Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's so cold. But it was better than the usual burning heat, and if they hadn't by now been somewhat used to burning up from the inside, perhaps this would just seem pleasantly cool rather than alarmingly chilling and empty. The fact that She was strangely absent would have been a cause for worry as well, if they hadn't known they had already lost, that this couldn't be anything but another dream.

It seemed different from all their other dreams, though. Never had they been cold, and never had it been this dark for so long. Had they died when she broke free, were they back in the Abyss? The hollow knight considered this possibility for a moment, before deciding, no, it couldn't be. The pitch-black was somehow richer, here, more vibrant. Stones twinkled like stars in the walls, and the vessel could hear running water.

They walked, weaponless (of course, weaponless, helpless, but that was better than the dreams where she made them return to the palace to kill their father, the king), toward the source of the noise. It wasn't at all difficult to find, the falling water lighting up the surrounding area with a soft blue glow.

The vessel stepped into the rushing water, startled at first because it was colder even than the rest of the environment, but they did not move. Pouring down onto their mask, rushing over their shoulders, the water washed away years of dust and void stains and surface-level infection gunk. It stung as it poured into the crack in their mask, as it washed out the space where their arm used to be, and the weight of their now-soaked wings pulled them down. Although they remained standing for as long as they could, sooner or later their legs gave out and they fell to their knees.

...

"Yo!"

Something small, yellow and stripy, like a... hiveworker. A bee, that's right. What were they doing here?

"I've never seen you before! What kinda monster are you? You look sorta like a skeleton, but you don't have a mouth. Or nose. And you have horns."

Had they all forgotten about the Pure Vessel? They would have expected hatred for failing their duty, but to not even be recognized by their statue, to be reduced to just a "monster"... it stung, but in a way it was a relief too. If they did not recognize the vessel, the vessel could not disappoint them.

"Oh, you're a hybrid, aren't you? Yeah, I bet you're a hybrid! One of your parents was a skeleton and the other was a deer or something! Huh? Am I right? Honestly, hybrids are so cool."

The vessel didn't know what the probably-bee meant by 'skeleton' or 'deer,' but they figured they were a hybrid of sorts, twice over: wyrm and root, Soul and void.

"What're you doing in the waterfall?" the stripy creature asked. "Haha, 'water' you doing. I'll have to tell Snowy that one. Anyway. Is there a secret cave behind that one too? Are you guarding it?" And then before the vessel could do anything about it, the creature rushed past them, brushing against their wings as they ran into the waterfall.

The vessel froze at the proximity of the other creature, but they didn't attack, nor did the vessel feel compelled to attack them. Up close, the stranger didn't look like a bee at all: yellow-scaled, with a snout and sharp teeth, and apparently no arms underneath their striped, knitted cloak. What were they? And did it matter if none of this was real anyway?

...But all of their dreams before this fell into a pattern. Burning light and anger. Darkness and fear, a memory of the abyss. Feathers and suffocating warmth, a mockery of comfort. None had ever given them a break, a moment to really rest. And this, strange as it was, did just that.

It was almost enough to make them think it was real, though it made no sense.

"Yo, uh, dude? Are you okay?"

Wait, oh no, they're crying, they're crying and the strange bug has noticed--

"Do you need a hug? I used to think cool monsters were too cool for hugs, but then I saw Undyne, who's literally the coolest, hug that weird skeleton guy. And then she suplexed him right after! And-- right. I totally don't have any arms. You have one, though!"

Yes, they did have an arm. But what is a hug? They tilted their head slightly in confusion.

"Uh, yeah you totally do! It's right there!" the strange bug seemed to have misunderstood what they were confused about. "But! It's ok if you don't want a hug. I just want you to feel better!"

Feel... better? They wanted the vessel to feel. To feel better. What did that even mean? Better at feeling? But that ran counter to their purpose. A purpose they already had failed, though, so it wasn't like they could make it worse.

"Oh! Uh. You want some ice cream? There's a guy who comes through here sometimes and he always picks the worst places to sell stuff. So he always ends up selling it for super cheap! You wanna come find him?"

It seemed like that was what they were supposed to do, so they stood up and began following the creature.

The stripy creature almost never stopped talking, but oddly enough, it was sort of comforting. Unlike the Radiance, provider of most of the knight's one-sided conversations, this creature was... respectful? ...No, 'respectful' conjured up images of royal retainers bowing, of citizens looking on at the unveiling of the statue, a sort of reverence that was completely nonexistent in the cheerful bug, save for when they talked about Undyne. But they were... not antagonistic. No, that was an understatement. They were... friendly? Could someone be friends with a vessel?

