It took a little while to sort through the available questions, but once they were ready, the trinity adjusted themselves to be a bit more comfortable.

Chara remarked, "I imagine... some of these will be a bit intense."

Green shrugged. "yeah, but we expect it, so that means it can't be that bad. plus, it's the second to last round? easy."

Baxter added confidently, "We will succeed in this task. I have faith." It then inquired, "How do we summon the candidates?"

Green leaned back in his chair. "we just wait, probably."

Chara considered this. "I mean, maybe. But they're probably waiting outside. Right?"

Green shook his head. "nah, see, last time, they were just teleported in."

"Did...'he' teleport them in?" she asked.

"well, yeah," Green admitted. "why do you ask?"

Baxter picked up on her implication. "She is suggesting his absence might mean we need to check beyond the door."

"got it, thanks, BB." Green gave a thumbs up.

Chara rose from her seat at the table. She oriented herself, scanning the room to find the door that led out. Starting toward it, memories of the fight she'd had here clawed their way to the surface. A low tension crept through her, her breathing slowing despite the unease. Her fingers twitched with phantom pain as sections of the floor rumbled passively, a few faintly shaking.

Opening the door, she scanned the hallway beyond. It was devoid of life or even the semblance of the old chess-guards. She closed the door, standing still for a moment as realization dawned on her. A hand rested on the door while, unseen to her but visible to you, faint splinters and cracks began to form on the other side.

"Yeah, they're... not outside," she said with a tired breath before turning back. "We probably have to... call out, get his... attention."

Baxter heard her suggestion and promptly obliged. "Hello, Collector. It is Baxter." It made a small chirping sound. "We are prepared for the first candidate."

Nothing happened.

Green frowned at the lack of response. "heya, big boss man. wanna start the process?" He added, "please and thank you?"

Still, nothing happened.

Your Vessel grew tense and let out a defeated sigh. "Collector," Chara began before correcting herself. "Asriel." A faint draft stirred in the room, carrying a whisper of movement. "Please... bring in the first candidate."

There was a rush of motion as light began to swirl around one of the seats. Taking the hint, she moved toward her chair, adjusting her jacket's hood before sitting down.

Baxter felt perplexed. Green had also said please and even added thank you. Why did it only work with Chara? Was it because she was your Vessel?

The light flashed, cutting through its thoughts.

The first to arrive had, well, arrived.

You were greeted by the first candidate, whom you might internally refer to as Toriel 1, but will simply be called Toriel for simplicity's sake.

When she arrived, the scene was, well, a bit immodest. Toriel's outfit was strikingly unconventional. She appeared "dressed up," wearing a pair of leggings beneath shorts and a sweater often referred to as a virgin-killer. The look was completed with black lipstick and eyeliner, giving her a more youthful appearance than many variants you had encountered. A younger adult, to be precise, though her eyes betrayed the weight of a far longer life lived behind them.

Her figure, modest yet accentuated by the outfit, was clearly dressed to impress. Upon appearing, she stumbled forward, letting out an "eep" of surprise. One arm shot out to steady herself against the table, while the other, previously outstretched as though touching something or someone, thumped against it.

Shaking herself off, Toriel glanced around, visibly confused. Her arrival elicited varied reactions from the room. Green tried to stifle laughter. The reason for his restraint became clear in contrast to Chara, who was visibly embarrassed the moment she got a proper look at this version of Toriel, her face quickly turning red. Baxter, ever composed, simply welcomed the first candidate without much thought about her attire.

"Who—where—why am I—" Toriel huffed, standing up. "What is this? Where am I? What did you do?"

Before anyone else could answer, Chara cut in. "What the hell are you wearing?" she demanded, shaking her head. "WHY are you wearing that?"

Toriel blinked, clearly recognizing the voice. She gave Chara a more thorough look. "Ah, you're a Chara," she said, her tone softening. "S-sorry, I've... well, humans don't live on my floor anymore," she admitted. "I'd almost forgotten what you sounded like."

Chara hesitated, sorting through her thoughts before repeating, "What are you wearing?"

Toriel shrugged. "I was on a date before being dragged here."

Green interjected with a sly grin. "lucky them."

Toriel smirked at him. "He's honestly a bit out of his league, but I like it that way."

Chara grimaced, nearly gagging. "No, please, stop... No, no. Bad. We can just... wait until you wear more clothes than that. We'll get back to you later."

The monster woman chuckled, clearly amused by the reaction. "You sound exactly like my daughter did," she remarked before snapping her fingers. Flames swept across her fur, solidifying into a long blue-and-black jacket that covered her more thoroughly. "Is that better?"

Chara risked another look and nodded. "Yeah, I guess." After a moment, she dared to ask, "You were... on a date?"

"Yes," Toriel confirmed. "I met a librarian named Grillby. Well, a Grillby. He's quite adorable—easily flustered and very kind." She added with a fond smile, "It's cute."

Green tilted his head. "yeah? how's that work out with, uh, the fur?"

Toriel chuckled playfully. "Please, funnybones. I'm well past fire immune." She winked. "Gotta take advantage of it, you know?"

Green heard Chara's whimper of embarrassment and couldn't help but laugh softly. "thus the virgin-killer. I get it. game to game—nice."

"Baby, you know it," Toriel replied confidently.

Chara groaned. "Please stop. Please stop right now. The last thing I need to think about is my mom trying to—" She gagged. "Ugh, get laid."

Toriel appeared amused but relented. "Apologies, my dear. I suppose that confirms another me is your mother." She offered a small, sympathetic smile. "Hopefully, she is well?"

"Uh, yeah, she's fine, I guess," Chara said, though she didn't sound entirely sure. "But, you said you have a daughter?"

"Had," Toriel corrected gently. "She showed up in my garden one day, bleeding. Poor thing." She paused, her tone softer. "I tended to her wounds and tried to prepare her for a journey back to the surface, but... she didn't wish to go."

Baxter pondered this and asked. "Your Chara is no longer around?"

Toriel shook her head. "No. I'm a Boss Monster, dear. I don't age, don't grow older—unless I have a biological child." She gestured lightly. "And since I never did, well... only one of us could grow older." A faint smile returned as she added, "I did have grandchildren for a time, though. She developed a fondness for one of my neighbor's sons."

Chara shifted awkwardly. "I'm... sorry to hear that. W-well, not... I mean, I—"

"I know, my dear. It's okay," Toriel assured her gently before refocusing. "Now that I can think clearly... I assume this is the 'interview' for a new life?"

Green, who had been waiting patiently, responded, "yup." He gestured lightly to a sheet of paper, as he added, "we've got a dozen questions and limited time, though—on account of there being only one slot and all that." He leaned forward. "you got time?"

"I'm game," Toriel said with a confident grin, leaning back in her chair. "Lay me, funnybones." She immediately corrected herself, "Er, lay it on me... forgive me, my mind's in the gutter today."

"that's where mine usually is," Green replied with a chuckle, which Toriel shared. "hey, maybe—"

"Hey, hi!" Chara cut in sharply. "What world are you from?"

Toriel answered, "From what I've been told, I come from an 'Alternate Timeline' of an 'Undertale' world. The key difference being that I didn't marry Asgore. Which, it seems, is a 'typical' thing to happen in other worlds for some reason."

Baxter asked her directly. "Why didn't you marry Asgore?"

"Because I didn't want to," Toriel said matter-of-factly, raising a brow. "We only met a few times when I was younger. But before I could get to know him well, the war happened." Her gaze turned distant as she recalled. "I met him a few more times after, and he seemed fond of me. However, I suppose the deciding factor was my child." She sighed lightly. "He was keen to take her soul to gather enough power to shatter the barrier. And I couldn't—wouldn't—let that happen."

Chara lowered her head slightly. "That's… hard to hear."

Toriel softened her tone. "I'm sorry, dear. Are your parents still together?"

"No," Chara admitted quietly. "But my dad wouldn't have done that. He isn't around, though, so it's…" She hesitated, gathering her thoughts. "After I… was hurt, my brother did something reckless. He nearly died, and Dad gave him his soul. Saved Asriel, but… it killed him in the process." She shrugged faintly. "So, not so much?"

Toriel gave her a warm, understanding smile. "It sounds like he was an amazing man. I'm sorry I never met someone like him."

"Don't be. We all walk different roads," Chara replied.

Baxter spoke up with the next question, steering the conversation. "What is your favorite color?"

Toriel smiled. "I'm fond of blue. I think it's a very calming color." She gestured to her outfit, the dark blue and black hues accentuating her form. "Plus, it complements my figure nicely."

Green jumped in with his own question. "so, how's the magic? what's your specialty?"

