Before beginning this chapter, I recommend rereading chapter 3 as it has been modified to better match the story I want to tell.

It is harder to tell the passage of time in a place without a sky above, but he's adjusted to using the watch Madame Toriel gave him on his second day underground to tell time instead of the sky. The only time he's truly sure of what time of day it is up above is when he's at the small patch of earth where he landed on that first day, either illuminated by faint beams of light in the day or wholly obscured in the dark of night. As he waters that fateful bed of gentle golden flowers seemingly alone on the morning of his seventh day underground, he thinks this little patch of sunlight is all the sky he'll ever need if it affords him all the peace he's known all week.

But there's been something gnawing at his peace. There's a door in the basement of Madame Toriel's house, and she has told him there nothing for him behind it. As nice as she is, he didn't come to the underground to be treated like a child. He never was a child, and he could never pretend to be one even if he wanted to. Madame Toriel may be the best mother he never had, but something tells him she doesn't want him going down to the basement for a reason. Not a selfless one, either. Some nights, he has contemplated

No. He doesn't want to be duplicitous or faithless, especially to someone kind enough to take him in. She's been nothing but good to him, how can he be anything but grateful to her?

The nameless is weeding the bed when one of the golden blooms pops up from the ground and first he is taken aback, nearly grasping at his sheathed knife to defend himself. But then he feels rather ridiculous seeing the cheery smile on that childish face.

"Howdy," the little flower pipes up, "I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!"

"Greetings Flowey," the nameless replies. "Indeed, I've only been down here a week. Are there any other talking flowers around here?" How odd, he thinks, that he registered a flower as enough of a threat that he should reach for his blade.

Before he can suppress it, Flowey giggles. This game was getting beyond boring, and it's been so long since he's had a new character to study totally blind. Saving face, Flowey answers, "Nope! Just lil old me."

"Interesting," the nameless mutters as he resumes weeding the area around Flowey, briefly considering the conversations he held with Madame Toriel near this plot of earth on other days when they went together. Before broaching the subject with one that might provide an outsider perspective on the matter, he decides to ask a few questions to see how much he might know. "... How long have you been here? When did you come into being?"

"I've been here all along. Maybe not always this spot, but I've been in the underground far longer than you." Hm. Quite on guard this one is, and he quickly sees that he should be as well. Flowey tilts his head in faux innocence as he remarks, "You ask a lot of questions, don'tcha?"

"It is in my nature to be curious," the nameless answers back with a subtle subconscious motoring of the flower's tilt of the head. "Is it not in yours as well? If this conversation ever feels like an interrogation, you are free to ask me to stop."

"No no, of course I'm curious too! Isn't everyone?" Trying to go in circles instead of just saying what he wants? Two can play at this game. Flowey is just eager to figure out what this mysterious stranger's real game is. "Aren'tcha getting a little personal, though? I mean, asking when I've 'come into being' is a strange question."

"I think most people prefer to have some privacy." Nearing the end of his work, he remains on his knees and pauses to reassess his situation. It's not going behind her back to ask a mutual acquaintance about what she's like, right? Perhaps it's unfair to ask personal questions without being open to being asked similarly personal ones, the nameless thinks. "...However, I do want to know the kind of people I'm putting my trust in. Do you know Madame Toriel?"

"I sure do, and let me tell you she's not what she seems."

"...How so?"

"Have you seen the way monsters look at her when she goes around the Ruins?"

This time the nameless can't think of anything to say quick enough to cover up his surprise. "I thought those looks were because of me."

"You really don't know anything about her, do you?"

"I know some things which I will not share freely out of respect for her," the nameless retorts as he folds his arms over his chest. Day three, bringing up the subject of why the room was dusty evidently brought back painful memories for her. She did not say it was mourning, but he could see it in her sorrowful eyes. It seemed to relieve her for him to reassure her that she did not have to speak on it again, and that was when he knew for sure what it was. "She has suffered a lot, yet was still kind enough to take me in as her own."

He's a lot like me, Flowey thinks as he notices how the nameless wavered as he spoke of her kindness. He remembers that feeling when he first stayed with Toriel in this form, unable to feel her love no matter how she poured it out. What a sad sight. Good thing he doesn't care though, because it would be a shame if he got all sentimental. He says nothing, simply waiting to see what sorts of doubts may fill the silence.

Breathing deeply, the nameless looks up as if wondering whether to confide his deeper concerns. After all, he registered Flowey as a threat when he first showed up. Then again, who else can he confide in? Looking back down at the flower bed, he leans down and asks, "... Do you know of the door in her basement?"

And there's his opportunity. With a hum playing at contemplation, Flowey replies, "I can do ya one better: I can tell you what's behind it if you really wanna know."

Irrepressible intrigue flashes in the nameless's eyes, and he can't help lean down to better hear this.

"It's the rest of the underground."

As he rises to his feet this time, the nameless's heart sinks. There's more to this place, and she was trying to keep him out of it? Why would Madame Toriel, who so far has been otherwise trustworthy, do such a thing? At first he doesn't want to believe it, but it all makes sense when he considers that this place is called the Ruins. There must be more if this is merely the old ruins of the place. There must be more.

He looks down at the flower bed, seeing the little golden flower there seeming to give him a look of sympathy. At first he internally recoils at it but he supposes he was put so off balance by this discovery that he must have been a pitiable sight right about now. Breathing deeply again, he regathers his thoughts and picks up the watering can from off the ground. Good or bad ones, Madame Toriel must have had her reasons for keeping this from him.

"Thank you. I think I needed to know that."

"It's no problem! I can't believe she didn't tell you herself." If this stranger is anything like him, he wouldn't have to prod any further at his doubts to get him to go out and see what else is out there.

As the nameless continues to reel from his discovery, he asks, "You said you aren't always in this spot. Does that mean you can move?"

"Yep!"

"... Will you be able to meet me out there?"

"You'll have to see for yourself."

Flowey retreats into the soil, and something nags at the back of the drifter's mind at the sight of it. Sterling his resolve, the drifter turns heel and starts the journey back to Madame Toriel. If the little flower is reliable, she'll have a lot to answer for.

Track list for the making of this chapter

Your Best Friend - Toby Fox (Undertale OST)

Premonition - Toby Fox (Undertale OST)

The Stranger - Brandon Boone (Slay the Princess OST)

The Witch - Brandon Boone (Slay The Princess OST)

It's In Our Nature - Brandon Boone (Slay the Princess OST)