They knew they didn't deserve such friendship, after allowing the oldlight to destroy their kingdom. But if given the choice between staying here and going back, they would easily choose staying here.

A fluffy blue bug with two wide, floppy antennae stood by a brightly colored cart in a secluded cave. The expression on his unusual face cheered up significantly at the approach of the vessel and their maybe-friend.

"OH!!!! A CUSTOMER!!!" Oh no, he was even louder than the other bug (whom the vessel still doesn't know the name of).

"Hello! Would you like some nice cream?" Okay, that's a more manageable volume. Wait- 'nice cream'? Didn't their friend say 'ice cream'?

"It's the frozen treat that warms your heart!" the blue bug explained. "Now only 15G!"

The vessel sure hoped their friend had some Geo on them, because they certainly didn't have any. Fortunately, the smaller creature grabbed a bag from around their neck with their mouth. "Here's some," they said, speaking from the corner of their mouth. The fluffy blue bug counted out thirty shining yellow coins unlike any Geo the vessel had ever seen, and handed over two bars of 'Nice Cream', kindly removing the paper wrapper for the smaller bug since they didn't have hands. Fortunate, since otherwise, the vessel wouldn't have known the paper was meant to be removed.

Carefully, the vessel peeled back the wrapper from the freezing cold rectangle, awkwardly sticking it into their empty eye, the closest thing to a mouth that they had. Nobody noticed or seemed to care about the strange way they ate.

And it was... ok. Safe. There was no pressure.

Is this 'feel better'?

Chapter Text

Ghost didn't know how they got where they were, but it was a new area, and that alone made it worth exploring. The ground was covered in something cold and white, which through reading various signs they quickly deduced was called snow, and the area had a welcoming feel to it, similar to Dirtmouth, though less abandoned.

But despite this feeling, it wasn't long before they were attacked by a glittering dragonlike creature. Could it be another relative of some sort? Certainly one far better off than themselves, having a voice, wings and armor not dulled by the void, cracking awful jokes about the weather and looking around for approval.

...Maybe he wasn't entirely spoiled. Maybe he was lonely.

Well, regardless. He was throwing Soul attacks at them, which meant they needed to kill him. Whoever this little wyrm-adjacent thing was, Ghost was stronger. And this unimpressive shiny bug couldn't even dodge! Whereas Ghost had been forced to become a master at dodging. In fact, if they felt like it, they could no doubt cheese their way through this battle, shooting spells from a distance. But they have always preferred getting in close and using their nail.

Suddenly, Ghost was launched away from their target as bones erupted from the ground.

"STRANGE MONSTER!! THAT IS NO WAY TO RESPOND TO SUCH A GREETING!!" Something very tall was approaching. "I KNOW THAT ATTACKS LOOK DIFFERENT FOR EVERYONE, BUT HITTING SOMEBODY WITH AN ACTUAL SWORD IS NEVER THE RIGHT WAY TO SAY HELLO!"

"UNLESS IT'S UNDYNE YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT," the stranger amended. "BUT SHE USUALLY GIVES SOME SORT OF WARNING, FIRST!"

At first, Ghost had been on alert, prepared for another battle. But their tiny silver possibly-relative had run away, and the tall creature had stopped to do dialogue. The tall creature's loud friendliness honestly reminded them of Ogrim, someone they had no interest in killing, so they decided to hear him out. 

{LISTEN} What did he mean, 'greeting'? Was launching a barrage of Soul attacks a greeting here? Would all conversations be so dangerous?

"RIGHT! I SHOULD INTRODUCE MYSELF!!! I AM PAPYRUS, PROSPECTIVE MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!!"

Royal guard. So he was a Knight.

"I HAD BEEN HOPING TO FIND A HUMAN, BUT A NEW FACE IN TOWN IS A WELCOME SIGHT AS WELL! WOULD YOU... PERHAPS.. LIKE TO BE MY... FRIEND??"

Ghost nodded, and Papyrus reacted with much more exuberance than Ghost would have thought their friendship warranted.

"WELL IN THAT CASE... I MUST TAKE YOU ON A TOUR OF SNOWDIN TOWN!!!"