"Fire magic, mostly," Toriel answered. "But I specialized in conjuration." She leaned forward slightly and smiled. "It's how I make all my clothes. It means I can just…" She snapped her fingers, demonstrating as the air shimmered faintly, one of her sleeves vanishing. "Whisk them away on a whim."

Green gave a playful nod. "what a stunning display of magical prowess."

Toriel chuckled. "It is, isn't it?"

Chara cleared her throat. "Moving on. What role do you want?"

Toriel tilted her head thoughtfully. "That's a bit vague. I was once the caretaker of The Ruins, but I'd rather not go back to that. It was a rather confined and lonely space." She paused, recalling. "I moved with Chara to Snowdin. It's where she grew up. I operated a shop there, so… maybe something like that?"

Chara let out a small laugh. "How do you feel about transportation?"

Toriel's expression softened at the sound of her laugh, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "You always had such a beautiful laugh," she said, surprising Chara.

"I… thanks?" Chara replied, unsure how to respond.

Toriel's smile wavered slightly. "Yours sounds… pained," she observed gently, her tone concerned. "Are you alright?"

Chara hesitated, the weight of the question evident in her posture. "I… this… Sadly, our time is limited, so we can't…" She trailed off before forcing a smile. "It's fine. I'll be fine."

Toriel didn't look convinced but chose not to press further.

Green stepped in to redirect the conversation. "heya, mama. do you understand what's being asked of you here?" He gestured to the group and the room. "like, what this is, exactly?"

Toriel met his gaze thoughtfully. "It's a second chance, isn't it? A new story to write."

Baxter nodded. "In a sense, yes. It's an entirely new life."

"Fascinating," Toriel murmured, intrigued.

Chara then asked, "Why would you… want it?"

Toriel's response was calm and unflinching. "That's not complicated. It's because I have nothing left that matters," she admitted plainly. "My world, and whatever distant kindred I had, have both long passed. Don't mistake that for me not liking life—I do. I find ways to occupy my time. However, it's not fulfilling, not meaningful. Even when I try to make it so. I think I've lived too long."

"Don't… don't say that," Chara protested quietly, her voice wearing her discomfort.

Toriel reached across the table slightly. "It's fine, dear one," she assured gently. "A new life means a chance at a fitting ending. And, in that sense, I must ask… If you had a second chance to do things right, wouldn't you take it?"

Chara didn't answer. Instead, she sank into her hood, growing quiet as her mind wrestled with the question. Her silence was telling—heavy with contemplation and reflection.

Sensing the tension in the room, Green interjected, trying to lighten the mood. "so, how many parties have you been to?"

Toriel countered with a raised brow. "How many have you been to?"

"eh, never enough," he quipped.

"Funny, that's my answer too," she replied with a faint smile.

Baxter promptly inquired. "Why do you believe you would be fit for this position? What separates you from the competition?"

Toriel folded her hands gracefully. "I've lived a full, quiet life of love, loss, and simplicity," she began, her voice steady. "And I've lived a hectic, empty life filled with lust, joy, and complexity. I don't know what might transfer to this new life, but I hope the wisdom I've managed to gather—however much or little it is—will come with me."

Chara, skimming her list of questions, glanced up. "Have you ever killed before?"

The room fell silent. Finally, Toriel answered softly, "No. Not even when I should have."

Chara pressed on. "And when was that?"

Toriel's gaze turned distant. "I once participated in a World Tournament within my timeline. I won my fight, but I was disqualified for refusing to 'finish off' my opponent."

"The Collector tends to disapprove of that," Chara murmured knowingly.

After a pause, Chara asked another question, her voice quieter. "If you hated yourself, what would you do about it?"

Toriel tilted her head, her expression pensive. "I'd learn to forgive myself," she said gently, "even if it took a lifetime. And sometimes...it does."

Chara's lips tightened. "A nice sentiment for those who have one to spare." She moved to the next question. "Have you ever been forgotten?"

Toriel's shoulders sagged slightly as she answered. "Yes. When my Chara passed, my grandchildren visited less and less. Their children even less so. It felt as though the world moved on without me. When they did remember me, it was only when they needed my help to fight. Even then, they no longer knew my name."

Green gave Chara a nudge, breaking the somber air. "okay, time for the reallllly heavy questions." He smirked as Chara rolled her eyes. "how do you feel about Jerry?"

Toriel blinked, bemused. "I don't know who Jerry is."

Baxter chimed in. "If you were a rock, how would you entertain yourself?"

Toriel chuckled softly. "Interesting question. I'd probably get stoned."

Green laughed some. "nice one."

Chara's tone shifted, her next question almost hesitant as your voice whispered through her. "If you made a mistake," memories flickered behind her eyes, "one you couldn't fix," the feeling of warm blood turning cold, "and everyone hated you for it," sitting alone at an empty grave, "how would you try to make things right?"

Concern flickered in Toriels eyes, as she studied Chara. "I would apologize, even if it changed nothing," she said after a moment. "Not to those who demanded it, but to myself. You cannot change what happened—it's a sad truth—but we often blame ourselves for things beyond our control."

Chara pulled her hood further forward, her voice subdued. "This is an experiment. Something new." She forced a lighter tone, face in shadows. "Things could go very, very wrong. Knowing that, would you still take the risk?"

"As I said, there's nothing left for me here," Toriel replied evenly. "Fleeting fancies, pointlessly carnal indulgences, and steady withering. I'd much rather risk everything than remain in such emptiness."

Green leaned forward, his voice playful. "how many times have you lied to us during all this?"

Toriel smiled faintly. "Hmm. I don't believe I have. It seems counterproductive to lie, considering who summoned me here."

"fair enough," Green shrugged. "that was the last question."

Or so he thought. But your words whispered forth, questions bubbling into the room like an unseen current.

One voice asked, "How many children have you ever had in your care?"

Toriel tilted her head at the sound, intrigued. "Only the one. What a strange voice…like an instrument."

Chara glanced toward the unseen source of the voice, then back to Toriel. "Didn't anyone else fall down?"

"Some did," Toriel admitted, her gaze thoughtful. "I met several who arrived in Snowdin. One mentioned living with a fox woman who moved into the Ruins after I left. Another ended up in the King's care—a kind child named Cody. My son-in-law's brother also befriended a brave soul who nearly killed someone out of fear, calming them with his 'great and powerful' puzzles."

Another voice asked, "How many of those children died or can be presumed dead?"

Toriel sighed softly. "Of the humans? All but the latest two have passed from old age." She added, "Clover and Frisk—they were only a year apart. I don't know what happened to Clover after our world was consumed, but I suspect they were outside when it vanished. As for Frisk...I know they made it out, but I've no idea where they went."

A third question came. "Have you ever been married? If so, to whom?"

Toriel chuckled lightly. "No, dearest. I've received proposals, but none valid. Well, except one. A human who grew up in the Ruins offered when he became a young man. His name was Mychal, impossibly infatuated with me. Charming, but...I couldn't bear to watch him wither away before me."

Another voice asked, "What's your favorite cooking recipe?"

"I'm a terrible chef," she confessed with a sheepish smile. "I burn most things. Though, I was adept at one point. I do make a rather nice flapjack, though."

The final voice murmured, "If you randomly turned into a snail one day, what would you do if you met yourself?"

Toriel shrugged, amused. "I assume you mean another me. In that case, I'd probably die. Most versions of me still seem to prefer snails, though I've grown out of it."

Baxter cleared his throat, nodding. "That is the final question."

"Charming," Toriel said, her voice light. "What happens now?"

"The typical course of events is—" Baxter began, but a flash of light interrupted him, and Toriel vanished.

Chara's eyes narrowed. "Well, nice to see we'll have time to say our goodbyes."

Green leaned back. "eh, sort of thought we'd get to do the whole 'don't call us, we'll call you' thing."

"He isn't that kind," Chara muttered darkly.

Another flash of light filled the room as the next candidate manifested.

The next figure to appear was already seated—a striking individual who would come to be known in your records as Toriel 2. She seemed to have been abruptly transferred from wherever she had been moments ago.

Her fur was clean yet slightly unkempt, her attire consisting of long white robes layered with a purple tabard. However, the tabard bore clear signs of damage: the Deltarune emblem had been torn off, leaving behind visible stitches. She had only a single eye, the other having been cut out, with a prominent scar marking the wound.

Bandages wrapped around her wrists and ankles faintly glimmered with magical enchantments. Around her neck, a crimson scarf hung loosely, which she was using to wipe away traces of a red "sauce" from her lips, as though she'd been in the middle of a meal when displaced.

Her remaining eye, black with a green glint at its center, swept over the group before her. That gaze carried an intensity swamped with loathing.

