As the boiling liquid leaves the spout of the red teapot and enters Toriel's glass, its resulting steam carries whiffs of an enticing fragrance. One that brings the elderly monster back to a previous lifetime.
Golden Flower tea wasn't her first choice of beverage, but as she had expected, it was the only one available. Asgore was a monster of habit, and despite how much has changed, the many familiarities in his apartment are hardly subtle, such as the flourishing flowers on top of the windowsill.
After both Boss Monsters lost their two beloved children to the callousness of war, they found themselves unable to continue aging. Without a biological offspring, the two will stay alive for centuries to come. A dream to those with mortality- a curse to the unfortunate few without it.
Not only did they stop aging physically, but Toriel suspects she and Asgore have also stopped progressing as people, made evident by their unyielding habits and ancient lifestyle. A failed parent's grief wouldn't be enough punishment. No, they'd be forced to spend the rest of their eternal existence reflecting on their mistakes.
Toriel thought she was finally relieved of such anguish. However, with Frisk's disappearance, it seems life isn't done subjecting her to its sick idea of 'justice.'
Once Asgore fills his own mug, he takes the seat at the other end of the table. While he fixed the tea, neither he nor his ex-wife exchanged many words, other than casual greetings and comments on the moody weather. The atmosphere of the cramped apartment weighs more than one of Undyne's fifty-pound dumbbells.
"You may want to let it cool for a bit," Asgore advises.
Toriel lifts the tea glass and takes a full sip, the scorching liquid having no effect on the pyromancer.
"Sorry," Asgore stammers. "Instincts, you know?"
Since the boss monster's unannounced arrival, Asgore has done a predictably poor job concealing his nervousness. Part of Toriel is surprised she doesn't share in his unease. After all, it has been seven years since they last spoke in person.
"How, um, how are you, Tori?" Asgore says before he tenses up. "Actually, never mind. That is a rather foolish question."
"How are you, Asgore?"
He furrows his brow.
"Me? I'm uh... doing well. Or at least as well as one can be concerning recent events."
In response, Toriel only nods. Asgore feels stupid for giving her yet another reminder of her missing child.
"Do you know why I came here?"
To this, the king is at a loss. Plenty of guesses come to mind, but none seem more tangible than the others.
"No," he finally answers. "Nevertheless, I'm grateful to see you again."
He meant every word. Sure, finding his true love at the doorway to his residence came as a massive shock. But his induced anxiousness was quickly overshadowed by a surge of happiness welling deep inside of his gleeful heart.
For a moment, Toriel says nothing. The tea glass in her paw remains perfectly still.
"The six humans who fell after Chara... they were all wonderful."
Asgore's smile fades.
"But... I never truly got to know them. Any of them."
"Tori, I-"
"But Frisk is different. Extraordinary. Sometimes, I find it hard to believe how someone can be so selfless, so... pure of this world's cruelty."
She begins to tremble.
"I can't lose them, Asgore. I just... I can't..."
"You won't," he says, placing his paw over Toriel's. This subdues her rising sorrow, but not by much. "To think otherwise is to call into question the power of their Determination. Something neither of us should do after what they've achieved- the world they've built."
Toriel produces a micro-smile, but it disappears once she becomes aware of the king's touch. Gently, she slides her paw away from his.
"The reason I came here, Asgore, is because I need someone else who can understand."
He blinks.
"Understand what?"
"...How it feels to lose everything."
Both monsters fall into brief silence, but no words are needed for either of them to feel the other's pain.
"Chara and Asriel deserved better, as did our people," Toriel says.
"They still do," Asgore responds. "Which is why we all need Frisk now more than ever."
Toriel shakes her head at this.
"They're just a kid."
"A strong kid," Asgore counters. "One who'll do a better job uniting our two species than I ever could."
Toriel's silence confirms her agreement.
"I've thought about it for a long time, Asgore," she begins. "And I'm not sure I can ever forgive you."
"Nor should you, or anyone else for that matter," Asgore admits, solemnly staring down at his tea. "The things I've done are unforgivable. I understand if you can't bear to be around me. But... I still mean what I said on the day of our liberation. If at all possible, I'd still like for us to be friends, Tori. "
Toriel takes some time to think about her former husband's request.
"Maybe," she says. "That's the only answer I can give you."
"That's more than enough."
...
Frisk doesn't have the luxury of grassy terrain softening their landfall this time. Instead, their face meets hard concrete. Thankfully, the vortex that brought them here only stopped several feet above the ground. Otherwise, those standing nearby would have had to scrape up a cross-dimensional human pancake.