The town was small, and so the tour was short. But Ghost enjoyed it- they'd never been on a tour before, always finding things on their own, and it was interesting to be given information directly for a change. There was a shop which sold food, something Ghost had never tried before, and a 'library' (librarby?) which apparently contained much lore all stored together in books. There was also a 'bar' called Grillby's, which Papyrus said was a disgusting place, so Ghost made a mental note to investigate later.

Past these were the houses. Ghost had been eager to snoop, but unfortunately the doors were locked, except for Papyrus's own house, larger and differently proportioned than the others. Papyrus really must be important, they thought, to have a house like this.

Watching from a conveniently placed shrub, three humans (or more accurately, a human, a ghost, and a humanlike extradimensional entity) argued.

"What the HECK did you do?" Frisk shouted. "They almost killed Snowdrake! And now we're just letting them go into Sans and Papyrus's house?"

Chara, though invisible as always, gave a (*...) that managed to communicate a glare.

The red heart glowed in Frisk's chest, and a spectral, red, vaguely human shape appeared hovering in the air. "I already told you, I'm not the bad guy. though, uh. Sans might not be the most happy with us right now."

"I don't even know what you did! Summoning things out of nowhere!? That try to kill people!?" Frisk seemed more worried than truly angry. "You said you were done killing people!!"

"I am," the heart specter answered. "And believe it or not, as always, I am trying to help."

*(You made them kill), Chara whispered.

"And then I learned. I listened to you," the heart answered, annoyed. "We're going full pacifist this time, I didn't lie about that. But while I was away just letting you hang out here, I uh... may have found another world that I really really like. And I may have felt pretty bad for some of their guys, and I may have figured out how to sneak past Gaster and bring them here."

*(Smells like kidnapping.)

"Well you didn't hold it against Toriel, did you? So don't hold it against me." If a heart-shaped ball of pure energy and determination can sigh, this one did. "Beautiful, beautiful world. But an absolute wreck. Even sadder than this one. And if anyone can be helpful and supportive for them, it's the monsters. And you, Frisk."

*(That's actually surprisingly thoughtful,) Chara noted.

"So... who's that very aggressive child?"

"That's Ghost, my vessel from the other world. they... kinda don't know how to communicate except for fighting and staring at things, which I swear isn't my fault, I found them like that. But they're chill enough in places where nobody's trying to attack."

Frisk nodded. "So, you're letting Papyrus teach them how to have friends."

"Yeah."

*(Although Sans might not be pleased with your breaking of multiversal laws or whatever, this seems oddly selfless and well-planned. I'm proud of you, Partner.)

"Yeah... 'well-planned'... would this maybe possibly be a bad time to mention I have no idea where the others ended up?"

*(You seem to be a smelly garbage can.)

Papyrus's house was unlike anything Ghost had ever seen. Bright mismatched colors, staircases, a kitchen with a refrigerator, a whole room dedicated to a bed. Another room dedicated to a bed, but with rainbow light coming from it, that definitely seemed like there was an upgrade hidden behind it. Unfortunately, it was locked.

Ghost pulled out their nail to test if the door was breakable.

"NO! DON'T BREAK THAT!" Papyrus shouted. "I ALSO GET IMPATIENT WITH HOW MUCH SANS SLEEPS IN, BUT THERE IS NO NEED FOR DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY! AFTER ALL, I WOULD BE THE ONE WHO HAS TO REBUILD IT!!!"

Ghost respected their friend's wishes and stepped away from the door.

"SO! SHOULD WE 'HANG OUT'?" Papyrus asked. "I AM A HANGING-OUT EXPERT!!"

Ghost nodded, having never heard of the activity 'hanging out' but always ready to learn something new.

Papyrus pulled a small book from a pocket and flipped through it until he found what he was looking for. "AH YES! HERE WE ARE!! SNACKS!!!" He rushed to the refrigerator, and returned with several plates of... something, piled precariously. "MY HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI!!! WHAT DO YOU THINK!?"

Snacks... that was like food, right? They were supposed to consume it. Ghost picked up the noodles in their nubby hands and poured them carefully into their eye holes.

"UGH! NOT YOU TOO!!" Papyrus suddenly exclaimed. "SANS EATS WITH HIS EYES SOMETIMES JUST TO ANNOY ME. HE HAS A MOUTH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, HE SHOULD USE IT!! AND NOW MY BEST FRIEND TOO!!!"

When had they gone from being his friend to being his best friend? But, clearly the way they ate upset him, so they stopped, shoving the rest of the pasta into their void inventory instead.

