Chapter 39

"Delivery," Mew Mew announced as she dropped a package onto Sans's lap.

Dragging his weary eye sockets away from the screen, Sans looked at the small, lightweight cardboard box.

"Got a knife on ya?" he asked, and Mew Mew answered by producing a switch blade. Sans cut through the tape, opened the box, then froze at what he saw.

"Why is Frisk's pack in here?" What did they do to her?! It took all of Sans's self-control to remain seated and not go berserk.

"Oh, guess you didn't hear," Mew Mew said as if Sans wasn't about to lose his composure. "Remember Mettaton gave Frisk a wish for each of the first two trials she won?"

"Yeah. She used her first wish to have Undyne pardoned."

"Which King Asgore agreed to, no surprise." Sans could hear Mew Mew blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "Your human used her second wish to have that pack and everything in it sent to you. I don't know why since security undoubtedly went through it to make sure she wasn't sending you anything Mettaton didn't want to get out, but whatever. It's her wish."

While Mew Mew muttered to herself how strange humans are as she went back to untangling the web Sans pointed out, Sans dug through the pack. Everything was there – including Papyrus's old action figure Frisk must have found in the remains of Snowdin and for some reason still held onto. The only things that seemed to be missing were the book of fairytales, that silver ring with the red crystal, and a Tem.

"Huh?" Unable to believe it with his own two eye sockets, Sans pulled out the locket. He gave her Chara before they were separated so she would have an ally in whatever was planned for her, and based on what he could see on the show every night, that was exactly what was happening.

Why would the kid send gramps back if they were getting along enough to work together? Sans wondered. Unless . . . Sans didn't know where Frisk was being held prisoner like a performing freak show, but Chara did.

"Hey, Mew Mew," Sans called, casually dropping the locket back into the pack, "I was thinking we order pizza for tonight. Know of any good places?"

"None that are open right now," Mew Mew replied, a bite to her words. Sans looked over to see her gritting her teeth at the program, the cat-doll probably ready to punch the screen as if violence would solve the problem.

"Is the river person still making rounds to Hotland?"

"I think so. Why? You want me to go all the way to Waterfall or someplace to pick up a pizza?"

"You clearly need the break. It would be better to send you than some errand boy."

"I can't take a break," Mew Mew argued. "We're already at higher temperatures than we can bear. If neither of us figure something out soon, we're both going to die here and all of Underground will soon follow."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sans reminded her, "and I'm close to cracking the code."

"Really?" Mew Mew looked as if she was trying with little success to hide her relief.

"Yeah," Sans lied. "If you leave now, I'll have it all fixed by the time you get back. You'll be picking up a celebratory pizza."

Unfortunately, Mew Mew wasn't as dumb as she looked. "Why are you trying to get rid of me?"

"I'm not trying to get rid of you," Sans answered, but Mew Mew wasn't listening.

Too fast for Sans to process what was going on, Mew Mew jumped up from her chair and lurched towards him. She snatched the pack from his hands in an instant and needed only a second to look through. Without further inspection, she tossed Frisk's pack back to Sans without taking anything out.

"I already know about Chara," she stated as she sat back down, not bothering to look at Sans. "If you were trying to get rid of me to talk to him, it's not going to work. Whatever you have to say to him, you can say with me around."

Sans stared at the back of Mew Mew's head for a moment. "I'm surprised not that you know about Chara, but that you don't care."

"Oh, I care," Mew Mew corrected, "but not enough considering what's going on right now. I might hate Chara, but I have no plans to prioritize revenge over literally everyone's lives. He can wait."

"Wow, what did Chara do to you that was so bad?"

"He killed my best friend." Nothing in Mew Mew's tone gave away what she could possibly have felt saying those words. "I witnessed the whole thing."

Deciding it was better to leave Mew Mew alone, Sans threw on the locket. Chara materialized, took one look around the room, and glared at Sans. Needless to say, Chara was quick to figure out what exactly he was brought into.

"You could have fixed the Core this whole time, and you never thought to say anything to anyone as we spent days traveling here when you could have just teleported yourself and took care of this ages ago?" was how Chara greeted Sans.

"Good to see you too, gramps," Sans replied, turning back to the computer. "Why'd the kid send you my way?"

"To check if you needed help, as top priority," Chara said, doing what sounded to be his best to shove aside his frustration, "and to tell you where she is being held hostage if you are able to break her out."

"I was anticipating that second part, but unfortunately, we're stuck on the first part right now."

From his peripheral, Sans saw Chara move closer to look at the computer screen. Sans noticed another knot to untangle, but as he prepared to work on it, Chara stopped him by saying, "I would not do that if I were you."

"Um, excuse me," Sans gave Chara the side eye and watched as the human studied the coding, "are you telling me how to use Dr. Gaster's computer?"