Green hesitated but spoke up first. "sorry to interrupt your meal, but—"

"This is the interview I was informed of," Toriel interrupted, her voice composed and carrying an air of authority. Her figure seemed older than the previous Toriel's. "Curious who they have sent to question me: a doppelganger of my child, one of the comedians, and a peculiar little gravestone." Her sharp gaze lingered on Baxter, her eye seeming to pierce through it. Then, she glanced past it, directly at you. "And you as well."

From her eye, a faint trail of blood began to seep, the liquid shimmering with magical essence that crumbled into dust after a short descent. It suggested her body was constructed largely of magic.

Chara tilted her head, intrigued. "You can see them?"

Toriel turned her gaze back from you. "Not for long," she said, dabbing away the blood and dust with the scarf. "I've encountered beings akin to them before—never so loud." Her tone carried a dark chuckle. "I don't need to tell you this, but I've learned that those who lack power suffer internal hemorrhaging if they look too long. Or," she added with grim amusement, "from trying to see at all."

Green raised a brow. "hey, did I guess right? were you, uh, in the middle of a meal?"

"Yes," Toriel answered simply.

Chara sniffed the air and narrowed her eyes. "And... what were you eating?"

Toriel's attention shifted fully to Chara. "We come from the same floor of the unwanted—those banished from most other spaces in the Joined World, child. That you recognize the scent tells me you are all too familiar with what I was consuming."

Chara's tone grew defensive. "I don't do that."

"Anymore," Toriel corrected knowingly, her voice soft yet laced with dark amusement. "You wouldn't recognize it without having done so at least once." Her gaze softened slightly. "Though, I am sorry that you had to."

Baxter, clearly confused, interjected. "What are we talking about? What was it?"

Chara's response was sharp. "Don't ask. It doesn't matter."

"I mean, it kinda sounds like it matters," Green chimed in.

"Drop it, Greeny," Chara ordered firmly.

Green seemed to put the pieces together and paled slightly. "ah, that. right. yeah, maybe we should, uh, move on."

"Agreed," Toriel said, folding her hands neatly on the table. "There are more pressing matters. What is required of me here?"

"answer some questions," Green explained. "let 'them' get an idea of who you are, that kinda thing."

"Very well. Ask me anything," Toriel replied, her demeanor calm and composed.

Chara began. "What world are you from?"

"I am told I hail from a Horrorshift reality," Toriel responded formally.

Baxter asked, "Is your reality still around?"

"It died, as it deserved," she said curtly.

Green frowned. "kinda a rough stance, no?"

Toriel took a measured breath before explaining, "My dear, I was the Captain of the Royal Guard in my home reality—similar to her own mother." She gestured to Chara knowingly. "Though there were many differences between us. A similarity, however, is that I looked after my two children: Asriel and Chara. Alongside my husband, Asgore. For a time, despite concerns of famine, our lives were peaceful."

"not sure how that results in hate for your world," Green said hesitantly.

Her voice hardened. "Being at the mercy of King Sans within it did not contribute to my affection for it. Nor did the fateful arrival of a certain 'human.' When they fell, they began a massacre, and many died." Her tone darkened further. "Among them were some of my dearest friends, my husband, and our son, Asriel."

"yikes," Green muttered.

Chara pressed, "But not your Chara?"

"No," Toriel replied, and for a brief moment, her expression softened with emotion. "My adopted son tried to stop her slaughter at The Core but was left for dead. Had I not reached him in time, he would have perished." Her hand hovered near her missing eye. "His wounds never fully healed; his vision was lost. I used questionable magics to grant him one of my eyes so that he might see again."

She turned her gaze to Baxter and, by extension, you. "When the human—or, to be far more honest, the thing controlling that child, one of you—killed the King and stole the gathered human souls, all hell broke loose in our world." She expanded. "His brother eventually returned, and tried to claim the throne. But he was a fool, whose policies did nothing but drag us deeper into despair. So I removed him."

Green hesitated before asking, "you...killed him?"

"Yes. Does that bother you?" Toriel's tone was steady, almost daring.

"did you have to?" Green followed.

"You do not permit an errant royal to survive when committing a revolution," Toriel stated plainly. "I took the throne and began to repair the great damages that had been done. But though my efforts did start to mend things, it was not fast enough for many." Her gaze drifted to Chara. "My son, my only light left...he had so much faith in us." Her voice wavered. "He fasted, struggled, and grew weaker so that others might endure. And then, they repaid his faith by eating him alive." Her expression turned cold and furious.

"When we arrived in this place, I ensured our world's fighters failed their great contests, leaving only me. Naturally, I sealed the world's exit, ensuring none could escape. I threw my match and damned them all to oblivion."

Green let out a long sigh. "holy fuck, that's dark. Okay."

Toriel turned to Chara. "Do you understand why I did it?"

Chara met her gaze, scanning her thoughtfully. "Yeah. I do."

"Would you forgive it?" Toriel pondered aloud. "Everything I have done?"

Chara considered this for a moment before answering. "Yes."

Toriel seemed almost surprised by the response. A small smile crept across her face, accompanied by a short, sad laugh. She studied Chara quietly.

"I know of you, dear. I've seen your matches and the things you've had to do," Toriel said softly. "I have heard of your loss and what came after. I do not know your own mother, but I would forgive you any fault."

"Thank you," Chara replied, not entirely sincere, though it still felt good—at least a little—to hear.

Baxter interjected curiously. "What magic can you use?"

"I possess dark magic, predominantly," Toriel explained. "Curses, hexes, things that inspire pain without killing, and the ability to mend wounds at a cost." She paused, then added, "I can also use fire magic, though most can. However, I am adept with bone magic as well and can meld the two together."

Green tilted his head. "how'd you manage to pull that off?"

"Through unpleasant means," Toriel said matter-of-factly. "The King was fond of me and requested an affair in exchange for my child's life." She glanced at Green, who visibly shifted in his seat. "I obliged. During our...downtime, he took to teaching me. Next question?"

Chara cut in. "What role do you wish for?"

Toriel appeared to consider the question. "I presume, in this world, I will have a son?"

"From what I know, yes," Chara replied. "Or probably. The specifics aren't certain, according to Baxter."

"Regardless, there will be children vulnerable to..." Toriel's gaze shifted toward you. "Demons?"

Green half-asked, "if you mean, uh, vessels and whatnot?" Toriel nodded. "our pals ain't got any plans to mess with the place."

"Oh, I'm sure they don't. But they aren't the only things like them," Toriel reminded him—and you. "I've spent quite a long time learning how to sever connections like theirs. Although, given how loud they are, I'm not sure it would work on them." She seemed to ponder this aloud before continuing. "Regardless, I would prefer a role where I might protect those souls, in whatever form they take, from those who would harm them."

"do you understand the nature of, uh, all this?" Green asked. "what's being asked of you?"

"You are going to pull me apart into code and plant me in your garden to grow anew," Toriel replied with a solemn nod. "I will not remember me. I will not truly be me. But what I am, the powers I hold, and some of my nature will find their way to that being." She shook her head. "As I said, I've encountered things like them before."

Chara pressed further. "Where did you meet them? Here?"

"Yes. It was some time before your world arrived," Toriel recounted. "The Collector had found several still linked to their pawns in the void. I believe he intended to try and find a way for them to weave the lost into new worlds—to organize his wild garden." A dark snicker escaped her. "However, demons are fickle things, especially when separated from the choir of their hells. They grew bored, determined to see and do things beyond this place. Having gorged themselves, grown fat and strong from his lack of foresight." She sighed, her amusement lingering. "The last one I met tried to invite me to join with their vessel's heart, which they called a world engine."

Baxter inquired curiously. "What's a world engine?"

"I've only a guess, dearest gravestone," Toriel responded. "I imagine they meant to turn a world like your own into a means of empowering themselves. They were genocidal in nature, wanting endless challenges for no reason other than the thrill."

"well, that's disturbing," Green muttered. "don't think ours have that intent."

"I doubt it," Toriel replied. "If they did, they'd have asked more pointed questions—and chosen a far more ruthless Guide than a grieving widow."

Chara huffed. "Moving on to the next question. How many parties have you been to?"

"What charming proof of my point," Toriel remarked dryly. "I attended enough to understand their futility when I was a consort."

Chara's tone shifted, more pressing now. "Why do you believe you're fit for this position? What separates you from the competition?"

"A great deal, I imagine," Toriel replied. "But nothing that is particularly useful in your world. As for why I'd be fit, well, I've already told you what I wish to do—what I can do. If that aligns with your desires, then it will be done."

Green hesitated before asking, "what's to stop that hunger of yours from being a problem?"