"...DID YOU LIKE IT?"

Ghost had no sense of smell or taste. Mostly, they consumed things of power to gain movement abilities, always getting closer to their goals of being able to fly and to uncover any secret. But eating food had been fun. They nod.

"HOLY GUACAMOLE!!! SANS! SANS, GUESS WHAT!? SOMEBODY ACTUALLY LIKED MY SPAGHETTI!!!" Papyrus cleared his throat and continued speaking to Ghost. "THAT IS TO SAY, OF COURSE YOU LIKED IT! I HAVE BEEN PRACTICING FOR AGES! IT WAS INEVITABLE THAT WOULD BECOME SUCH A SPAGHETTI MASTER!"

So, he wasn't angry at them? That was a relief. Maybe Ghost could give him a gift. They didn't have any flowers, but maybe he would like a Hallownest Seal?

"WHAT IS THIS? A GIFT, FOR ME??" Papyrus accepted the gift and looked it over. "I AM NOT SURE WHAT THIS IS, BUT THANK YOU!! I WILL TREASURE THIS!!!"

Chapter Text

"LET'S GIVE A BIG HAND FOR OUR SPECIAL GUEST STAR!" Mettaton spun around on his one wheel and held out a microphone to the monster who called herself the Radiance. When she had burst into his studio, he had known immediately that they would be rivals. After all, her level of sparkle and pizazz was almost greater than his, and her ego matched his too. He couldn't let her steal his spotlight, but it might be fun to compete for it! It had been a while since the showbiz had been really interesting, after all, and he needed something to spice things up.

"HOW GENEROUS," she boomed in a voice that louder than his, and without a microphone too. "THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME MY RIGHTFUL PLACE AS THE CENTER OF ATTENTION. IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I HAVE HAD ANYTHING LIKE THIS."

Mettaton interrupted. "BUT, IT WOULDN'T BE A SPECIAL GUEST EPISODE WITHOUT A ✨TWIST✨! ACTION! DRAMA! HIGH STAKES! 🗡️BLOODSHED🗡️! THE GAME CONSISTS OF THREE SEGMENTS: FIRST, SOLVING ONE OF THE AMAZING SCIENTIST ALPHYS'S MOST DIFFICULT PUZZLES! THEN, A TELL-ALL WITH A TWIST! AND FINALLY, A DANCE BATTLE SPECTACULAR! AND YOU, MY DARLING AUDIENCE, WILL DETERMINE WHO IS THE WINNER!!"

"Sounds biased," The Radiance grumbled more quietly, glaring at Mettaton. "But don't think it's anything I can't handle."

Mettaton grinned at her. "As Alphys would say, 'let's test that theory'. ARE YOU READY, VIEWERS? FOR THE SHOW OF YOUR LIVES!"

Streamers flew through the air and lights flashed. She had to admit, it was impressive work for a mere construct. But that didn't mean she was going to lose to him. In fact, she could beat this puzzle her own way.

There was a long path of multicolored tiles ahead of her, each with a different effect which she couldn't remember, and there was a fire behind her. Unsure if fire immunity was one of the powers she still had, the only way was forward. But she couldn't risk stepping on a wrong tile, and there was no time to think. So instead she flew, a majestic streak of white and gold always just keeping ahead of the fire and never touching the ground.

"WHAT'S THIS?" Mettaton shouted when she crossed the finish line. "THE RADIANCE HAS CHEATED! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS..."

Before he could pull some other stunt, she snatched the microphone from his hands. "IT MEANS THIS SO-CALLED PUZZLE IS IMPOSSIBLE TO DEFEAT LEGITIMATELY! YOUR SHINING RECTANGULAR STAR HERE IS THE ONE WHO WAS CHEATING."

Mettaton feigned shock at the accusation. "WHO? ME? I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR THE SHOW, BUT THAT IS GOING TOO FAR!"

"THEN LET'S SEE WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS!" The Radiance pressed the button to randomize the field again. She then turned off the jets of fire and took their place herself. "A FAIR PLAYING FIELD HAS BEEN SET. MY SWORDS WILL CHASE YOU AT THE SAME SPEED AS YOUR FIRE!"

Maybe she actually went a little faster than she claimed. But that didn't matter in the end, because although one of her smaller daggers did succeed in hitting the construct, it just bounced back off with no effect. No armor should be able to stop her like that!

She hoped his idea of dance battle involved actual battling, because she had some anger she needed to take out on him. She would find the limit of his armor.