"Normally I would not dream of it," even as Chara spoke, his eyes remained glued on the code before them, "but this is not Dr. Gaster's work."

"Look, gramps, G had many different styles of code he liked to use. Too many for even him to keep track of. Besides, this was all done on his master account. Who else could have done this but him?"

"Someone who had his account information and knew enough about the Core to really mess with what should be a simple process." Sans watched Chara's eyes flicker to Mew Mew, whom Chara didn't seem to care was around, then back to Sans. "Give the locket to Darcy."

"Who?"

"Sorry, I mean Mew Mew."

Sans didn't question it. There were too many questions but no time to ask any of them.

"Hey, Mew Mew," he called, "gramps wants to speak with you."

Snorting, Mew Mew replied, "And why would I want to speak to him?"

"Please," Chara practically pleaded, his expression growing more worried the longer he looked at the code, "it is urgent."

"I think he'll beg if you ask him to," Sans said. "Really seems to be a big deal."

In response, Mew Mew didn't turn around as she extended her hand. Sans tossed her the necklace, and Mew Mew put it on. Glaring at her side, she snarled, "Okay, what is it?" Her demeanor fell as she listened to whatever it was Chara had to say.

"That's impossible!" Mew Mew hissed as she nearly jumped out of the chair. "You know as well as I do that she's dead. Need I remind you—"

Mew Mew grew paler by the second. "How can you be so sure? . . . Do you really think that's possible? Well, I did find this." Pulling a flower pin from her pocket, Mew Mew presented it to Chara.

"In the Core," she said, answering a question Sans could not hear. "I see. I . . . In a lot of ways, I hope you're wrong, but at the same time . . . I hope you're right about this."

To Sans, Mew Mew said, "Okay, we're going to try a different approach."

"What did gramps say?" Sans asked, looking where he assumed Chara stood.

"That this coding looks familiar to him, that it reminds him too much of one of Dr. Gaster's assistants," Mew Mew answered. "If he's right about this, we might know what to do."

Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. "And the catch?"

Mew Mew visibly swallowed. "We have until tonight before the Core's temperature take an unexpected spike and the entire thing explodes."

There it is.

"Well, what are we waiting around for?" Sans turned back towards the computer. "Let's get to work so we can claim that celebratory pizza."

The dress designed for the third trial was the most beautiful thing Frisk had ever worn. The pink neckline exposed her collarbone and shoulders, and the sleeves hugged her arms to her elbows before becoming oversized and falling to her wrists. Blue fabric hugged her waist, and it showed off her figure without clinging too tightly to her skin. Beginning at her hips, the skirt fell as it slowly shifted from dark blue to deep purple, and the transparent layer over the skirt sparkled in the light. All Frisk could think as she saw herself wearing the dress in the mirror was how this was something she always imagined a princess would wear.

"A white flower. No white flower. A white flower. No white flower." The purple cat makeup artist kept holding a flower hair pin up and pulling it away as she tried to decide what to do with Frisk's hair. "Hmm, maybe a flower crown? Oh, some pink flowers would look great with the fabric of your collar! Yes, a pink and white flower crown would look purrfect! Aha, pardon the pun. Sometimes I get excited and can't help myself!"

"No, Catty, I don't mind." Frisk had to resist running her fingers down the skirt again. "Have you decided how you're going to do my makeup yet?"

Setting the pin aside, Catty brought her massive paws to Frisk's face and angled her head this way and that. "Blue and purple eye shadow, definitely. A light blush, and rose pink lipstick. Yes, that would do. Just enough to stand out, but not so much we cover your natural beauty."

Frisk blushed.

"Aww, you are so cute!" Catty squealed, dropping her paws. "Are all humans as cute as you, or are you the only one?"

"So," Frisk began as Catty resumed doing Frisk's hair, "how did you become a makeup artist? Do you like the job?"

"I love it! It's a real step up from selling junk at the back of an alleyway of a fancy schmancy hotel with Bratty. Although, I do miss seeing my bestie every day. Well, we'll have plenty of time to catch up when we get lattes next week!

"As for how I became a makeup artist . . . I don't know. Hahaha. Just got really lucky, I guess. Mettaton happened to be filming a scene nearby for his latest movie at the time. His personal makeup artist either quit or got fired or didn't show up to work that day. I don't know. He saw me on the street, pointed at me, asked if I knew how to do makeup, and told me to do his before I could answer. He loved what I did, and the rest is history!"

As Catty continued to chat while she did Frisk's hair and makeup, Frisk couldn't help but wonder how she was so comfortable in the presence of a Red. The last time they talked, Frisk could see that Catty shared the same hope as her ancestors. While most of the monsters on set refused to even look at Frisk, Catty was comfortable talking with her when conversation didn't steer down dark paths. Catty even asked if humans were cute. This monster hated humanity no more than the Blues did.

