, pitch-black hole. The DT Extractor is just as Frisk remembers it, being in the shape of a vertical skull with two large empty eye sockets, and the outline of what appears to be a nose. Tubes connect to the massive machine on either side, making for a total of six that serve to satiate the technological mammoth's need for power.
Old news. Frisk barely pays attention to it, as there's something else in the room that has their full attention. A view so crazy, that it makes them do a double-check.
On the stretch of floor to the extractor's left, where there'd normally be a monitor displaying its status, is another machine. A circular contraption of metal and naked wires that surround its exterior. Within the circle is a glowing purple light that cancels out the brightness of the artificial ones above, illuminating the better half of the room in a violet color.
Looking at the swirling mass of visible energy reminds Frisk of the chaotic vortex that sent them here. In fact, no distinction separates them in appearance. Standing in front of it, clipboards in hand, are two monsters. They each wear a similar lab coat to the royal scientist. Both of them look to be skeletons as well, but unlike last time, their all too familiar features aren't a mere trick of the eye.
"Ah, here we are," the royal scientist says, catching up to the human.
Hearing this just barely over the distracting noise of the machine before them, both of the skeletons turn around. Frisk's jaw is wide open.
Sans and Papyrus stand side to side, acknowledging the two's arrival. The latter of which looks the same save for his unusual professional clothing. Papyrus on the other hand is noticeably smaller, barely beating out his brother's height by two inches. Neither of them looks surprised to be in the presence of a human.
"I'd like for you to meet my colleagues," the royal scientist says, glancing at Frisk. "The one on the left is-"
"Sans?!" Frisk interrupts, next turning to the other skeleton. "Papyrus?!"
"WOWIE!" he cheers. "WHEN WE FIRST MONITORED YOUR ARRIVAL, I KNEW RIGHT AWAY WE'D BE THE BEST OF FRIENDS! NOW WE'RE ALREADY ON A FIRST-NAME BASIS AND WE HAVEN'T EVEN MET YET!"
This enthusiasm is lost on the older of the brothers, who instead studies the human with perplexed eyes. The royal scientist only acknowledges this with a smile.
"Normally, introductions would be in order, but you seem to be already acquainted with my helpers," he says. "Good, that saves us some time then."
"Time for what?" Sans asks with his usual chill demeanor. "You haven't really told us what we're doing with a human. Shouldn't we... I dunno... alert the king?"
"And have him interfere with our research?" the scientist replies. "What 'ol "fluffybuns" doesn't know certainly won't hurt him. Come on, Sans, are you not as excited as I? This could be the breakthrough we've been looking for. Our limited understanding of the multiverse is about to change forever."
This confuses not only Frisk, but Sans as well, who ends up shrugging it off.
"Oh, well, whatever you say, Gaster."
That name. The utterance of that one name brings it all together in Frisk's mind, making them go wide-eyed at the revelation. No less than an eternity was spent prying the underground of its secrets, continuously resetting to seek out even the tiniest of clues. Across those resets, one name came up time in time again, be it from his followers or other subtle mentions.
The one who created the CORE.
The one who fell into his own creation.
The one who speaks in hands.
W.D. Gaster.
"To answer your initial question, Sans, we're going to find a way to get this human home," Gaster says, glancing at Frisk. "As payment for the greatest currency of them all."
He smiles.
"Knowledge."
...
Not much occupies the small space within the master bedroom. A queen-sized bed takes up the majority of it, positioned at the back. To its right, on a small dresser, sits multiple thousand-pound weights, a spare eye patch, and a currently deactivated lamp.
A wide television is located on a black TV stand, lined with numerous Mew Mew Kissy Cutie figurines about as rare as rhodium. Like always, Alphys has the lights turned off, making the current re-run of the vibrant anime pierce through the darkness with its flashy colors.
Held in the dinosaur-like monster's claws is a tub of vanilla ice cream. She sits, snuggled up in the blue sheets of her bed, taking in no shortage of spoonfuls.
She's always hated this about herself. The impulse to stress-eat when times get tough. On many days down in the underground, closing herself in her bedroom and pretending the world outside didn't exist was often about all she could do to not self-destruct. Worst of all, it worked.