Mettaton was a little bit salty. She had dinged his rectangular robot shell on purpose! And it wasn't even time for the battle yet! He hadn't actually been hurt, of course, he wasn't actually a robot, but it's the principle of the thing. And besides, it had left an unpleasant-looking dent that ruined his aesthetic. And yet, overall, he was enjoying himself. The drama was off-the-charts! It was a wonderful show!

Now it was time for the "talk show with a twist". An excuse to get all the most interesting gossip on the Underground's strangest residents, and despite being less action-filled, his favorite segment. (Perhaps it was because, deep inside, he was maybe a little lonely and wanted someone to talk to. But he didn't have time for regrets, when his show was shaping up to be all he had hoped for and more! So he ignored that thought.)

"I BET YOU'RE ALL WONDERING WHAT THE TWIST IS, MY DARLING VIEWERS? WELL IT'S TIME TO FIND OUT! DRUM ROLL PLEASE!" He pressed a button, and a drumroll played.

The Radiance rolled her eyes. While her dramatic shouting was born from rage, Mettaton seemed to actually enjoy being over-the-top. What was the point of it? (He reminded her a bit of someone, actually, but that hardly mattered.)

"MY SPECTACULAR ROBOT ABILITIES INCLUDE DOCTOR ALPHYS'S AMAZING LIE DETECTOR! FOR EVERY LIE OR BORING STORY THAT EITHER OF US TELLS, ANOTHER THRILLING HAZARD WILL BE ADDED AS PENALTY TO OUR FINAL BATTLE! SO WHEN I SAY "GIVE US THE JUICY STUFF," RADI, DON'T HOLD BACK OR YOU'LL REGRET IT!"

He lowered his volume to something more manageable as a couple of comfy chairs appeared. "Let's start simple. What brings you to the Hottest Spot in the Underground(ᴛᴍ)?"

"Well, I didn't come here of my own will, thank you."

Artificial laughter played from a speaker. The Radiance narrowed her eyes. That wasn't meant to be taken as a joke. "I was trapped, and dying, and I was trying to break free. And now that I have, I'm still lost and without my powers and everything's hot and metallic and noisy!"

"I am pretty hot, thank you for noticing. But I think you mean 'metallic and with a great stage presence'."

"I wasn't talking about you."

"Talking about yourself then? You radiate heat and light, and have excellent taste in metal leg design (I would know)," he gestures at her swordlike legs, "but if I had ears, they would have been destroyed by your screaming by now."

She goes quiet for a moment. Did he just compliment her? Well, he'd also insulted her beautiful voice. But he said he liked how she chose to appear. For a higher being, a compliment of their appearance isn't just a compliment of beauty (something uncontrollable), but their creativity. It means more than it would for any mortal.

"How would you know?" She pointed out after a moment. "You don't even have any legs!" Unless he was counting the wheel, which would definitely be cheating.

"Oh, look at the time!" He answered in a hurry. "It's time for the next question! Do you, uh--"

"I think I should get to ask a question, too," she said. "It's only fair. Unless you want your fans to think you're cheating?"

To her surprise, he agreed quickly. "Let's see what you can come up with!"

She debated asking the legs question again, but thought better of it. "You keep mentioning a Doctor Alphys... she invented you, correct? Is she the higher being who rules this land?"

Mettaton laughed; a real laugh that actually came from him, rather than a recording. "Alphys? A 'higher being'? She is a genius and a great friend, but I doubt that she'd call herself anything like that except ironically. She certainly isn't a boss monster, either, and as for ruling the Underground?" He leaned towards the camera as if telling a secret. "Asgore may be the king, but I'm the most popular monster on television, and that's what really matters. Aaaand technically that was two questions, but since I'm such a generous host I'll let it slide."

"Anyway, for my next question," Mettaton said, now that he had actually had time to come up with one. "Have you ever danced before? Or are you going into this dance battle unprepared?"

As usual, she responded angrily. "I may not have danced in a long time, but do not think I can't fight!"

"You really do remind me of someone," he said thoughtfully, tilting the microphone slightly away so it would be harder for the audience to hear.

"Strange, so do you," the Radiance remarked.

"Oh? Who do I remind you of?"

"My... brother, sort of. Sort-of-brother. We were part of the same... thing, so in mortal terms, I suppose that's what he'd be. Always talking about dancing and death and danger."