Shades of purple, Frisk thought as Catty went on and on about "that cute guy who works at the burger joint." Perhaps Catty didn't want the world to be painted in human blood like her blouse signified. Perhaps Catty's whole life had led her to believe there was no other way if monsters were to ever reach the surface, and she didn't know better to question it.

"Catty, may I ask you a question?" Frisk said after Catty finished telling her about her times spent as a teenager in the garbage dump.

Hesitating, Catty slowly replied, "Sure. What is it?"

"I'm curious. What do you plan on doing when you reach the surface?"

Catty didn't waste a second. "I'm grabbing Bratty, and we're going to the beach! After our last DVD scavenge at the dump, Bratty and I fell in love with romance movies set near a beach, and there was this one nature documentary on the ocean we saw once that was totally not boring. After we see the beach, we're getting surface lattes. Then we're finding the nearest garbage dump and seeing what kinds of treasure we can find there."

"Sounds like an adventure." Frisk laughed.

"Anything is an adventure when you're with the right person." Catty set the makeup pallet down. "There. Now, don't you look fantabulous?"

Returning her attention once again to her reflection, Frisk's heart nearly stopped. The person looking back at her could not have been Frisk herself. This person looked beautiful and confident, not the wavering mess who didn't know what she wanted Frisk truly was.

"Thank you, Catty," Frisk whispered. "I . . . I love it."

Catty stood behind Frisk, put both paws on Frisk's shoulders, and stared at Frisk's reflection as well. "I could not ask for a better human to beautify before she frees us all," she said before realizing what her words truly meant. Catty's demeanor fell slightly, and her grip on Frisk's shoulders tightened.

"I wish there was another way to free everyone," Frisk whispered. They weren't words said to win over Catty. It was something Frisk wanted to be true.

"Why would you want to free us when monsters want to war with humans?" Catty asked even quieter.

"Not all monsters are bad," Frisk answered. "Neither are all humans. I like to think if we all could set aside anger and hatred and try to understand what it's like to be the other, then everyone can perhaps one day live in peace."

"Like Oreo and Baguette, except with a happy ending."

"Yeah, exactly like that."

A monster poked his head into the dressing room to warn them that the show would begin shortly and Frisk needed to start getting into position. Frisk thanked Catty once again, but the monster told her to wait.

Catty adjusted the flower crown in Frisk's hair then touched up the lip gloss. Stepping back to admire her work, Catty smiled and said, "There, now you're ready."

Something about the way Catty stared at Frisk made the back of the human's eyes sting. This was how Catty wanted to remember Frisk: A princess in a designer gown made beautiful by the cat's own hair and makeup handiwork. Not the bloody mess Frisk was going to become when the time came for her soul to be harvested.

I have more than one chance to live this through, Frisk reminded herself as she followed a producer to the stage. Sans and Chara are a backup more than anything. One way or another, I will get out of here.

Frisk ran the fingers of her opposite hand over the ring on her left middle finger. Chara warned her against wearing the ring when she had yet to learn to control the magic inside, but the situation called for Frisk to take all precautions she could. Hopefully the magic would protect her as it did before if necessary and nothing more.

Either way, it was almost calming to have something of Chara's close when he himself was absent.

"Okay, we're doing this," Alice said to herself as she gripped a phone in her paws. They had finally managed to get the number of the call in before the trial. Their Frisk Fox fan page had reached followers in the triple digits – a real feat since Mon barely expected three. Everything Alice intended to reveal had been written, rewritten, revised, and rewritten again before Alice committed it to memory.

Tonight, while the Reds were celebrating a premature victory, Alice was going to call the Blues to action. Frisk wasn't just any human; she was the child of the exiled queen. The queen, Alice would reveal, who had been murdered in cold blood by the royal guard.

Mon and Alice argued all night about revealing Chara's existence as well. Although not as prominent, he was still a figurehead in what the Blues believed. However, there were some things that should never be shared with the public.

"I still don't like that you're doing this," Mon stated as they sat in Alice's room, Alice holding the phone as she practiced saying her piece for all to hear. Mon secretly hoped Alice wouldn't be able to get through the line, but Waterfall "conveniently" lost most of its cell signal earlier that day thanks to Papyrus and Temmie's journey to "go get groceries" off The Island. Only those with cells connected to the Undernet would be functional in Waterfall as the show began.

"We have to do what we can to save Frisk," Alice stated, her argument never changing. "If enough monsters know who she is, they'll stand up to fight for her. Look how popular her fan page is! There are plenty of monsters who won't want to see her die tonight, especially if we call them to action."

"Followers on a website don't mean a thing," Mon argued. "Besides, Frisk wanted to keep all of this a secret for a reason. Whatever that reason is, shouldn't you still respect that wish?"

"Not when this could make a difference in saving her life."

"How do you know this information getting out won't ruin her life? Even if the Blues are suddenly interested in saving her, the Reds are definitely going to be interesting in killing her that much quicker."