Toriel shrugged. "What's stopping hers from being a problem?"

"Chara doesn't do that," Green replied firmly.

"Anymore," Toriel corrected him, adding, "And purpose. I am listless. Why not devour my foes?" she pondered aloud. "I am in a world of familiar strangers, many of whom lack my level of violence. They lack the power to perceive the edges and incomplete pieces," she muttered. "I offered The Collector to become one of his hounds, and he offered me a chance at this before that," she stated flatly. "If you do not take me, I will be as The Faker and his other harbingers are. He does not care what 'I do' with those he wishes gone." Then, more assuredly, she added, "Whatever 'me' I'd make for 'you,' though, would have a life. Have a family. A purpose. Even if she 'had' the hunger, I highly doubt they 'intend' starvation for their shiny little world. So, so long as they retain a peaceful intent, it would never rear its head."

Baxter inquired, "If you hated yourself, what would you do?"

"I'd bury that hate in action, doing what needs to be done, even if it costs me," Toriel responded honestly.

Green cut in, "let's lower that temperature a bit. how do you feel about Jerry?"

"Jerry is just another fool to ignore," Toriel said dismissively. "I've not met a one worth the air they breathe."

One of you cut in to ask a question. "How many children have you ever had in your care?"

"A piano key," Toriel snickered softly. "There you are... and two, primarily. Asriel and Chara, my children," she remarked. "I attempted to care for 'one' other before them, however my 'dear king' discovered them. And I did not yet understand his disregard for the lives of the innocent. Their name was Batty."

You asked another question. "What's your favorite cooking recipe?"

"A cinnamon chocolate cake," Toriel indicated, adding, "It is what I made my children when they were good." She then tilted her head. "Hmm... I am about to vanish from here. It seems our time is up."

Chara asked, "What do you mean? We haven't asked—" There was a flash of light as the second Toriel vanished from the room. "—all the questions."

Green gave a slight wave of his hand. "eh, maybe it's, uh, for the best. she was a very intense person."

Baxter let out a disapproving whirr. "But we still had other inquiries!"

"then we'll just have to ask 'em next time. try and stay on task, and all that, okay, folks?" Green suggested.

Unexpectedly, one of you inquired, "Chara," she raised a brow, glancing over, "what is your favorite color?"

Chara responded, hand grasping her locket, "Orange."

You continued, "Green!Sans."

Green chuckled. "oof, using my government name. okay, what's up, boss?"

"Have you ever met another Green!Sans?" you asked him.

"one. he decided to strike it out on his own with his kid or something," Green recalled, noting, "they, uh, got wiped out by this giant, fuckin'... riverwoman thing. so damn big, I couldn't see where she started or ended."

Chara raised a brow at this. "Are you... making that up?"

"na. scariest shit I've ever seen," Green admitted. "didn't even seem to mean to. just... brushed against 'em." He dug a bottle of 'ketchup whiskey' from his coat and took a drink. "terrifying."

You continued to the last of your trinity. "To Baxter."

The drone whirred in response.

"We should vote later on specific laws of our world."

Baxter inquired, "How do you mean?"

"How should battles work?" you asked as an example.

Chara chuckled at this. "You mean like, should they be turn-based, revolve around cards, or something like that?"

Green noted, "yeah, most of that just... 'bleeds away' in The Void. it doesn't seem to 'like' the restrictions."

You continued and concluded, "Should we adjust/add the effects of certain color magic? Etc."

Baxter contemplated this. "I will work on compiling the concepts. It should be done near the time of completion."

The conversation ended with another flash of magic as the next arrived.

Toriel 3, as you might call her, was the next to arrive.

The moment she materialized, she gasped and stumbled briefly, landing on the chair, which magically adjusted itself to elevate her. She was noticeably shorter than the previous two Toriels, standing roughly half their height—making her shorter than Chara and about the same height as a typical Sans or Green.

Her pink-tinted eyes sparkled with curiosity as she took in her surroundings. You couldn't help but notice her distinctive appearance. She had a more ample figure compared to her counterparts—a pronounced bust, wide hips, and a rounded posterior that gave her a striking silhouette. Despite this, her outfit seemed deliberately modest, avoiding unnecessary emphasis on her shape. She wore long black shorts with dark pink stripes down the sides, paired with a bright pink overshirt that hung loosely, resembling a dress that fell just past her hips. Over this, she had draped a soft, dark purple hoodie lined with plush fur for a cozy touch. Her medium-length hair was tied back in a ponytail, and a pair of short horns adorned her head.

Most striking of all was her body's unusual nature. She appeared to be a living sketch, as if drawn in pencil and then animated. The shading on her form shifted and moved as she did, giving her a unique, artistic quality. Despite this surreal appearance, she moved and functioned seamlessly, not confined to two dimensions but as a fully realized being.

Green broke the silence with his usual charm. "well, hey, ain't you a work of art." He grinned. "haven't seen many folks with your style before. classic."

"H-huh?" Toriel looked surprised at first, then rolled her eyes. "Was that...a pickup line?" She shook her head, smirking. "If I hadn't heard it a dozen times before, I might be charmed."

"fair enough," Green replied with a chuckle. "still, you are very distinct."

"Like a 'lovely painting' or something?" she teased, smirking. "As if. Honestly, I'm about as sketchy as this place." Her eyes darted around the room. "Speaking of...is this that interview thing I heard about?"

Chara nodded, letting her hood fall back. "It is. We don't have much time, so it's best if we get straight to the questions." She paused, watching Toriel's reaction. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Toriel replied with a small laugh. "Though a tu-Toriel might be helpful?" Her pun earned a chuckle from Green. "But seriously, I'm ready."

Baxter's voice buzzed gently. "It's all straightforward."

Toriel settled herself on the raised chair. "Alright, let's do this."

Chara began, her gaze steady. "We'll start simple. What world are you from?"

Toriel hesitated, her expression faltering. "I may need to...avoid that question, if that's okay?"

Baxter countered gently, "It's important to know."

Toriel sighed, reluctantly nodding. "I suppose that's fair. The thing is...I don't know."

Green tilted his head. "you kind of look like you're from Altertale, maybe? does that sound familiar?"

"I've heard that suggestion before," Toriel admitted, "but no, I don't think that's accurate."

Chara pressed on. "What do you remember about your world?"

Toriel let out a slow breath, clearly unprepared for the question. "Only one thing, really. I wasn't...wearing much of anything." She winced slightly. "An 'outfit,' if you could call it that, which I put on for...someone who wanted to see me in it." Her cheeks darkened with embarrassment. "We were...uh, it's—actually, can we not talk about this?"

Green just waved it off, curious. "so, you were in the middle of something personal with someone. that's okay. do you remember anything else?"

"They...sounded like music," Toriel murmured, searching her memory. "And they were disappointed in me." Her hand touched her cheek. "There was something wrong. I was wrong somehow. Then I felt something...press against me. The next thing I knew, I was in an unfinished, sketchy void. I don't remember much else. Sorry."

Chara's posture shifted, her tone softer. "That sounds...awful. You said...'sketchy void.' Do you mean the Void?"

"No," Toriel replied uneasily. "That's all my world was—a crumpled, messy thing. When I was found, one of my captors called it 'scrap paper.'"

Her words hung in the air as if waiting for someone to explain their meaning. Toriel herself seemed unsure.

Green nodded knowingly. "a 'drawn' world," he said. "I've known some folks from places like that. they called themselves 'rough drafts'—from concept worlds." He added, "some big old creator thing uses them to flesh out other ideas."

Chara, meanwhile, had a more intense expression, her focus sharpening on a particular word Toriel had said.

Toriel chuckled lightly. "Guess I wasn't good enough to make it to the concept phase."

"They didn't deserve you," Chara replied firmly, her tone resolute. "Don't take the blame for their failings."

"Y-yeah, I... guess," Toriel said, her voice faltering slightly. Then, she added thoughtfully, "Still, I do wonder sometimes... What would it have looked like? The world... me?"

Chara shook her head, her tone serious. "Somehow, I doubt they had noble intentions for you—or your home."

"Probably not," Toriel admitted with a soft sigh. She then glanced between them. "Can we just... move on to the next question, please?"

Before Green could speak, Chara asked, "What's your favorite color?"

Toriel tilted her head as she thought. "I guess... pink. It's the only color I have, after all." She gestured to her eyes, which sparkled as they revealed a heart-shaped design. "It's... not super common, you know?"

Chara nodded with a small smile. "And they're yours. Hold on to that."

The encouragement made this Toriel smile slightly, a bit of warmth returning to her demeanor. "You're... a Chara, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Chara confirmed with a nod.

