After the battle, Doggo turned to Dogamy, concerned about his condition. "Dogamy, you need medical attention. You're injured. Let the medical unit take care of your wounds."
Dogamy, still holding his axe despite his injuries, shook his head stubbornly. "No, Doggo. I'm fine. We have to find that human, and I can't afford to rest now."
Doggo's concern deepened, but he knew his comrade's determination well. "Alright, but be careful. We don't know what that human is capable of."
Dogamy nodded in acknowledgement, his gaze focused and unwavering. He then addressed the other Beast Tamers. "Listen up! We can't let that human escape. Search every nook and cranny of this forest. They couldn't have gotten far in such a short time. Find them and bring them to King Asgore."
The Beast Tamers dispersed into the forest, combing through the trees and underbrush in their pursuit of Frisk. The urgency in Dogamy's voice was evident as he gave the orders. The fate of Rem and the honor of the Royal Guard hung in the balance, and there was no room for failure in their mission.
As Dogamy led the Beast Tamers on the search for Frisk, a heavy weight of guilt gnawed at him. He couldn't help but feel remorse for what had happened to Rem. The memory of his fallen comrade weighed on his heart, and he questioned whether it had been necessary.
However, in the heat of the moment, he convinced himself that it was what had to be done. Rem's interference had been a hindrance to their pursuit of Frisk, and Dogamy believed that they couldn't afford any more delays.
Dogamy's thoughts raced as he contemplated the situation. He wondered how far Frisk had managed to get during the battle. The possibility that the human might have escaped while they were preoccupied with the confrontation with Rem filled him with worry.
The fate of monsterkind, and King Asgore's ambitious plan to collect human souls, hung in the balance. Dogamy was driven by a sense of duty and the belief that this mission was essential, even as he grappled with the consequences of his actions. The search for Frisk continued, with the future of the Underground at stake, and there was no room for hesitation in the pursuit of their goal.
Meanwhile Frisk slowly opened his eyes and found himself on the unfamiliar hospital bed. They attempted to sit up, but a sudden pain in their side made them wince. Alphys, the lizard-like monster, noticed their movement and quickly approached.
"Hey there," Alphys greeted, her voice warm and reassuring. "You're finally awake."
Frisk's gaze darted around the room, trying to make sense of their surroundings. Everything felt so different from the shadowy forest where they had last been. His hand instinctively went to his side, and he winced again as he felt the pain from the knife wound.
Sensing their discomfort, Alphys gently placed a hand on Frisk's shoulder. "Easy there," she cautioned. "You've got a pretty nasty knife wound, and we're taking care of it. You should stay still for now."
Frisk nodded, understanding the need for caution. They were grateful for Alphys' care and guidance, but their thoughts quickly turned to the events leading up to this moment. He was concerned about the fate of Rem and wondered how he had ended up in this place.
As he laid back on the hospital bed, his mind was filled with questions and uncertainty about what lay ahead. The future was unclear, but at least he was in the hands of someone kind and willing to help.
As Alphys attended to Frisk's wound, a voice suddenly sounded from the doorway, questioning her decision to keep something a secret from King Asgore. Frisk's attention shifted to the source of the voice, and his gaze landed on the same goat monster who had attacked them with knives earlier.
Frisk, intrigued and somewhat cautious, asked, "Who are you both?"
Alphys turned towards the doorway, her expression a mix of surprise and hesitation. "Oh, well... This is Frisk," she said, gesturing to the human on the bed. "And, um, you can call me Alphys. I'm a... scientist, I guess."
The goat monster at the door, introducing herself as Sheila, spoke up, her tone holding a hint of formality. "I am Sheila, The Knife Witch of the Royal Guard Generals."
Frisk was taken aback by the title, and it raised more questions than answers. "The Knife Witch? What does that mean?"
Sheila, with an enigmatic smile, replied, "It's a long story, but suffice to say, I have unique abilities with knives and magic. We have something in common, you and I."