For a heartbeat, Alice seemed to hesitate. Then she decided, "No, I can't let this opportunity pass. The Reds want to kill Frisk and take her soul regardless. Our only option is to give Blues a reason to fight."

"No, we have other options, but you're refusing to see them." Mon stood from the bed and walked towards the door. Growling, she used her tail to turn the knob.

"Where are you going?" Alice asked.

"Home, or at least the 'home' my family set up here. I want nothing more to do with this."

"Mon, please, this isn't the time to be petty."

"Me, petty? Ha! You're so funny, Alice."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you don't know when you're overstepping boundaries," Mon answered. "You want to be there for people, help those who are hurting, and save those who can't save themselves. There's nothing wrong with that. Actually, that's the coolest part about you.

"But you don't know when enough is enough. You can't be there for everyone, you won't always know the best way to help, and sometimes the best way to save someone is to take a step back and understand if you act you might just make things worse. But your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness. News flash, Alice, it's not your job to fix everything."

Ears pressed down and eyes narrowed, Alice simply said, "I'm doing what I can to help my friend. If you can't see that, then maybe it's best you go."

All Mon replied before she walked out of the room was, "If you're really Frisk's friend, you won't make that call."

"Good evening, beauties!" Mettaton greeted the camera, Frisk standing by his side. His suit was a dark red, a well-fitted contrast to Frisk's blue dress. The color coordination was no accident. "Welcome to our final show! Tonight, Ms. Fox will compete in the final trial."

When the spotlight landed on her, Frisk smiled and waved at the camera. For extra effect, she blew kisses at the audience. They loved it.

"It seems our time together is quickly coming to an end," Mettaton told Frisk, looking at her as if she was a dear friend and not an obstacle in his path.

Smiling just as warmly, Frisk replied, "The time has come far too soon. How I would have loved to compete in more challenges and meet more monsters. Such a shame it all ends tonight."

"Yes, such a shame indeed." Mettaton placed a hand over his heart. "I hope you will honor me with a dance before the night ends."

"Gladly."

"Before we begin, however," Mettaton announced, "as promised, we will be accepting callers from all around Underground to ask you, Ms. Fox, some of their most burning questions about humanity and the surface. Okay, darlings, call the number on your screen, and you might just get through! Hurry, hurry! We only have fifteen minutes before we cut to commercial break, and when we return, the final trial shall commence!"

To stop herself from squeezing her fingers, Frisk kept her hands behind her back. It took a lot of effort to keep from biting her lip instead. She realized she held her breath and forced herself to breathe again.

"Yes, yes, hello? You're on the air, darling!" Mettaton exclaimed after a few seconds that Frisk was sure were more like hours. "Do you have any questions for Ms. Fox?"

"First off," the caller began, "Mettaton, I love you. Like, really love you. I named my firstborn child after you."

"What a lucky child! Now, questions for Ms. Fox?"

"Oh, yes! Frisk—Can I call you Frisk? Frisk, I keep hearing rumors that there is this large, burning, yellow thing in the sky. It sounds like a bunch of nonsense, but there are those who believe it's true! Tell me, is there a large, burning, yellow thing in the sky?"

"Yes," Frisk said, nodding and smiling while hiding the sadness she felt knowing this was a legitimate question. "It's called the sun, and it's so bright, you'll go blind if you look directly at it."

"That sounds terrifying! You have to be lying. There's no way such a dangerous thing truly exists."

"It does, but it's not all bad. The sun provides light and warmth. Believe me, it's real."

"Thank you, thank you," Mettaton said, letting the caller know his time was up. "Next question! Hello? Hello, hello! You're on the air!"

"Oh, my gosh! Hi! Yes, sorry, this is probably a dumb question, but are you really a human? I don't think you look anything like what I've been told a human looks like."

"I'm sure I'm human." Frisk made a show of studying her arms and looking over herself. With faux satisfaction, she concluded. "Yep, I'm human."

On and on this went. Every question no different from the last. There was an ache in Frisk's heart knowing that everyone who asked about the sun and moon and stars, wind, and the weather did not and could not have personal experience with the thing Frisk, as a child, took for granted before she fell inside Mt. Ebott.

"Last caller." Mettaton smiled when a line finally came through. "Hello, hi! You're on the air!"

"Really? Awesome!"

Frisk's heart sank. There wasn't a doubt that was Alice's voice on the other line. Why's Alice calling?

"I have a question for Frisk," Alice began, talking as if she didn't know Frisk personally. "Frisk, where did you grow up?"

What's Alice up to?

"The surface," Frisk said, remembering Chara insisting she not ever talk about the Ruins.

"Okay, but how long ago did you fall Underground? Was it very recently, or . . . ?"

"Come on, gorgeous," Mettaton prompted when Frisk failed to respond. "Answer our lovely caller."