"I'm guessing there's some other me who's probably your guardian, huh?" Toriel asked, laughing softly.

"My mom," Chara answered, her voice softening as she reflected. "She was a big influence on me."

"Then she did a good job, I think," Toriel said gently, half-asking as though seeking affirmation.

"She definitely tried," Chara replied, a faint smile crossing her face before she gestured toward Green. "Next question?"

Green nodded and asked the interviewee, "so, Tori, reckon you got any magic in ya?"

"Hmm?" Toriel laughed nervously. "Oh, uh... well, I'm very adept at telekinesis." She paused, thinking. "I think it's the only magic my maker gave me."

Chara muttered under her breath, "Of course they did."

"But," Toriel continued, snapping her fingers to produce a vibrant pink and purple-tinted flame, "I did learn some magic on my own later. It's, uh, not 'combat magic.' It's healing magic."

Chara tilted her head curiously. "How did you—or why did you—come to learn that magic?" she asked, her tone gentle. "If you're comfortable talking about it."

"It's important, right?" Toriel asked, half to herself, before continuing. "Someone had to take care of the others when he got angry."

Baxter, hesitant but direct, asked what the others wouldn't. "Who is 'he' in this context?"

Toriel hesitated, her voice growing quieter. "My world wasn't found by The Collector. It was... found by a being like him, I guess. But he called himself 'Master.'" She frowned. "He had his own mini version of the Joined World, only... like a cheap porn flick instead." She laughed nervously, the sound hollow. "Complete with the casting couch."

"You don't have to get into this if you don't want to," Chara offered sincerely.

Toriel sighed and shook her head. "The people deciding if I get this want to know me, right?" she asked, earning a reluctant nod from Chara. "I'll make it short. It was... hell. A unique, awful hell. And it never ended. It wasn't fun—it was agony." Her voice lowered into a near growl. "He owned it, us. His 'gatherers' were the ones he sent out to find us, so long as we were alone, or not old enough or strong enough to fight back meaningfully."

Baxter asked quietly, "How did you come to be here?"

Toriel's tone shifted, a faint smile breaking through. "Some of us got clever... found the way out. In doing so, they stumbled across a 'competitor' of his—The Collector. They showed him where to go." Her smile widened slightly. "It was very satisfying to watch my 'Master' get shredded apart, screaming." She cleared her throat before adding, "After that, those who could be saved were brought here. The rest... he just put out of their misery."

Chara looked deeply disturbed. "Yeah... are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Toriel shook her head. "I'm glad I was able to get away. All the same, thank you, dear," she replied warmly, though her tone grew somber. "But honestly? All that really happened was I moved from one prison to another."

She smiled faintly, a hint of bitterness behind it. "Suddenly, I needed money, connections—I had to appease people just to survive in a place where nobody knew me, but everyone felt they recognized me," she explained, staring at her hands. "Where I was an oddity, someone people wanted to collect and keep, like 'he' did."

Her voice lowered. "The others... they had worlds, families to go back to, or they fit in well enough that nobody demanded anything in return for letting them stay. But me? I'm just... me." She gave a hollow laugh. "They forgot about me so fast... you'd think I was serving a domina with all that whiplash I was feeling."

"Where are you staying right now?" Chara asked Toriel.

"I'd rather not answer that," Toriel admitted with a defeated chuckle. "I don't have a lot of pride remaining... I'd like to hold onto what's left, if that's okay?"

"If it doesn't pan out—all of this—find me on the top floor, okay?" Chara requested. "I have somewhere you can exist." Toriel glanced away, avoiding the intensity of the offer.

"Next question," Chara continued. "What role do you wish for?"

Toriel sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly before responding. "I don't... mind which. It may send strange but..." She tapped the table, her voice faltering. "I... I wanna be a real person," she said, glancing briefly at Green before turning back to Chara. "Not a sketch, not some... doodle meant to please someone who never cared." Her gaze steadied on Chara. "If it offers me that, I'll do whatever you want me to do. Anything. I don't care anymore."

Chara studied her expression carefully and asked, "Do you understand the nature of this? What will happen to you—what it means?"

Toriel nodded hesitantly. "If I understand it right... you kill me. The people—whoever they are—take what's left and make someone new." Her voice cracked slightly as she added, "Though, before we did that, I'd probably ask for a drink, so we can both raise spirits." She noticed the discomfort on Chara's face and requested, "Please don't look at me like that."

Green shuffled through his notes, reluctant to ask certain questions, but knowing you might want to hear them. After an internal debate, he decided to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

"hey, gotta ask this—it's on the list," he started. "how many parties have you been to?"

"I've never been to anything I'd call a party," Toriel replied calmly.

One of you spoke up, your voice cutting through the tension. "How many children have you ever had in your care?"

Toriel's gaze shifted, scanning the air as if trying to locate the source of your voice, aware it wasn't entirely from Baxter. But unable to find you, locate you.

"Is that one of them?" Toriel asked. "The people in charge?"

Green nodded quickly. "yeah, but, uh, don't feel like—"

"I took care of twenty-three," Toriel answered, her voice solemn.

Green shifted uncomfortably. "listen, those are just—"

You interrupted. "How many of those children died or can be presumed dead?"

Toriel hesitated, her expression pained. "Most of them."

You pressed further. "Have you ever been married? If so, to whom?"

"No, I don't think so," Toriel replied, shaking her head. A faint, bitter smile crossed her face, as she joked. "Never been wedding-bound. Just the other type."

You pivoted. "What's your favorite cooking recipe?"

"I used to make sugar cookies for the children," Toriel recalled, a flicker of warmth entering her tone. "I think those were my favorite."

Before you could ask, Chara interjected. "Have you ever had to kill anyone?"

"Yes," Toriel said, her voice heavy. "It wasn't... I didn't murder people. It was... a kindness."

Green decided to lighten the mood. "well, this is random—how do you feel about Jerry?"

"Jerry? Is he... a threat or something?" Toriel asked, confused. When no one answered, she shrugged. "I... well, sounds like someone I'd avoid."

One of you asked what the others avoided. "If you made a mistake you couldn't fix, and everyone hated you for it, how would you try to make things right?"

"I don't know... I've never been given a second chance before," Toriel admitted. "I suppose I'd... I don't know. I'd do what I could."

Chara stepped in. "That's... fine. There's not much left anyway." She glanced at you, about to suggest moving on, but your chorus of voices pressed further.

You asked. "If you hated yourself, what would you do?"

"Don't be silly," Toriel replied with a nervous laugh. "I already hate myself. But I guess I'd... do what I'm trying to do now." Her tone grew quieter. "I'd try to be someone else, see if I could stop feeling so lost."

Chara's frustration bubbled over. "You aren't... worthless, you know?"

"That's always what people with worth say," Toriel replied with a small, tired smile.

A sudden flash of light filled the room, and Toriel vanished. Silence settled among those gathered. Chara remained half-standing for a moment before fully rising, her heart pounding and her breathing unsteady. She paced like a wolf circling a campfire.

Green leaned back, exhaling deeply. "well, that fuckin' sucked," he muttered. "hey, uh, bosses... can we take five, please?"

Chara's movements were tense, her agitation palpable. Banners lining the room stretched and frayed, and the flames within the torches began to flicker and rot rather than extinguish.

Baxter processed the events, piecing together fragments of context from the information provided. It tried to make sense of the threads, filling gaps in the story.

One of you whispered to Baxter. "Tell Chara she may be asked to leave, given how stressed out she is."

Above, the mirror cracked, lines spider-webbing across its surface as tiny shards fell unnoticed. You recognized something few had considered: the powers she'd stolen from the late King Ralsei.

Before Baxter could speak, Chara cut in fiercely. "I'll leave when I say so. I'm fine. You don't need to treat me like some fragile doll." Her chair was yanked back by an unseen force as she spoke. "I've seen people like this before. I know people who've gone through this. It's just..." Her pacing slowed, her power ebbing back to a simmer. "It's a lot right now."

Green ventured cautiously. "something tells me it uh, may not get a whole lot better going forward."

"Of course not." She grumbled, as something struck her chest, slamming her back into the chair.

"hey, you okay?" Green asked, while starting to get up. "what'd you even trip on?"

Chara's anger melted into unease as she scanned the air. Summoning phantom hands, she pushed herself forward again and muttered, "Loose shoelace."

Baxter detected traces of magic lingering in the air but couldn't pinpoint the source. Then, another flash of light signaled the arrival of the next candidate.

As the fourth candidate arrived—no, even before she arrived—you felt her presence.

It was peculiar, an alien code that felt incorrect and antithetical to the countless others you had encountered on this journey. Yet, beneath the strangeness, there was a faint undercurrent of something familiar. An undercurrent of function you understood. You recognized what she was before even laying eyes on her.