"Intriguing! You sort of remind me of one of my cousins." His screen flashed with an exclamation point and he immediately corrected himself. "One of the... prototypes, that is, because I am a robot. Bright orange and perpetually angry. But in the end, I think she was just trying to find herself."

I'm not trying to find myself, the Radiance could have said. I know who I am and what I want. I'm just trying to get it back! But for whatever reason, instead, she said, "Do you miss them? Your... prototypes?"

"Sometimes," Mettaton admitted. "And you? Do you miss your sort-of-brother?"

"No," she said immediately. Then she paused. "Well. We fought a lot. But..." She paused again, and blinked. "It's none of your business, anyway."

"I suppose it isn't," he agreed, to her surprise. "Why don't we wrap up this segment and take a brief commercial break before the FINAL SHOWDOWN!?" He pressed another button, and cheers played from a speaker.

After Mettaton's 'brief commercial break', which both of them had really used to calm down after that surprisingly emotional moment during the interview, the Radiance returned to see the stage completely remade once again. The puzzle and the chairs had been replaced by a glowing red and black octagon (he couldn't know, could he?) surrounded by those eyes of the audience that he called cameras. Near every camera there was a large speaker, bigger than those he used for his sound effects.

"NOW YOU MAY BE WONDERING HOW A ROBOT, EVEN A BEAUTIFUL ONE LIKE ME, CAN DANCE," Mettaton shouted into his microphone. "I WILL TELL YOU THAT ANYONE CAN DANCE IF THEY SET THEIR MIND TO IT. BUT THAT ISN'T THE WHOLE TRUTH! UNTIL TODAY, I HAVE BEEN KEEPING A GREAT SECRET! SOMETHING THAT NONE BUT I AND DOCTOR ALPHYS KNOW!"

He spun around, showing the Radiance the switch on his back, "Radi darling, would you mind flipping that switch for me? Thanks."

When she flipped the switch, steam billowed out of the construct and lights flashed in bright, fast-moving patterns. For a moment she feared that he would explode. (Why would she fear that? They were enemies, weren't they?) But when the smoke (or theatrical steam) cleared, she saw that was not what happened.

The construct had revealed his own bipedal form, pink and silver like Crystal Peak, with a swoosh of hair like a black-furred butterfly. There was a smug look on his face, and already he had started dancing, moving his arms and legs in ways that would be impossible for an ordinary bug to replicate. Music started playing from the speakers as Mettaton EX explained the rules of the final game.

"So," the Radiance said when he finished explaining, "I just have to get more people to cheer for me than for you? That just sounds like an ordinary day in my life."

"Perhaps, but I'd say being on stage is much better than being trapped and dying, isn't it?"

She thought he'd forgotten about that part. He certainly hadn't mentioned it again during the interview. "I suppose it is." She almost smiled. "But I still have years of practice more than you do. This will be an easy victory."

Mettaton smiled back at her. "I'm not so sure about that."

It was the most spectacular display of magic attacks that the television-watching Underground had ever seen. Mettaton's bombs, hearts, legs and lightning bolts exploded and danced around the Radiance's swords, sunbeam lasers, and dancing fire orbs. In the end, it was a tie, the audience torn between loyalty to their very own star and the even flashier and more colorful attacks of the newcomer.

The Radiance's glow was slightly dimmed, and smoke was coming out of Mettaton's joints as he addressed the audience one final time. "I'LL... SEE YOU ALL NEXT TIME... FOR ANOTHER THRILLING INSTALLMENT! REMATCHES! RIVALRY!... AND A... BACKSTORY REVEALED?? SAME TIME, NEXT WEEK.... ONLY ON MTT-TV!" He shut the cameras off with a click.

"Now if you don't mind, I need... to go recharge." The tired construct began to head for the exit.

"Wait-" the Radiance said, flying in front of him to stop him. "Did you mean what you said, about wanting me on your show again next week?"

"Of course," Mettaton said, as if it was only natural. "How else will we resolve this story? Everyone wants to know what will happen next. Besides, it was entertaining, wasn't it?"

"It wasn't completely miserable," the Radiance admitted. "And it did feel good to be admired again."

"Remember, same time next week!" He said again, and stepped clumsily around her and out of the room. "Don't be... late..."

An awkward-looking yellow-scaled creature stepped out from behind a rock and helped lead Mettaton away. But the Radiance just kept hovering there, not quite sure what to do.