"I fell Underground over eight years ago," Frisk whispered, and Mettaton made her repeat herself louder.

"Interesting," Alice mused. "So, where were you for the last eight years if you were within Underground this whole time?"

Frisk tried to swallow, but she couldn't past the lump in her dry throat. "The Ruins."

"Wait, you spent eight years in the Ruins? How did you survive, being human Underground and all? Was there someone to take care of you?"

"Yes." Alice asked for a name, but Frisk didn't give it. Although she didn't know what Alice was planning, Frisk didn't trust it.

What a day it was for Frisk to trust Chara more than Alice.

"It was Toriel, wasn't it?" Alice "guessed" when Frisk still didn't reply. Gasps echoed through the auditorium. "The exiled Queen Toriel Dreemurr was your adopted mother, wasn't she?"

Frisk didn't need to answer. The tears escaping from her eyes and running down her face told enough.

"Where is she now, Frisk?"

"She's . . . she's gone," Frisk said softly, and this time Mettaton did not ask her to repeat herself. The entire audience collectively held its breath. Some monsters could probably hear Frisk's heart pounding in her chest.

"Gone, like dead, huh? I'm so sorry. Who killed her?" Frisk squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling faster now. "Who killed your mother, Frisk?"

"Mew Mew of the Royal Guard!" Frisk cried out, telling Alice what she wanted to hear just so the monster would stop pressing her. "They heard rumors about a human in the Ruins and went to investigate. They attacked my home. They killed my mom. And it's all my fault."

There was a monstrous roar in the audience, loud enough and scary enough for Frisk to snap her eyes back open and look for the source. King Asgore's silhouette stood out in the crowd. The monster king stormed violently through the auditorium, knocking aside everything and everyone in his path.

"Cut! CUT!" Mettaton had to shout multiple times before the cameras were shut off. When they were no longer being broadcasted, Mettaton turned his deathly glare towards Frisk.

"I didn't plan for that to happen!" Frisk cried, walking backwards to get away from the angered monster. "I had no plans to tell anyone about that. I don't know—"

Faster than Frisk could process, Mettaton lunged towards her and threw her over his shoulder as he used his jets to fly away. They flew out of the auditorium, crashing through a few walls in the process. When they were away from the madness going on with the audience and producers, Mettaton threw Frisk down so hard she hit her head.

While the world was black, Frisk saw that all too familiar star that always visited whenever she fell asleep. As with all the other times before, she reached out for it. She touched it, and the recognizable chime echoed around her.

Then she was brought back to awareness when a sharp pain tore through her skull. Opening her eyes, Frisk saw Mettaton's face inches from hers. His fingers roughly held her up by her hair, and he scowled at her as if she was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen.

"Do you have any idea what anything you just revealed is going to do?" he snarled.

"I didn't plan to—I don't know—"

Mettaton threw Frisk down again. Pushing herself upright, Frisk cowered as Mettaton stood over her. His hand transformed into a gun of sorts, and when he aimed it at her, a pinkish-purple light began glowing from the inside.

"I would say it's been a pleasure, Ms. Fox," Mettaton said, one final performing smile on his face, "but you're worth more dead than alive."

"What just happened?!" Chara exclaimed right as Mettaton shouted cut. The show broke off, and a screen apologizing for their technical difficulties popped up. Chara looked at Sans, and the skeleton monster seemed just as shocked as he was.

"That little," Sans began, and Chara couldn't understand the rest. He knew Sans meant Alice. Whatever the rabbit monster hoped to accomplish, it couldn't have been what was inevitably going to follow.

Mew Mew swore, reminding him and Sans that she was still in the room.

"We need to hurry," she said, turning back to the computer. "King Asgore is going to have my head. Literally. We need to fix this so I can get the hell out of here."

"You should have thought of that before you killed his wife," Sans returned, turning off the television to focus on the computer.

Mew Mew didn't respond. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her brows furrowed and lips pursed. Then, "Hey, I think I found something."

It was just as Mew Mew looked at that something and messed with it that the entire Core exploded, killing everyone inside, and destroying Chara's locket and his soul within.

Sans blinked, and he was back in the Core just as the TV flashed its "We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties. Sorry For The Inconvenience" screen. Slowly, he turned his attention to Chara, who began to understand just as he did.

"A reset," Chara muttered, eyes back on the screen. "The whole day didn't reset, but it's still a reset."

Mew Mew swore, and the guys turned their attention towards her.

"We need to hurry," she said as before as she turned back to the computer. "King Asgore is going to have my head. Literally. We need to fix this so I can get the hell out of here."

This time, Sans didn't say anything. He went straight back to work. Frisk was in danger, but they were stuck here until they could fix the issue in the Core.

Although there was no knowing how many times there would be a reset before they were able to get the job done and pull Frisk out of whatever situation was getting her killed.