An Empty Vessel.

When this Toriel manifested, she was not seated, nor did she appear directly above or at the chair. Instead, the magic itself seemed to struggle, displacing her a short distance from it, standing. This oddity went unnoticed by everyone but you.

She carried a basket in her hands, filled with white flowers. It was a carefully woven thing, crafted from a pale wooden material. Some parts of the basket were still growing, sprouting stems with small leaves. Her crimson eyes were half-lidded, preemptively fixed on the trinity.

She wore long purple robes with cream-colored sleeves, tied with a red sash around her waist, the bow neatly knotted at the back. There was no tabard or deltarune on her robes. Instead, an upside-down white heart was emblazoned at the center.

You noticed something typically unseen: threads still linked this would-be vessel. They weren't like the threads you had made; these were woven from ribbons and archaic, alien code. Energy—your energy—flowed along these threads, seeking a source, but found none. Whoever had controlled this being had long since gone. Leaving the threads unattended. She was connected to nothing. Your own Vessel, however, seemed to perceive faint traces of these threads as well but chose to remain silent.

This Toriel's fur looked soft, her expression quaintly serene. Modest in height for her apparent youth, she seemed barely a teenager—perhaps no older. She was about the height of Sans's, if slightly smaller. She had a gardening space tucked into her sash, a practical hiding spot for tools or a weapon. Dark patterns marked parts of her feet and arms, and faint smudges of black dusted her cheeks.

Confronted with this unexpected arrival, she spoke. "I thought I was here for an interview," she said, adding with a playful smirk, "Not a beauty pageant."

Baxter, ever ready to step in for the confused trinity, responded. "Beauty pageant?"

"Because you're all lovely," Toriel replied, her smirk widening into a cheesy grin.

Chara scoffed lightly. "Wow, opening with a flirt?" She squinted. "You're... a little young for that."

"You'd be the expert," Toriel quipped back without missing a beat. "I'd ask what product you use, but I bet you don't have to."

Green chuckled. "is that your best flirt, kiddo?"

"I can always try another if it didn't work," Toriel offered playfully, clearly amusing herself.

Baxter asked a question, curious. "How old are you?"

"I don't know," Toriel admitted, adding with cheerful confidence, "But I'm very mature for my age. Ms. Tasque says so."

Chara shook her head, smiling faintly. "Oh my. Dear child, who… who taught you to flirt?"

"I hear people flirting all the time at the bar when I'm getting them their sodas," Toriel explained brightly. "I've seen some flirt so well they make friends."

"Y-yeah?" Chara laughed nervously.

"I asked one lady, and she said she made a very special friend she was flirting with," Toriel clarified earnestly.

Green tried to stifle his laughter at the innocently sincere tone in her voice. Baxter, too, seemed momentarily lost in thought, pondering the applications of such a technique, as a method of friend making.

Chara's earlier tension eased as she guessed, "So now you're... trying to make friends by flirting." Memories of people she'd met over the years surfaced briefly. "That's adorable, but, uh, maybe don't follow their example, okay?"

"Why not?" Toriel asked, tilting her head.

"Well, it's not always the best idea for... kids to—er, well, for people to flirt with random strangers," Chara suggested, adding, "After all, there are other ways to make friends, dear child. And flirting is mostly used for... well—"

Green noticed her struggling and playfully teased, "gonna finish that sentence?"

"I'm thinking," Chara muttered.

"It's to try and get laid, right?" Toriel said with a confident nod. The two stared at her in shock. "I know."

Green burst out laughing, struggling to contain himself. Chara gave him a light thump on the shoulder before refocusing on the child.

"Out of curiosity, love, do you even know what that means?" Chara asked cautiously.

Toriel hummed thoughtfully, placing her basket on the table. "I heard once that some pretty man wanted to get laid, and he was flirting a lot." She explained further as she took a seat. "When I asked, he said it was a necklace made of flowers that special friends give each other." Her tone turned matter-of-fact. "It's how you know you're really friends. He said so."

Green, through his chuckling, remarked, "a lei. ahhhhh, gotcha. yeah that's...definitely what it means."

"Mhm." Toriel nodded pleasantly. "They're very pretty."

"did you give him a bunch of flowers?" Green asked, his tone light and curious.

Toriel nodded enthusiastically, picking up a few flowers from her basket. "I did!" she said, her voice brimming with pride. "My maker said making friends was very important." She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. "It made him and his friends laugh—well, most of his friends. So I made flowers for the other ones too."

"Oh, sweet child." Chara let out a soft laugh, exhaling as if to steady herself. "That was...very sweet of you." She shifted slightly, thinking. "Uhm, so we have... 'questions,' as part of the interview." Her tone became more deliberate. "If you're willing?"

Toriel closed her eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of one of the flowers. "Of course," she said softly.

"Let's, uh...start with—" Chara hesitated, debating where to begin, before settling on a simple yet vital query. "You're an uncommon sight, dear child. What world are you from?"

"Project 001," Toriel answered with a confident nod.

Green raised a curious eyesocket. "sure, sure. that's...an odd name. I think what she meant was, ya know, like world type, that kinda thing?" He gestured vaguely, trying to clarify. "like, some people are from Underfell if they're all big, gruff, and angry-lookin'." He deepened his voice comically, earning a small smile from Toriel. "then there's Storyshift or other kinds of worlds." He shrugged. "something like that?"

Toriel's face scrunched in slight confusion. "I think it's just Project 001," she said slowly. "That's what my maker called it."

Chara furrowed her brows. "You say 'maker.' Were you...made in the Void?"

Toriel shook her head. "No. I don't think so. That's not what the flower-man said, at least."

"Huh." Chara leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "And you were aware of this creator?"

"Mhm." Toriel's crimson eyes opened more fully as she gazed at the space around them, scanning something unseen. "She was like your friends," she said, glancing briefly toward you. "A whisper. Like—" She tapped her fingers rhythmically on the table, mimicking the sound of typing keys. "That sound. She willed things to be...and they were. Like me!"

Baxter hummed thoughtfully, its mechanical tone tinged with curiosity. "You seem to be aware of them," it observed. "Are you feeling well?"

Toriels eyes had lingered on you too long, as she rubbed her temple. "My head hurts a little," she admitted quietly. A thin trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her eye. "Uhm...ow."

Chara was out of her seat in an instant, her stride quick and precise. She knelt beside Toriel, retrieving a handkerchief from her pocket to gently wipe away the trail of blood. The crimson stain left a faint trace on the child's soft fur. She was not entirely magical.

"There we go," Chara said gently, her tone warm. She glanced up at Baxter. "Baxter, could you...please heal her?"

The drone seemed momentarily surprised but complied. It focused on the threads that bound you to it, and her, tapping into the shared connection. A faint green light flowed into Toriel, soothing her discomfort. However, Baxter detected an anomaly—a feedback error. Conversion rates incorrect, its system registered. The drone attempted to adjust, its internal processes whirring as it analyzed the glitch.

"Thank you," Toriel said politely, her voice steady again.

Chara wiped away the remaining trace of blood and stepped back, her expression a mix of concern and reassurance. "Okay. Please, continue," she encouraged softly. "And be careful looking at them," she added, gesturing subtly. "They're not trying to hurt you, but...it's 'hard' to...see them."

Toriel pouted slightly but nodded. "Hmm...okay." She tilted her head thoughtfully before continuing, her voice taking on a reflective tone. "I couldn't really see my maker either. But she talked to me." She smiled faintly at the memory. "She would make people, and we talked through them sometimes."

Baxter's mechanical tone cut in. "How did you...manage this?" Its curiosity was apparent, though its systems churned in frustration as it struggled to process the data.

Toriel looked perplexed. "They...left empty people there?" she said, as though repeating something she barely understood herself. "I...well, I couldn't 'speak' like they could. She spoke for them, and for me. It was...me, but not me. It...I..."

Baxter interrupted gently. "Pardon me. May I analyze your code?"

Toriel hesitated, her expression uncertain. "Will it hurt?" she asked, her voice soft.

"No," Baxter assured her. "I promise."

Out of instinct, Toriel glanced at Chara, who gave her a reassuring nod. "Okay," she said finally. "Then...yes."

Baxter began the process, immediately encountering an overwhelming number of errors. The system bombarded it with dozens—no, hundreds—of conversion mismatches. Each was more peculiar than the last. It tried to piece together the fragments, deciphering the child's origins, the nature of her world, and why her existence seemed to defy typical logic.