Food and anime were always enough to keep Alphys going, no matter the hell that awaited her outside her laboratory walls. To live and be loved takes a capable person. A strong person. A likable person. Three traits she never believed herself to have.
Until Stellablook. Her first real friend, and overnight, the source for all of Monster Kind's entertainment. Now he's gone, never to be seen again. And instead of joining in the active protests or even taking part in the large hashtag campaigns dominating Overnet, she lies in bed, away from it all.
Every time the thought comes to mind, Alphys shakes away the tears before they can leak from behind her glasses. She's tired of crying.
The bedroom door cracks open at first before widening all the way. Alphys' eyes enlarge, having not heard Undyne come in. The blue warrior stands there in her police uniform, exhaustion printed across her face. Still, she manages a smile.
"Hey, Alphys," she waves. "Are you okay?"
"H-hi, Und-dyne," the monster smiles back, unconvincingly so. "I'm... f-fine."
Her increased stutter says it all, so Undyne chooses not to pry. She closes the door behind her.
Even without the armor, Alphys never fails to be caught off guard by the sight of the heavenly heroine. Few people ever got to be with the woman of their wildest dreams. For her, that dream turned into a reality, and has remained that way for seven magical years now.
Happiness she will never deserve. Not someone as pathetic as she is. Though, Alphys is careful not to vocalize these thoughts around her girlfriend, as that would warrant another hundred "Greatness laps" with Papyrus.
Something isn't right. Undyne hasn't moved away from the door. She looks down, taking large, unsteady breaths.
"U-Undyne?! Did... did s-something happen?"
"NGAHHH!" Undyne drives her fist into the green wall, making Alphys jump back in shock. "WE HAVE NO LEADS! NO TRAIL! NO NOTHING! WHOEVER TOOK FRISK IS LONG GONE AND... and... I should've been there..."
Undyne shuts her eye in shame, unable to face her lover. She doesn't have to. Alphys rushes off the bed and wraps her arms tightly around Undyne's waist, startling the heroine only briefly.
"It's not your fault," Alphys states. "No one could have k-known what was going to happen."
A moment passes between the two, with the only sound coming from Mew Mew's speech about acceptance. Something that brings to light a question Undyne has been desperately wanting the answer for.
"They will never accept us... will they?" she says. "These humans don't care about us. One just slaughtered a bunch of innocent monsters on OUR day. And no one outside this community gives a damn."
Alphys thinks long and hard.
Did you, um, know there are seven billion humans on this planet?" Alphys asks.
"Compared to our thousands? Don't remind me."
"Well, we all love F-frisk, don't we? And they, uh, l-love us too. So if you really think about it, there's a s-seven billion chance other humans like t-them are out there."
"Doubt it," Undyne grins. "No one is as awesome as that little twerp. Barring us two of course."
"True, but what I'm saying i-is they can't be all bad. Not when s-someome like Frisk exists."
Undyne squints her eye.
"What makes you so sure?" she wonders.
"Because sometimes hard data isn't e-enough," Alphys says. "Sometimes... you need to have a little faith."
Undyne nods. Then, without warning, she scoops her girlfriend into her mighty arms, careful not to bring on too much pressure.
"I love you, Alphys," she smiles.
The yellow on Alphys' cheeks goes bright red. She brings her arms around the heroine's shoulders.
"I love you too, Undyne."
...
When the moon disappeared for its slumber and the sun emerged in its place, Mirstone found itself once again only receiving a portion of its light thanks to the thick layer of clouds blocking out the young star's brightness.
From Toriel's perspective, the dreary weather's return is very much appropriate, as despite being a brand new day, she finds herself stuck in the same nightmare.
All night she had waited for it to be over. A call from the police department, a knock at the door- something. Anything. In those sixteen hours, Toriel did not once move away from the sofa. Unfortunately, nothing came from her patience but disappointment and a growing heartache.
Party banners still hang across the ceiling of the living room, with the boss monster neglecting to take them down. Life in this house will progress if, and only if, its central component is found and returned. Toriel's central component.