"Hey, I think I found something."

"Don't mess with it!" Sans snapped.

"Why?"

"Just listen to me on this," Sans said, and fortunately, she did.

What was unfortunate, however, was the loop they had found themselves in.

No matter the progress they made with the Core, good and bad, time would ultimately reset back to when the show was abruptly ended. As with the time when she was poisoned with deathlust, Frisk was trapped in a cycle of dying, resetting, and dying again. Sans didn't dare think about what or who was killing her. The number of resets, too many to count, was sickening enough each time it happened. What was even worse was the knowledge that these resets were the result of Frisk's multiple deaths.

"Try this one," Chara said, pointing out another web to untangle. Working together, Sans and Chara began to solve the puzzle left inside the system. With each reset, although they had to start over, they fixed issues quicker than the previous time. Each reset also lasted longer as well. Just as they were learning how to survive this mess, Frisk was learning to survive whatever situation she fought.

Each time a reset happened, Sans and Chara redid everything they already learned to untangle faster than the previous time. Sans warned Mew Mew against findings that acted as death traps, and Sans learned what deathtraps he came across. Yet no matter how much he learned, Frisk was still dying.

"There. There!" Chara pointed out. "That's the problem!"

Before Sans could test that, there was another reset, and he had to start all over again. He didn't even take the time to swear. All he did was use the techniques he knew would work and get back to the point he was before the reset. Sans looked at what Chara pointed out. Holding his breath, Sans untangled the knot.

Passcode Accepted
Command Received
Systems On

They were the most beautiful words Sans had ever seen.

"You did it!" Mew Mew exclaimed, throwing herself back and wiping her forehead.

"Yeah," Sans sadly replied, "but for how long?"

Before Mew Mew could ask what he meant, everything was reset. Everything they did was undone. The problem was again unsolved.

"Don't give up!" Chara insisted. "We know how to do it now. We're getting faster, and Frisk is lasting longer. The end is in sight."

"If there even is an end," Sans muttered. "We've done this dozens of times now. When is the last time going to be the last time?"

"I don't know what you two are talking about," Mew Mew interrupted, blissfully oblivious, "but we need to get to work now."

"I'm working," Sans grunted, turning back to the computer.

Hold on, kid, Sans thought, knowing he couldn't send the message to Frisk but went ahead anyway. We'll be there soon. Just stop dying long enough for us to get there.

"Hey—"

"NO!"

Frisk no longer cried out as Mettaton held her up by the hair. The phantom pain of all her previous deaths never went away before he was on her again. It wasn't that Frisk had grown used to it, but she was numb to having her hair pulled and being flung around like a ragdoll.

"Do you have any idea what anything you just revealed is going to do?" he snarled for what must have been the hundredth time.

In response, Frisk brought up her knee and kicked him square in the chest. The surprised Mettaton dropped Frisk, and she took the opportunity to scramble away. After going through this battle so many times and dying each instance, Frisk knew where to go and what to do.

As she ran for cover behind the cabinet – dodge left then right then right again to avoid mini bombs hurled at her. She slid behind a flipped table and waited only a moment before rushing towards the other as Mettaton's heel kick tore through the metal. Jumping over a puddle, Frisk nearly avoided being electrocuted by the shockwave Mettaton sent in her direction.

"I don't want to fight you," Frisk insisted even though Mettaton wouldn't listen. He never did. "I didn't know being Toriel's daughter is a bad thing. Please, there's got to be a way to figure something out!"

She could have said Mettaton's words along with him. "There's nothing to figure out. Once I have your soul, all our problems will be solved."

"You will only succeed in creating more problems." Frisk jumped out of the way of Mettaton's blast from his canon arms. The fridge exploded and caught fire.

"Our problems began with humanity." The smoke detectors kicked in as Mettaton spoke, and the sprinklers went off, coating the kitchen set in water. "Ending humanity will end our problems. You are the final piece we need to truly begin ridding this world of monsterkind's greatest enemy."

Frisk jumped out of the way of more bombs. "I'm not your enemy, or at least I don't want to be."

"I don't care what you want, Ms. Fox," Mettaton replied as he slowly approached, calm and confident like a predator that knows it can play with its prey all day without any consequences. "I care what my audience wants, and they want to be free from this mountain. They want to be free from the past. They want bloodshed."

Crackling as Frisk pressed herself against the wall, Mettaton continued his steady advancement. "My killing you is a mercy, human. King Asgore will make you suffer. I will make this quick."

Liar, Frisk thought. Not that Mettaton's methods of killing her were slow, but they were not quick either. Worse of all, whether by bomb or blast or kick, his attacks hurt too much to bear yet again.

Frisk swallowed, unsure what to do now. This was where she always got stuck. No matter the argument she presented or the escape route she tried to take, Mettaton always got her there. Very few of his attacks could be dodged at this range. Unless Frisk could think of something new to try, something that had to promise some sort of different outcome, she would just die again.