Chapter Text

Toriel was on her way back from Chara's grave, preparing to finally head out of the ruins. She had been selfish for so long- whether she let the human children leave (sending them into danger) or tried to make them stay (a life in the ruins they would not be content with), she never left herself. She never considered the option that would mean coming out of hiding, and eventually facing the king.

Frisk was the seventh to fall, and, as Toriel was beginning to realize, her last chance to do something right. She had fought them- fought them! -in her desperation to keep them, and humanity as a whole, safe from the king. If she didn't do something, the king wouldn't be the only person at fault.

A flurry of red leaves exploded in front of her, startling her, and she automatically summoned balls of fire into her hands. Only then did she notice that it wasn't a bunch of leaves, but a billowing red dress, worn by some kind of insectoid monster. A very angry-looking insectoid monster with a gleaming sword. Not wanting to escalate the fight further, Toriel put away her fire and instead enacted her 'death glare,' usually guaranteed to scare away troublemakers.

Fortunately, the bug monster seemed to relax a little when Toriel put away the fire, or at least no longer looked like she'll attack at any moment. Unfortunately, she still looked incredibly tense, and didn't seem like she was going anywhere anytime soon.

As the two monsters held their tense staring context, Toriel realized that she didn't recognize this species. The stranger wasn't a Whimsun, or a Migosp, or any of the other buglike monsters in the ruins. Maybe some kind of spider, with that thread, but very different from Muffet's relatives. How odd... she would have thought she'd seen everyone in the ruins by now. She'd certainly been there long enough.

Finally, the stranger spoke, in a cold and demanding tone, lifting her sword to point at Toriel. "Who are you and why did you bring me here?"

"I am sorry- I do not know what you mean! This is the first time I have seen you!"

As if Hornet would believe that. The being before her had horns like a beetle but long, drooping antennae like a moth, and unlike the other creatures here which all fled from her, radiated power. Not to mention, Hornet had seen her wielding fire magic. Clearly, whoever this was either had some relation to a higher being, or was a higher being herself. "Do not lie to me. What is your intention?"

"Well- I am Toriel, caretaker of these ruins. Or, I was, though now I am preparing to leave. I do not think I have met you before today, and I do not know what you mean by 'brought you here'. Have you not always lived in the ruins?"

"A ruin, yes," Hornet answered, "but not this one. Do not think I would so easily mistake this for my home."

"I'm sorry, my--" Toriel cut off mid-sentence, than continued as if nothing happened. "I am sorry for my assumptions," she says. "But if not here, then from where do you come?"

"Why do you want to know?" Hornet answered suspiciously. Higher beings are not to be trusted, especially in matters of kingdoms that are not theirs.

"The exit of the ruins is just past my house," Toriel answered. "I still remember the way to the capital. I could give you directions, or perhaps we could travel together."

A house, not a temple or a palace? Against Hornet's will, her curiosity increased. She needed to get out and return to Hallownest, not explore! But... maybe by seeing Toriel's house, Hornet could learn more about this supposed caretaker and her motivations? Yes, that makes sense, she decided. "I will go with you as far as your house," Hornet said, "But that does not mean that I will travel with you." Especially since she had a feeling that whatever was past Toriel's house would not be Hallownest.

"Thank you for giving me a chance, m-- what is your name?"

"...Hornet."

My child. Toriel had almost called Hornet my child, multiple times. So maybe Toriel was lonely, and Hornet was a child... or, at least, probably a teenager. And Toriel did have a habit of taking in lost children- lost human children, anyway, since nobody else would. But that wasn't the real reason. The truth was that Hornet's sharpness and suspicion, far too prickly and guarded for a monster her age, reminded Toriel of Chara when they first appeared.

These thoughts ran through her head repeatedly as she led Hornet through the ruins, and she tried to push them away by talking about something else. She told Hornet about how she watched over the ruins and searched for anyone who might have fallen down, in a literal or figurative sense.

"Have you ever had to.. kill someone, to protect the ruins?" Hornet asked, looking thoughtful.

"Violence is not the answer," Toriel said.

"Life isn't always multiple-choice," Hornet answered.

"Still... I do not condone killing, and there are other ways to resolve a conflict," Toriel said sternly. She noticed that Hornet looked away- in fear, maybe (not guilt, she would not let herself assume that this young monster had killed someone). Perhaps she had been a bit too emphatic in her statement, and Hornet had misinterpreted it as shouting? "I apologize if I startled you."

"It's fine," Hornet said quietly. The next few seconds passed in silence.