Against their wishes, the journey to this universe had been as nauseatingly uncontrollable as the first. The chaotic vortex whipped its frail passenger around so much to the point of blowing away the fresh stream seeping from their eyes. But while the tears may be gone, the human's heart still aches for the three skeletons who lost their lives getting them here.
Just thinking about their newly acquired power makes Frisk angry. Seven years of pacifism down the drain. They feel a burning sense of hatred, not just for the savagery of the monster they killed, but mainly for themselves. Back in the lab, they crossed a line. And unless they were willing to break their promise and attempt a true reset, there's no going back across it.
Sans will surely like a word if they manage to get...
Home?
Frisk brightens up.
The concrete beneath them belongs to a road, having been warmed by the afternoon sun. On both sides of it are familiar storefronts and businesses, like the comic store Monster Kid treats as his second home, or the salon Bratty and Catty often visit.
This is Mirstone City.
Much to the objection of their wobbly knees, Frisk stands up. A feeling of assurance washes over as their vision is met by familiar establishments. But something isn't right.
In place of a clothing store Toriel took them shopping only three months back is a burger joint. And instead of the pharmacy Frisk recalls passing now and then on the occasional outing with friends is a rundown building that looks to have been some sort of supermarket.
Strangely, the familiar buildings are not without minor deviations, such as newer paint and different advertisements. Frisk reflects on Gaster's words- how the number of alternate universes is infinite. If the gateway they ventured through was random, as was explained by the royal scientist, their chances of winding up in their home dimension were one in a sea of septillions.
This revelation drains all optimism from the teenager's body. Depending on what year it is, Gaster may no longer exist in this world, and neither will his DT Machine. At the very least, this means Alphys can possibly aid in their endeavor. But her technology might not be as promising as her predecessor's.
I can't think about that now. First, I need to climb Mount Ebott. Then-
A distant explosion rattles the human's insides. It didn't sound anywhere close and judging by its intensity, that was a good thing. Following the booming sound are barely audible 'pops'. Fireworks are Frisk's first guess, but never have they heard any pack that much of a serious punch.
"What are you doing?!"
Before Frisk can even fully turn around, their hand is being held by another. Once the teenager can get a good look at the man, they're baffled not so much by his sudden appearance, but rather by what he's wearing.
A camouflage military uniform. Resting on his shaven head is a thick green helmet, and a fully kitted vest covers his upper torso. Frisk's eyes are drawn to the heavy firearm held idly in his left hand. An automatic rifle if the child has to guess, though, they know very little about guns.
"It's not safe out here, kid," the soldier says before he starts dragging them away from the street. "Don't be scared, you can trust me."
Even if Frisk wanted to flee, they stood no chance of prying their hand away from the soldier's iron grip. While they're being escorted, the distant popping does not relent. The concerned human finally questions the nature of what they seem to have mistaken as fireworks.
...
"Never Forget."
If only it were so easy. Sans occupies a spot at his desk, holding up the picture frame he so often neglected as the peculiar remains of a life once lived. Looking at it again, he realizes he has never stopped and admired just how happy everyone looks in the photo. He, Papyrus, and even the homogenous skeleton between them share the same, broad smile.
There is truly no way to learn who is responsible for scribbling down the hastily written message, but whoever it was, Sans doubts he'd be the culprit. While he may not remember where it is he comes from, since his earliest recollection, the skeleton has been semi-aware of life's trivialness. Familiar occurrences, the intense feeling of déjà vu, and the knowledge of his distinctive SOUL all contributed to reality's uncanny nature.
But back then, there were several methods to rationalize such thoughts. Paranoia was the main deterrent used against the notion of life's alleged fragility.
Then Frisk happened.
Of all the human's wicked crimes, by far the cruelest was the audacity to make a false promise. Although, now that he reflects on the conversation, the promise may have been more for them than it was for anyone else. Addiction is a scary thing sometimes. Especially terrifying when that addiction just so happens to entail resetting an entire timeline.
To say the meeting with Asriel Dreemurr was unproductive would be putting it lightly. It wasn't answers the skeleton walked away with, but rather more confirmation of this reality's impending doom. The flower was right to suspect Frisk to fall into old habits.
Despite what their fraudulent innocence suggests, patience is not at all one of the kid's strong suits. If they are truly lost somewhere, facing down an impossible obstacle, it'll only be a matter of time before they give up. Or, alternatively, they'll succeed, and reset to experience the thrill of overcoming it again.
The door to the skeleton's bedroom bursts open, only to be stopped mid-way by a cluttered mess of varying objects. Sans looks over at his younger brother, his body only halfway seeable through the partially opened doorframe.