Dying was really getting old.

There wasn't much more Frisk could take.

One could only be killed so many times before becoming willing to try anything to stop it.

"Kill or be killed," Chara's words from so long ago echoed.

No! Frisk pressed herself further into the wall, her chance of fleeing gone as Mettaton grew closer. I will not kill. I will not kill.

"How can you avenge your mother if you can't even kill the relentless killer in front of you?" Flowey's voice taunted from the back of her mind.

Mettaton's cold fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. She clawed at his fingers, the action useless. Slamming Frisk hard against the steel wall, Mettaton grinned as he held his canon in front of her face. Frisk's spine became like iron, her muscles tensing for the pain that was to come. This was one of her more painful deaths, and Mettaton always asked the same question before blowing a hole through her head.

"Any last words, gorgeous?"

Eyes flickering to the counter and back, Frisk answered through her nearly closed off throat as she reached for the frying pan, "Not today I don't."

Moving first and thinking later, Frisk slammed the frying pan against the robot's side of the head. Mettaton stumbled but didn't let go this time. He and Frisk fell down together.

Frisk didn't hesitate to wrestle out of Mettaton's grasp and jump to her feet, frying pan in hand. Slowly, Mettaton rose to his knees and glared at her. He bared his teeth.

"You're going to pay dearly for that, darling," he snarled.

Before Frisk could think of a response, he lunged for her.

Chara and Sans knew the quickest way to fully access the Core. Within seconds, the Core's internal temperature mechanisms were back on. Throwing himself back in his chair, Sans exhaled loudly.

They had been at this for hours. Days, possibly. Stuck redoing the same problem again and again and again and again and again. Learning much along the way, but unable to save progress. Always progressing to have to start all over.

"Why didn't you work that fast before?" the blissfully unaware Mew Mew asked, eyes narrowed even as her posture relaxed. "We could have fixed this ages ago."

"I didn't know the things then that I know now," Sans answered, barely looking at her.

"We need to go," Chara urged, wanting to kick Sans in the ribs for dilly dallying when Frisk was in danger. "If we don't save Frisk from getting killed again, you will have to do all that again."

Mew Mew opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she was about to say was lost when Sans said, "I have someplace I need to be. Too important to stay for much longer. Try not to miss me too much, kay?"

With that said, Sans teleported outside the Core. The sweltering heat greeted them, and somehow it was stuffier outside than in. It would take a few hours, but in time the temperature would return to normal.

"Where's Mettaton keeping Frisk?" Sans asked, eyes on Chara.

"She's being held prisoner in the castle in Waterfall," Chara answered, and the world vanished again as Sans teleported from place to place, only able to travel so far with each teleportation.

After over half a dozen jumps through space, they were on the edge of the castle. Where Frisk was within the stone walls, neither knew. Finding her without getting caught alone could take more resets if Frisk wasn't able to fight off the danger for long.

Although it had been a long time already. Either Frisk was safe, or . . .

No, Chara told himself. Frisk is alive. She wouldn't let herself die after promising to stay determined.

"You're going to have to be careful," was all Chara said. "Leave the out in the open explorations for me."

"What? No secret tunnels or passageways in this old castle?"

"I know, I'm disappointed too."

Teleporting inside wasn't as difficult as it should have been. Then again, monsters were freaking out over suddenly shutting down the show and figuring out where Mettaton and the human went. Not to mention King Asgore was greatly disturbed by the revelation of that night's show.

King Asgore paced the halls, grumbling so loudly he must have been seconds away from yelling at nobody in particular. All the other monsters avoided his rampage if they needed to pass through. No one tried to talk to him.

"Sheesh, he clearly didn't take the news well," Sans said as he crouched behind a knocked over table.

Looking at the skeleton monster then back at the monster king, Chara tried to swallow. This was the king, his father figure, and his killer. "King Dad" his child self used to call Asgore. The last time Chara was this close to Asgore, it was when the king executed Chara for Asriel's as well as many other monsters' deaths. Chara would never, ever forget the look of betrayal and despair in Asgore's eyes as they beheld his human son one last time before reaping his soul.

"You go that way," Chara told Sans, pointing down the least crowded path, "and I'll handle that crowded mess."

Before Chara could stalk away, Sans asked, "Hey, gramps, you okay?"

"No," Chara answered, surprised the truth was the first thing to fall from his mouth. "But that doesn't matter right now. We need to find Frisk."

This time Chara didn't give Sans a chance to say anything else. He bolted down the hall, passing Asgore along the way. His chest constricted as he came so close to the king, and if he still had a heartbeat, it would have skyrocketed. However, this was the path with the most monsters. It was safer for Chara to come this way than it would have been for Sans.