The drone's frustration grew as it continued parsing the incomprehensible mess. The data resisted its efforts, as if encoded in a language that only half-existed, leaving Baxter to wonder: What kind of world was this, and who could have created such a being?

Green glanced at Baxter, noticing it glitching slightly. "hmm. right. guess that'll take a minute. maybe we oughta move on to the next question?"

Chara nodded. "That's... more than fair." She turned back to Toriel with a soft smile. "What's your favorite color, dear child?"

Toriel pondered the question, her expression thoughtful before she replied, "They're all very nice. But, I think... blue."

"May I ask why?" Chara inquired, her curiosity evident.

Toriel's gaze softened as she explained, "There was the blue room in my world, where the people were placed. They were all going to be my friends one day." Her tone shifted into a gentle recollection. "They couldn't move like I could or talk on their own. But my maker did create another one who could move around and... be like me?"

"Yeah?" Chara's smile grew, the purple hue in her eye catching the light. "I doubt they were as cool as you."

Toriel's legs kicked lightly as she giggled. "He was, though. His name was Sans, and he was going to help keep me safe. And I'd help keep him safe," she admitted with a shy grin. "He was my best friend."

Chara inquired curiously. "Keep you safe from what?"

"One person, called me a...santif...sanc..hmm, a lamb. Even though I'm a goat." Toriel responded, adding. "I think, from that?"

Green chimed in, his voice casual yet kind. "hey, bout your friend, is he still around, kiddo?"

"I don't know," Toriel replied, her tone faltering. "We got separated in 'the dark place.'" Her voice grew quieter as her eyes lowered. "Bad people tore through the flower garden from 'outside.'" She blinked, adding, "They pulled us out, and he helped me get away. I couldn't see him, though... I think... they took him?"

Green tried to reassure her. "yeah, that's... I'm sure he's fine. somewhere."

Toriel didn't look entirely convinced, but she smiled anyway. Despite her brave expression, a flicker of genuine distress lingered in her eyes.

Chara noticed the shift and crouched down in front of her. The shadows in her eye dimmed, her focus sharpening. She lightly tapped Toriel's arm to draw her attention. "I bet," she began with an encouraging tone, "you know all kinds of spells."

Toriel's floppy ears perked up slightly, and she looked at Chara. "Mhm. They're pretty cool, I think?" She glanced away, then back again. "Can I... show you?"

"Only if I can show you my spells too," Chara replied with a wink. She added with a grin, "I know some magic myself, but it never hurts to learn from a master magician."

Toriel giggled softly, then proudly declared, "Well, you're in luck. I'm a great teacher, you know." She conjured something at her side—a menu. "I... can't do it without the menu... yet—"

Chara lied smoothly, materializing her own menu. "That's okay. Neither can I."

Hearing this seemed to bolster Toriel's confidence. It also provided everyone present an opportunity to compare the two menus directly.

Chara's menu resembled the typical interface and style branching from the original Undertale, though hers had a distinct purple cracked border along the edges.

Toriel's menu was vastly different. It had a bolder, blockier aesthetic, lacking the refined icons or fonts often seen in more modern designs. It appeared archaic, generic, with noticeable differences in the available commands:

Where Chara's options read:

FIGHT - ACT - ITEM - MERCY

Toriel's read:

ATTACK - SKILL - ITEM - FLEE

This comparison caught the attention of all, particularly Baxter, which had resumed analyzing her code. The new data seemed to assist its processing, and it let out a pleased whirr as it began translating the information more effectively.

When Toriel's menu opened, her Soul became visible, much like Chara's had. However, while your vessel bore a dark, purple-tinted Soul, Toriel's was entirely different. She didn't have the white Soul expected of monsters. Instead, her Soul was inverted red, facing downward like a typical monster's Soul but pulsing with a great deal of presently dormant determination.

Green examined it closely and asked, "hey, kid, your Soul... any idea why it's red?"

Toriel tilted her head thoughtfully before responding, "My maker said it happens to monsters sometimes." Her voice took on a reflective tone as she continued, "Since humans don't fall into the Underground, only monsters like me can be used to break the barrier."

Chara asked gently, "Did she say how?"

Toriel shook her head. "I think, monsters like me, are...supposed to be those lamb things?" She sounded uncertain, as Chara seemed to deduce the meaning. "Oh, hey, watch this!"

She opened her Skill menu, revealing a list of 'Spells' and actions:

Burn. Freeze. Splash. Stone. Poison. Sleep. Spare. Flirt. Talk.

Chara arched an eyebrow. "You have a 'talking' spell?"

Toriel giggled and shook her head. "It's not a spell, silly. That's how I talk. It's a skill of mine," she explained, the Talk command lighting up with every word she spoke. "I figured out how to use it without the menu. I have it cuz my maker wanted me to be able to talk to people and stop them from fighting. 'Nobody has to die,' she said."

Chara observed the glowing Talk command for a moment before asking, "I see. So... how do the spells, or uh... 'skills,' work?"

Toriel perked up and demonstrated. "I just 'tap' the one I want to use. See?" She tapped Burn, and a strange bar beneath her health points lowered slightly. Fire flickered into her palm, forming a modest flame.

Chara studied the fire, then tapped her own ACT menu, selecting Spells to conjure her own flame. Her fire was noticeably larger and more erratic in appearance.

Curiosity sparked in Chara, prompting her to lick her finger and dip it into each flame. The results were surprising. Toriel's fire had a much higher 'numerical value,' measuring at 100, but its 'actual damage' was significantly lower, registering only 25. In contrast, Chara's flame had a lower 'numerical value,' at 50, but its 'actual damage' matched its value, at 50.

Toriel gasped and quickly dismissed her spell. "A-Are you okay?" she asked, panic edging her voice. "I-I'm sorry!"

Chara raised a reassuring hand. "I'm alright, dear child," she said softly. "I heal realllly fast. See?" She showed her hand as the burn began to heal rapidly.

Toriel gasped again, this time in awe. "Crazy, huh?" Chara added with a small smile, earning a nod from the girl. "Thanks for showing me your magic."

"You're welcome," Toriel replied shyly.

"Okay," Chara said, straightening. "Next question. Ready?"

"Mhm," Toriel answered with a small nod.

"Do you understand what these interviews are for?" Chara asked, motioning as Toriel instinctively reached for her hand. "What it's about, and for?"

Toriel's eyes grew briefly starry. "To have a new home," she suggested. "The flower man said I might have friends or a family if I'm picked." Her voice held hesitant excitement. "That others, like my maker, were putting it all together to be someplace nice. That they wouldn't leave it, like mine did."

Chara's expression softened. "You do know that who you are will... fade, and you'll be made anew, right?" she asked carefully. "You won't... 'be you' anymore?"

Toriel seemed to ponder this deeply before replying, "But that's better, isn't it?" She looked up at Chara with a faint smile. "Nobody else seems to like me much, and... well, the bar people haven't come back since Ms. Tasque went to her meeting."

"What makes you think nobody likes you?" Chara asked, her concern evident.

"The other kids say I'm... 'wrong,'" Toriel recalled, her ears drooping slightly. "I try not to use my magic or anything. I scared some people once." She hesitated, then admitted, "A man said if I wasn't a freak, my maker wouldn't have 'deleted me.'"

She glanced between the two adults' expressions, searching for understanding. "I... asked others. They said it's the reason I fell into the dark."

Chara placed her hand over Toriel's, resting it gently. "That's not on you, love," she said firmly. "It's not your fault in the slightest."

"Isn't it?" Toriel murmured, her gaze shifting to Baxter. "I don't know..."

Chara shifted to the next question. "Why do you want to take this risk, to join this new world?" she asked, adding, "There is danger in it."

"Well, yeah, but there's danger here too," Toriel replied knowingly. She hesitated before continuing, "A lot of the friends I make... 'go away.' There were nice people who offered me a home, but they lost theirs to the flower man. He... 'ate it,'" she whispered. "I... I got invited to four homes, but he ate each one." Her voice grew softer as she explained, "A lot of people started to say I was cursed."

Green interjected sharply, "and those people are idiots, kid." Then, softening, he asked, "you mentioned a lady you were stayin' with, right?"

Toriel nodded. "Yeah, Ms. Tasque is nice." She paused before admitting, "Sometimes, though, I... want a bed. I don't like the dark, and the floor isn't... nice to sleep on."

One of you whispered a question: "Have you ever killed anyone?"

Toriel gave a small nod. "Yes," she said quietly.

Chara pressed gently, "What happened?"

"My maker wanted to... 'test' something," Toriel recounted, her voice faltering, a fear there. "She had me fight a bunch of people. But I... I couldn't get them to stop fighting. And... then they became dust." Her expression wavered before she forced a hesitant smile. "B-but I did eventually."