"SANS, THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS!" Papyrus yells. "WHAT WOULD GUESTS THINK IF THEY SAW THIS ABHORRENT DISPLAY OF INDOLENCE?!"
"The only guest that comes by here is the pizza guy," Sans lightly jokes.
"YES, AND HE DESERVES TO BE GREETED WITH THE CLEANLINESS OF A DESCENT HOUSEHOLD FOR HIS GREAT ACTS OF CHARITY!"
When Sans first ordered pizza, Papyrus had mistaken the delivery as a generous donation for his and Undyne's 'hero work'. His older brother found it so amusing, that he let it go on, watching with hilarity each time as Papyrus always showered the bewildered pizza man with immense gratitude.
"ANYWAYS, UNDYNE NEEDS MY ASSISTANCE WITH THE ONGOING INVESTIGATION. I WON'T BE BACK FOR A WHILE, SO FEEL FREE TO HELP YOURSELF TO WHATEVER IS IN THE REFRIGERATOR."
Sans internally passes on the offer, as all that resides within the refrigerator is spaghetti and a few cans of soda.
"Will do," he says in a low voice, returning his gaze to the picture on his desk.
"SOMETHING BOTHERING YOU, BROTHER?"
"Nah, I'm good, Paps."
"I... DON'T THINK YOU ARE."
Sans is surprised. Usually, he's able to hide his mood with little to no effort. Then again, his brother knows him better than anyone. Even more than the pair of genocidal freaks who have likely experienced every last possible interaction there is to have with him.
"EVER SINCE EMERGENCE DAY, YOU HAVEN'T BEEN YOURSELF. NO ONE CAN BLAME YOU. EVERYTHING RECENTLY HAS BEEN, UH, OVERWHELMING. BUT THERE IS NO NEED TO GIVE UP! SO LONG AS WE HAVE EACH OTHER, EVERYTHING WILL TURN OUT WELL IN THE END! I JUST KNOW IT!"
Like always, Papyrus's shining optimism never falters. It makes Sans begin to think.
"How are you so cool, little bro?"
"WHY, YOU SHOULD KNOW IT COMES NATURALLY, BROTHER!" Papyrus boasts. "IT IS JUST WHO I AM. BUT I THINK YOU CAN BE COOL TOO! SO LONG AS YOU BELIEVE IN YOURSELF AS MUCH AS I BELIEVE IN YOU."
Sans' pupils enlarge.
"WELL, I MUSTN'T BE LATE FOR WORK. UNDYNE HASN'T BEEN IN A GOOD MOOD RECENTLY. GOOD DAY, SANS, AND REMEMBER TO CLEAN THIS MESS!"
Papyrus closes the door on his way out. Sans hadn't heard the last of his rambling. His fleshless fingers trail along the framing of the picture.
"Believe..."
...
The soldier from earlier wasn't very talkative, having neglected to answer a single one of Frisk's many questions during their brief time together. Instead, he'd respond with yet another assurance of the child's safety, as if he were a broken record on repeat. An explanation would have certainly been welcome since now Frisk's current surroundings have left them even more bemused.
Voices belonging to no less than a dozen different conversations drown out the human's ability to think. All around are other Mirstone citizens crammed together in a large building like a can of sardines. Frisk can't so much as move without bumping into someone's shoulder. They recognize this self-made safe haven as the gymnasium Undyne frequents, only because of its unaltered exterior. The inside is a different story.
All of the workout gear has been pushed to the outer edges of the walls to make as enough room as possible. Two soldiers patrol the crowded area, doing their best to address concerns and supply those in need with food, water, and blankets. Not many others seem the bodybuilding type, meaning they were likely pulled off the street and escorted here as well. Seeing just how unorganized everything is, Frisk speculates that this gym was made into a shelter very recently.
What concerns them the most is the complete lack of a monster presence. From what little they got to take in of the city, it looks about the same as it did a year or so after the barrier's destruction. Naturally, that would mean this universe must have gone through a Neutral Run, but something else bothers Frisk. Never in the past seven years of life on the surface has a disaster threatened Mirstone to the point of emergency shelters being a priority. And no such thing has occurred even before the resets stopped.
So what's unique about this universe?
Frisk intends to find out.
They turn to the closest human next to them, that being a woman who looks to be in her college years, and they tap on her shoulder, hoping to hear something more insightful than what the soldier from earlier had to offer. The woman turns around, looking equally surprised and lost as to why a stranger wants her attention.
"Hi," Frisk waves politely. "If you don't mind, could you tell me what is going on?"
The woman stares at them with eyes of disbelief.
"You mean... you haven't heard?!" she says.