As the introductions continued, Frisk couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious title and abilities of Sheila, The Knife Witch, and what role she might play in the unfolding events in the Underground.
Frisk furrowed his brow in confusion and asked, "What do you mean we have something in common?"
Sheila regarded Frisk with a mysterious glint in her eyes. "We both possess abilities related to knives. Though you might not be aware of it yet."
Frisk's puzzlement deepened. "But my magic... It exploded in my face when I tried to use it."
Sheila offered a small, knowing smile. "It wasn't your magic that exploded, dear Frisk. It was the knife you created with your magic."
Frisk's eyes widened as the realization sunk in. "The knife? I made a knife with my magic?"
Sheila nodded, confirming his understanding. "Indeed, you have the potential for a unique and rare form of magic, just like I do. It seems your abilities are closely tied to knives."
Frisk couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The unfolding revelations about his own abilities and the encounter with Sheila raised many questions about the mysteries of the Underground and the potential within himself that he had yet to fully understand.
Frisk, still curious about the past events, asked Sheila, "Why did you attack me earlier? "
Sheila sighed and admitted, "I was about to bring you to King Asgore, but my dear friend Alphys convinced me otherwise."
Frisk's desire to learn more about his newfound abilities led him to inquire, "Could you teach me how to use magic? I've had some training before, and I'd like to understand this better."
However, before Sheila could respond, Alphys intervened. "I'm sorry, Frisk, but it's not that simple," she explained. "You see, your soul is... colorless."
Frisk's eyes widened at the revelation. "Colorless? What does that mean?"
Alphys continued, her voice tinged with a mix of pity and scientific curiosity. "In humans, souls usually have a specific color. But yours... it's lacking any color. Without a color on your soul, you can't use magic, and attempting to do so could be dangerous. It could cause the magic to backfire and explode in your face."
Frisk's hopes of mastering magic were dashed as he absorbed this information. The unique nature of his soul, or rather, the lack thereof, presented a significant obstacle in his quest to understand and harness his abilities. The mysteries of the Underground continued to deepen, and Frisk realized that his journey held more challenges and surprises than he could have ever imagined.
Frisk's brows furrowed as he processed the information. "So, my soul should have had a color by the age of five, and I'm well past that. But it's not just a matter of being a 'late bloomer,' right?"
Alphys nodded in agreement. "Exactly, Frisk. 'Late bloomers' typically gain a colored soul eventually, but you've surpassed that stage without any change. It's quite unusual, and we don't have a clear explanation for why this has happened in your case."
Frisk's mind raced with questions. "Is there any way to find out why I'm different? Or if there's a way to change it?"
Alphys hesitated before answering, "I'm not sure, Frisk. It's a complex matter, and our understanding of human souls is limited. But for now, it's important to be aware that without a colored soul, using magic can be incredibly risky. It could backfire or lead to unintended consequences."
Frisk's face reflected a mix of concern and curiosity. The realization that his very essence was different from what was considered normal for humans raised many questions. His journey through the Underground was taking on a new layer of complexity, and he was determined to discover the truth behind his unique condition.
A few days had passed since Frisk's injury had been treated by Alphys. He was feeling much better, and his determination to continue his journey through the Underground was strong. He began to prepare himself for his next adventure, but as he gathered his things, Alphys entered the room and approached him with a concerned expression.
"Frisk, I know you're eager to leave, but it's still too dangerous for you to go out alone," Alphys insisted. "I need more time to understand what's going on with your soul and why it's colorless. It's crucial to ensure your safety."
Frisk sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. "I know you're trying to help, Alphys, but I can't stay here forever. There are friends waiting for me, and I need to continue my journey."
Alphys nodded, sympathizing with Frisk's desire to reunite with their friends. "I understand, Frisk, but please give me a bit more time. I'll do my best to find answers and make sure you're safe when you leave."