Meanwhile, Baxter had been analyzing her data. He discovered that Toriel's origin code stemmed from a different software system than those typically used to create coded worlds. It seemed to be from something called Maker 2003. Although his processes weren't fully complete, he flagged this as a significant finding worth reporting.

Another whispered question came: "Have you ever been forgotten?"

"A lot," Toriel admitted with a nervous laugh, squeezing Chara's hand tighter. "The last time I talked to my maker, she was so happy. She said she got 'a new version' and wanted to try it. She said she'd... 'port things'?" Toriel frowned, clearly unfamiliar with the term. "I was really happy for her, and I... waited. And waited. It took so long I started to move on my own." Her voice grew wistful. "I even got Sans to move too. We learned how to talk and play. There wasn't a lot, but... it was okay." Her tone fell. "Because she was going to come back."

Chara reminded her gently, "None of that was your fault."

Toriel looked doubtful. "When the things took Sans, it wasn't long before the flower man came. He... took my world. Said it was useless." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Then he brought me here and forgot about me. He didn't even remember me when he found me selling flowers." She paused. "Ms. Tasque forgot about me too, I think..."

Chara interrupted softly, "Okay. Perhaps we should step away from these questions for just a moment."

But you did not relent.

"If you hated yourself," one of you began, "what would you do?"

"I never know what to do with it," Toriel admitted quietly.

You pressed on. "Why should we pick you over your competition?"

"I don't know," Toriel replied after a thoughtful pause. "I think... maybe I can do a lot of neat things?" Her gaze locked on you, searching for approval. "And that's really nice, isn't it?"

Blood began to seep from her eye.

Another question followed. "If you made a mistake—one you couldn't fix—and everyone hated you for it, how would you try to make things right?"

"I would try really hard to. Did I make a mistake?" Toriel asked, her breathing quickening as she winced in pain. Her vision faltered, as her focus was pulled away from you. "I'm sorry if I did... Is that why Ms. Tasque hasn't come back?" She seemed distressed. "The flower man said she was in trouble but that she'd be back soon."

Chara knew what that 'meant' and wasn't sure how to address it, yet.

Chara gently wiped away the blood from her face. "You did very well," she reassured Toriel in a soothing whisper. "Take a deep breath... in... and out." Toriel obliged, her breathing slowing. Chara smiled softly. "One more time. There you go. You're okay."

Green cut in with a grin. "you did great, kid. batting one hundred."

At last, Baxter spoke, its processes having finally completed. "This unit is compelled to ask," it said, drawing Toriel's gaze. "You can 'see them.' Are you aware of your nature—what you are?"

Toriel looked puzzled, considering the question. "Uhm... my maker called me a monster?" Then, with a guess, "But... that's not what you mean. She called me 'a vessel' once. Is that good?"

Chara assured her gently, "Some of the best people I knew—and know—were." She then shifted her tone slightly. "How long has it been since Ms. Tasque talked with the flower man?"

"A few days ago," Toriel answered.

Green muttered a quiet, "gotcha."

Chara shook her head slightly. "Listen, love, before you go... Do you know which floor you're on?"

"I don't know." Toriel admitted to her, asking. "Is it... important?"

"Yes... When you get back, I need you to-" Chara began, only to be cut off by a sudden flash of light. "Ah... yeah. That... tracks," she muttered as her hand lowered.

The flash whisked Toriel away, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. Whatever light had been restored dimmed quickly as Chara straightened, her expression darkening with an oncoming flood of loathing.

Green called out, "sort of in the middle of something, c'mon!"

There was a rush of flowing leaves, swirling and spiraling. The foliage twisted in a deliberate dance before taking shape on the throne. The Collector had manifested. He stretched out, rolling his shoulders with casual ease, and leaned back comfortably in his seat.

"Apologies," The Collector spoke aloud, his tone smooth but dismissive. "There's still a lot to do, and you've already gotten most of your questions answered." He gestured nonchalantly. "Maintaining this and performing my other duties to keep the Joined World safe is… taxing. So, I'm afraid you're not getting 'all the time you want.' Fair?"

Chara's expression hardened. "Did you do that just to mess with me?"

The Collector raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "My world doesn't revolve around you," he replied, though there was a trace of amusement in his voice. "That said, perhaps you should work on being appreciative of those who help you. Just a thought."

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she turned and began to walk back to her seat. Her steps echoed in the otherwise quiet room, each one carrying a weight of unspoken tension. A long sigh escaped the creator of this place.

The Collector continued, breaking the silence. "Well, if we have nothing further to say, why don't we take a brief pause? Get something to eat or drink. Let our friends perform their vote."

Green tilted his head. "was that… really all of 'em?"

"Of course not," The Collector replied with a hint of amusement. "But, I hand-picked some of the most unique beings I had."

Chara cut in sharply, "That you didn't care about."

The Collector's smirk widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I care about 'all' my things. Besides, why waste time on those you've already seen before when you can get a once-in-a-lifetime chance at something distinct?"

Green glanced at Chara, noticing her poorly hidden scowl. So he asked. "you got any plans for the folks who 'lose' this, uh… thing?"

"Of course I do," The Collector answered, his tone dripping with ominous intent. "But what sense is there in worrying about that?"

Baxter's mechanical voice interjected. "This unit will compile the vote."

"Please do," The Collector said, inclining his head slightly. "And take 'five.' When passions run this deep, it's nice to take a break sometimes." He gave a pointed look. "Don't you agree?"

Chara folded her arms, her tone dry. "Don't reckon 'we' all get a vote?"

Baxter's gears whirred in contemplation. "This unit is… not entirely certain. Gaster 'did.'" It paused before adding, "It will ask them!"

"Please do," Chara requested, her voice laced with a faint edge of irritation.

The Collector's expression turned thoughtful as he addressed her. "You do realize you must 'declare' who you wish to win. Oh, an idea. Here." He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Chara's mouth, as well as Green's, was covered.

"Both of you," he said with a mischievous grin, "say who you want to win, and I'll let you speak. This way, we can make sure it's honest and not influenced by the other."

Chara's eye twitched as she seethed in silence, her glare promising retribution. The Collector's smile widened as he slowly counted down with his fingers. Three. Two. One. He snapped them again.

Green was the first to speak. "the sketch," he said plainly.

Chara followed, her voice even. "The Vessel."

The Collector's smirk didn't waver. "Personally, I think the wise choice is the Horror. Though, I'm biased." He motioned lazily, and the door to the room creaked open. "Well, go on. Enjoy your break while they determine some fates. And then we'll move on to the next group."

Green muttered under his breath, "thank fuck." He gestured toward the exit. "coming?"

Chara responded quietly, "Yeah." She let out a sharp whistle, catching Baxter's attention. "Come on, Bob. I'm gonna see if I can find Weed Killer."

Baxter hesitated for a moment, then let out a nervous mechanical laugh, assuming it was a joke. He followed after the pair as they rose and made their way out of the room. It transmitted the voting information to you, allowing you to make your choices. As it contemplated, a peculiar thought struck the unit. Would you let the others have a vote? Did it get a vote?

The machine pondered the purpose of these votes. Were they meant for 'all of you,' or merely for the candidates? It considered its options carefully.

The first Toriel was undoubtedly the most calm and collected among them. Her demeanor suggested a version of Toriel who could exude wisdom and composure in the face of any challenge. While her memories wouldn't fully translate into the new world, her innate senses and magical abilities would carry over seamlessly, providing a unique take on her potential as a guiding presence.

The second Toriel stood out as perhaps the most powerful. Her soul bore the scars of a lifetime filled with hatred and loss, but in a new place, much of that turmoil could find itself buried, dormant beneath the surface. What would remain was her relentless drive and her willingness to go to any extreme to protect those she cared for. That determination, coupled with her formidable capabilities, made her an undeniable force.

The third Toriel was a figure of incompleteness—a being grasping for meaning and purpose. There was a raw, unpolished quality to her, as though she were a fragment meant to be built upon or merged with something greater. Yet, within her was a profound sense of empathy and compassion. Her potential, though perhaps untapped, was immense, and her kindness could serve as a cornerstone for her role in this new world.

Then there was the fourth. Having fully deciphered her code, Baxter had reached a startling conclusion: this lost Vessel could be guided, or even "leashed," to align with your will. She possessed a staggering array of abilities, albeit peculiar, making her a versatile and potent asset. Beyond her skillset, she could also serve as a failsafe, an emergency tool to combat potential threats or intrusions into your world. While morally complex, the notion of using her as a weapon in dire circumstances held undeniable appeal.

Baxter decided it didn't want to vote on this, however. It could not decide. And apologized, for that.