Why else would I be asking?
"No, I haven't," Frisk says, hiding their impatience.
"It's Mount Ebott," the woman explains, paying no mind to the teenager's surprised expression. "Something is coming out of it, um... 'monsters' people are saying. Sounds crazy right? Well, the National Guard was called in and they're fighting whatever the hell it is."
"No..." Frisk says, the pieces of the puzzle aligning in their brain. "No, no no, they're- they're going to be massacred!"
"Um... isn't that a good thing?"
Frisk departs from the woman and shuffles through the mass of refugees on their way to the nearest exit. They have no idea why the barrier's destruction was delayed, or why humans are automatically responding to the newly freed population with violence. But what they are sure of is what they're going to do next. Save as many monsters as possible. This may not be their universe, but these are still their friends. And they deserve peace like everyone else.
Pushing open the gymnasium's backdoor, Frisk stumbles outside, once again finding themselves in the warm afternoon breeze. No soldiers seem to be near, much to their convenience.
But if I want to get to Mount Ebott without being found and brought back here, I can't be out in the open.
While Frisk tries to contemplate how to execute such a contradictory plan, they take notice of a ladder on the back of the building they just exited from which leads to its rooftop. They gaze up at it for a moment, having a silent debate over the plausibility of their idea.
Screw it.
...
The Mayor rarely has a use for security. Thanks to a well-run police force and the general cheerfulness of its citizens, Mirstone holds a nearly non-existent rate of crime unheard of for a metropolis of its magnitude. Because of this, he saw no harm in giving Undyne the equivalent of a literal gold star if it meant settling monster concerns over Mirstone's supposed powerinequivalence between its two species.
But today, the Mayor made it a point to have a couple of volunteers from the police department stand on either side of him as he stares into the jaws of a possible rebellion. Standing before the stage in front of City Hall is a crowd mostly made up of monsters, similar in size to the group of protestors seen before. Undoubtedly, they've gathered for one thing. Good news. And to the Mayor's knowledge and no one else's, there is currently no such thing.
He fastens his tie. A passive gesture Neil would have recognized as the elder's signature sign of unease. Instead of being here today, the city administrator is situated down at the police precinct acting on his superior's orders. A necessary contingency if things get out of hand today, which they very likely will.
Ready to get things over with, the man licks his lips and leans over the podium to get a better angle at the microphone.
"Greetings, good citizens of Mirstone," he forces a smile. "There is no gentle way to ease into today's discussion, as it has rightfully involved the great ire and fear of our fellow monster civilians... mostly the former. But I have heard your cries, and our brave police are-"
"DID YOU CATCH THEM?!?" a voice from the crowd yells.
"Uh... rest assured, we will get into that, but first-"
"IT'S EITHER A YES OR A NO!" another voice calls out.
"WE DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY MORE OF YOUR SPIEL!"
"TELL US THE TRUTH!"
More voices join together until their combined uproar is unintelligible. The Mayor notices the nearby officers starting to get antsy.
"Very well," he finally says, making the crowd settle down. "Regarding the status of the culprit responsible for the murders on our most recent Emergence Day... they still have not been found, but-!"
A wave of anger ripples through the crowd once more.
"YOU LOT ARE DUMMIES, DUMMIES, DUMMIES!" a particularly angry dummy screams.
"HOW MANY OF US HAVE TO DIE FOR YOU TO DO SOMETHING?!"
"NONE OF YOU HUMANS CARE ABOUT US!"
"Okay, okay," the Mayor says, gritting his teeth. "I know some of you tuned into your king's speech and were moved by his words, but if we're being honest, not to mention rational, there is absolutely no hard evidence to prove that these attacks were specifically targeted at monsters."
One might assume a volcano went off given the sound and intensity of the crowd's following eruption. The Mayor doubles down, the microphone barely amplifying his voice over the crowd's noise.
"Let me introduce you to this useful thing called reality. Not everything is about you monsters. Now, we are doing the best we can to accommodate you, so there's no need for this barbaric nonsense-"
A ball with a texture best described as a fuzzy scribble soars through the air, missing its political target by a mere inch. The officers are quick to react. Before the Mayor can try to make out from where in the crowd the projectile came from, the police grab his shoulders and hurriedly drag him to the momentary safety awaiting behind the doors of City Hall. The crowd continues to be restless, not relenting in their cries for justice.
One voice catches the Mayor's ears right before the double doors close behind him.
"IT'S TIME TO TAKE MATTERS INTO OUR OWN HANDS!"
The elderly man is humored at the thought of how little their acts of treason are about to achieve. Humans were here first. And they will surely be here after.
...