With a reluctant agreement, Frisk decided to stay a little longer, realizing that patience might be the key to unlocking the mysteries of their soul and ensuring a safer path through the Underground. The days ahead promised more questions, discoveries, and challenges as they waited for Alphys to find a way to help them.
Frisk remained patient, though he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss with Alphys. He sensed that she might be hiding something from him, and the uncertainty weighed on his mind.
One day, after recovering fully but still confined to his hospital bed, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He watched Alphys leave the room and decided to follow her secretly. Carefully, he made his way through the unfamiliar surroundings, keeping his distance as he trailed her.
He soon saw Alphys engaging in a conversation with Sheila though he couldn't make out what they were saying. Frisk felt a surge of curiosity and unease, wondering why Alphys and Sheila were talking behind his back and if their discussion held any relevance to his situation. The desire to uncover the truth drove him to continue shadowing them, determined to find answers.
Frisk inched closer to Alphys and Sheila, straining to hear their conversation. Although most of it remained inaudible, Frisk managed to catch a fragment of their discussion.
Alphys spoke with a worried tone, expressing her concerns about Frisk's unique condition. "I'm really worried, Sheila. His soul is colorless, and if we were to extract it in its current state, it would be practically useless."
Frisk's heart raced as he heard this revelation. The implications of Alphys's words were clear: they were discussing the extraction of his soul. It left him with a mix of fear and confusion, wondering what this meant for his safety and the path he had chosen.
He couldn't help but wonder why they were even considering such a drastic action and what secrets they might be hiding from him. With this newfound information, he continued to eavesdrop, hoping to uncover the full extent of the situation.
Listening to their conversation with bated breath, Frisk couldn't shake the growing sense of unease. He needed to know more about what was happening.
"So, you're saying that the phenomenon on the surface has stopped," Sheila remarked, her tone thoughtful. "And Frisk might be the last human to fall into the Underground?"
Alphys nodded gravely. "Yes, exactly. With the surface no longer creating those openings, we might not have another opportunity like this for a very long time."
Sheila's expression became more serious. "And that's why you want to help Frisk gain color in his soul."
Alphys sighed, her voice tinged with worry. "Yes, we need his soul to be in the right condition for what comes next, for King Asgore's plans."
Frisk, hidden in the shadows, felt a mix of emotions. He was both relieved to have some answers and disheartened by the realization that he was seen as a crucial part of King Asgore's ambitions. He was determined to find out more and ensure that his journey was shaped by his choices and not by the designs of others.
As Frisk continued to listen to the conversation, he was suddenly aware of a presence in front of him. Sheila had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, her eyes locking onto Frisk with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine.
Sheila's voice was calm but penetrating as she asked, "How much did you hear, Frisk?"
Frisk hesitated for a moment, weighing his options, and then decided to lie, hoping to keep some information hidden. "I... I didn't hear much. Just bits and pieces."
Sheila, however, saw right through his attempt to deceive. Her expression remained composed, but her eyes bore into Frisk, filled with knowing. "Your face tells me that you know more than you're letting on. Be honest, Frisk."
Frisk's heart sank as he realized that Sheila had seen through his facade.
Frisk, feeling trapped and desperate to continue his journey to the surface, pleaded with Alphys and Sheila. "Please, let me go. I have to reach the surface. There are friends waiting for me up there."
Alphys looked torn, her expression conflicted. "Frisk, I didn't initially plan to keep you here like a prisoner, but you've forced my hand now. We can't let you leave until we figure out how to bring color back to your soul and extract it."
Frisk's heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation. He had hoped for a peaceful resolution, but it seemed that he had inadvertently provoked the determination of Alphys and Sheila.
Alphys turned to Sheila and gave the order. "Sheila, capture Frisk. We need to attempt to bring color back to his soul and extract it for King Asgore's plans."
Sheila nodded and summoned multiple knives with her magic, her abilities on full display. Frisk knew he was cornered, and the odds were stacked against him. He had no means of escape, and the danger of the Underground had intensified beyond what he had initially imagined.