On the TV across from her, two newscasters sit at their desks in front of a green-screened globe. Normally, the only one who gets any use out of the television is Frisk, while a good book is all Toriel requires to be content. But the last sixteen hours have been anything but normal, and a book is the last thing Toriel feels like investing her mind into. The noise was also welcome, because without it, the distressed mother would be left with nothing but her anxious thoughts.
Most of the Morning News went by as it usually did. The human presenters went over the weather, discussed local events, and threw a few international stories in the mix. However, the elephant in the room proved too distracting, with several mentions of yesterday being made, along with the announcement of an upcoming speech from King Asgore.
Finally, after two hours, comes time for it to be made. The broadcast transitions to a LIVE feed of City Hall. It zooms into three figures standing in front of the building's double doors, a podium supporting a microphone before them.
The most notable of the three is the one in the middle, towering over the others. Asgore looks nervous, dawning his royal armor. Meanwhile, the two men on either side of him, whom Toriel recognizes as the mayor and city administrator, are expressionless.
Seeing first-hand the difference between monster and human politics was interesting for Toriel when she first adjusted to life above ground. While she and her former husband remained truthful and transparent to their citizens, sometimes regrettably so, here in Mirstone, those in charge have another strategy. To instead, tell the people what they WANT to hear.
No doubt Asgore has spent all night attempting to memorize a prepared script, as evidenced by the wrinkles under his eyes and constant swaying. Selecting the only available candidate empowered to represent all monsters was already a smart decision from those in charge. Now all they need is for him to spew out superficial assurance.
Truthfully, Toriel has no interest in the desperate PR. She only watches due to a vague sense of curiosity. Still, seeing Asgore is enough to make her want to change the channel.
He leans forward into the microphone and opens his mouth.
"Good-"
Asgore reels back from the electronic ring of the microphone's loud feedback. Learning his lesson, he speaks again, this time, more softly.
"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for tuning in. If only we could have joined here today under better circumstances. But to solve a problem, the first step is acknowledgment."
He straightens his posture.
"Yesterday, fifteen monsters were callously and viciously murdered in cold blood. Currently, law enforcement has yet to find a motive, but as I'm sure we can all agree, there is no justification for this. No excuse for this. Lives were needlessly lost, and our dear ambassador, Frisk, is missing. Likely taken by the same offender."
Hearing this causes goosebumps to sprout from under Toriel's fur. Such a thing being shared on a public broadcast only cements the reality of the situation.
"All of these feelings you have right now- fear, anger, confusion, they are all heard. And they are all valid. But to direct such feelings to our city council is misdirected. Mainly due to the fact that, as of now, there exists no hard evidence to indicate..."
He frowns.
"-to indicate..."
Asgore pauses. Then, he resumes.
"Actually, I consulted with the chief of police in private."
The mayor furrows his brow, trying and failing to maintain his professional demeanor. Neil only regards the king with a look of interest. In that moment, it becomes clear to Toriel what's going on. Asgore isn't sticking to the script.
"Her assessment closely aligns with mine, and by extension, the great majority of those of you at home. There is no getting around it. These murders... they were very likely targeted."
Both human politicians break character, exposing their naked emotions with wide eyes of disbelief.
"Targeted at us," Asgore continues. "Once upon a time, we shared this world with our human neighbors. It was a time of great peace... until it wasn't. The truth is that centuries apart have made us strangers. Both sides foreign to the other. As such, mending this mistake in history is going to be a challenge. Yesterday proved there is still much work to be done."
The king's hands grip the wood of the podium tighter.
"But I still believe in this future. A future where the distinction between our peoples is rendered nothing more than inconsequential. And you all should believe in it as well. Because hate is the death of hope. We shouldn't allow it to change who we monsters are. What we have always been. A population of love. Compassion."
Toriel leans forward on the couch, unexpectedly finding herself enraptured by the words being spoken.
"With this power, we can continue achieving wonders. I ask this of everyone. Humans too. Not as a king, but as an ally in the pursuit of this peace. With all of us united, alongside our wonderful ambassador after their inevitable return, we will make things better. We have to."
...