When he made it to the scene of the big revelation, Chara quickly surveyed the area. He saw Muffet directing the crowd, her eyes occasionally flickering to the hole in the wall. When she spoke, her voice took on a weird pitch.

"No, no, not like that! If you break that equipment, it will come out of your paycheck. Trust me when I say you don't want that – I wrote the check for it, and it costs more than your shabby apartment." Muffet's phone went off. She checked the caller ID and put her phone away, muttering something that sounded like, "I'll have to call her back."

As Chara walked across the room, eyes locked on the anxious monster, he heard one of the interns ask, "Where's Mettaton?"

"He should be back soon, dearie," Muffet answered, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself more than the other monster. "You know how he likes to have big performances. At any minute, he'll be parading in with the human's soul in hand."

Chara walked out of the room and followed the holes in the walls. The biggest advantage to not being solid was the ability to walk through walls. Instead of twisting and turning to find where he wanted to go, Chara could take the same straight path Mettaton did without causing any more damage to the old castle.

When he passed the last wall, Chara was back in the kitchen set, wet from the now dying sprinklers. There were no more walls to signal Mettaton flew further, but that wasn't what stopped him. What halted Chara in his tracks was the sound of sobbing.

"Frisk!" Chara bolted towards the sound of her crying. When he rounded the corner, he froze at the sight before him.

Metallic parts laid everywhere. An arm here. A leg there. Wires sparked from where they had been violently torn apart. Mettaton's head rested against an overturned table, his lifeless orbs staring into the nothingness.

No wonder the resets stopped happening.

Pushing forward, Chara found Frisk tucked into a corner, her knees pressed against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her dress was torn, her makeup smudged, and her hairpiece askew. As Chara grew closer, he could see cuts and bruises on her exposed skin. Her neck was turning purple from a choker of bruises. Dried blood caked her arms and side, but the lack of flow indicated the wounds were clotted but might reopen if Frisk wasn't careful.

Frisk's forehead was buried in her knees, and a frying pan was gripped in her left hand. She cried so hard her shoulders shook. Chara knelt by her side, wishing there was a way to alert her to his presence and tell her it was all right.

Sniffling, Frisk lifted her head up and rested her chin on her knees. She took a shaky breath, probably attempting to calm down. Tears still flowed unrestrained.

Unsure why he did, Chara reached forward and held his fingers close to Frisk's cheek as if offering a touch of comfort. Not as if it was something he could give. He whispered her name, hoping someway somehow she could be made aware of his presence.

Then something strange happened. Frisk brought her free hand up to her face and held her fingers above her cheek, the same cheek Chara held his own fingers over. Sighing, Frisk closed her eyes and held her hand there.

Perhaps it was nothing more than a coincidence, but Chara liked to believe that deep down, Frisk could sense he was there with her.

A loud bang jolted them out of the moment. Frisk dropped her hand and tightened her grip on the pan. Shrinking in on herself, her wide eyes remained set on from where the sound came.

Chara rushed towards the noise to find Sans pushing his way through the fallen equipment. "She's this way," Chara told the monster, and Sans nodded to signal he heard.

When they approached Frisk, her dread melted to relief when she saw the skeleton monster drawing forward. "Sans," she whispered, so much weight on the one word.

Before Sans could say anything, Frisk dropped the frying pan, pushed herself to her feet, and rushed towards him. Throwing her arms around Sans, Frisk buried her face into his shoulder and cried anew. Sans returned the hug as he surveyed the damage.

"I-I didn't mean to," she hiccupped, not stating what it was she didn't mean to do. It was plenty obvious what she meant. "I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen. I didn't know what else to do. Should I try again? Should I keep trying until I find some way this can end differently?"

"Should I reset?" was the question Frisk asked. After multiple resets from dying by Mettaton's hand, Frisk wanted to know if she should reset to avoid killing Mettaton before he could kill her.

Chara didn't have an answer, but Sans did.

"Not everything can be resolved by being nice," he said, rubbing her back.

Gasping, Frisk went still. Chara looked in the direction Frisk was staring to see Flowey grinning at her. The flower's smile grew, and Frisk visibly tensed and tightened her grip on Sans.

"What's wrong?" Sans let Frisk go, saw where she looked, and turned around. However, the flower was already gone. "Kid, are you okay?"

"No," Frisk whispered, then her knees gave out.

Sans caught her, and Frisk clung to him. "We're getting you out of here," he announced.

A scream tore through the air. All three turned their attention towards Muffet, who covered her mouth with all six hands. Her eyes traveled between piece to piece before finally settling on Frisk and Sans.

"What did you do to him?" she growled, her arms falling to her sides. Baring her fangs, she again demanded, "What did you do to him?!"

Before yet another fight could break out, Sans teleported away. Chara didn't know which was harder to watch as the world shifted: Muffet's anger and breaking heart over the fate of her lover, or how Frisk held onto Sans as he carried her away.