"There are, though, some people that I could not save," Toriel continued. "I tried, but I did not try hard enough, or perhaps tried in the wrong way. That is why I must leave."

"So you would abandon those that are still here?" Hornet sounded bitter, but not surprised.

Toriel, on the other hand, was shocked at the accusation. "The monsters of the ruins, for the most part, can take care of themselves. I am not abandoning them by refusing to abandon someone else. I am going where my help is really needed."

Hornet didn't seem to have a response to this. Both ruins-dwellers walked silently for a little longer, and Toriel's thoughts circled back to Chara. So much weight on their shoulders... but we all believed the prophecy. Never mind that. This isn't Chara, this is Hornet. A different person with different problems. It would be wrong to say any more, to drag this newcomer into Toriel's old problems.

"I have some cinnamon-butterscotch pie at h- at my house, if you'd like it," Toriel offered. "Otherwise, I'm afraid all I have is snails."

Hornet answered, "I'll have the snails."

Chapter Text

The vessel did not recall how they got from the Nice Cream stand to where they now were. They remembered that their friend needed to leave. "My parents are gonna be so worried." (Though sad about this turn of events, the vessel understood. It would do more than leave for its parents.) They remembered that standing alone by the Nice Cream bug became awkward, and so they started walking. They remembered, vaguely, blue and black passing by them in various shades. But they did not remember the path that they took, nor how long it was.

Perhaps due to the influence of the oldlight, they speculated, though they had not felt that orange softness closing around their mind. Or maybe their thoughts were finally melting away, worn down by everything they had endured. That would be good, wouldn't it? It came too late, but to achieve their purpose would be a welcome thing- or, it should. Yet that thought made them uneasy. Armor, nail, prisoner, kingdom- all these things were gone. Their thoughts, though wrong and impossible from the start, were all that they had.

They continued walking.

...

It happened again. In the palace, they could not stop thinking, though they tried to force their mind into counting patterns on the walls rather than wanting and planning and fearing. So why was it that here, so far from their king and his kingdom- if this was not in fact a dream- that they found it so easy to slip into that Thoughtlessness, to let the world blur by them?

They wondered if that was how kingsmoulds must feel before being given any orders. Or were kingsmoulds given orders from the moment of their creation, as the vessel was? ...It did not matter. The vessel would never know the answer.

...

It seemed sudden to the vessel that there was a piano in front of them. It could not have been sudden; logic dictated that they must have walked up to it without paying attention. Yet it still seemed so, enough that they were startled when they finally registered what it was. It could not be here; pianos were Hallownest instruments. Pianos were the Hallownest instrument, in fact. Percussion and strings combined as a symbol of complexity, neat white keys and clear sound for cleanness and elegance, and the time and money needed to make one, proof of luxury.

If this were a dream, there was not much the vessel could do but continue on the obvious path. If real, somehow... admittedly, it wanted to continue anyway. It had not encountered a piano in a very long time.

The vessel sat down on the seat, hunching over slightly to better reach the keys, and played.

As a symbol of Hallownest's salvation, the king thought it fitting that they should play the piano. It was not really learning, the king said; it was just chaining together chords, similar to how it could seamlessly chain together attacks. No real thought or emotion was required.

They played tunes they had heard, and when they ran out of those, they improvised, connecting sounds and combinations of sounds. It frightened them, at first, the emotions that they felt when playing the piano, and how those emotions became audible. But they came to take comfort in it, in a similar (though more peaceful) way to how they took comfort in their greatnail training.

What the king did not understand was that he had given the vessel a voice. He had given them a way to express themselves, and one that would be not only overlooked but admired by those who saw them playing.

"oh... that sounds... nice..."

Hearing someone speak, the vessel began playing more softly, so that they could listen.

"i... haven't really seen you around here before..."

Without seeming to change focus, the vessel observed the speaker from the corner of their eye. They were transparent, and floating and glowed with a faint pale light. A jelly, maybe, like Monomon? But the pale light... was it possible that they were made of Soul?

"i just came over here because i like music too..." the pale jellyfish(?) said. "if you want to listen to some of mine... you can come to my house... maybe..."

How were they so uncertain? Did they not know if the vessel could find their house? ...Fair enough. The vessel wasn't even sure if they could find the glowing creature's house.

"oh... i'm bothering you aren't i?... i'll just... go now... ooooooo......" The ethereal not-bug floated away and vanished.

The vessel could have just continued playing the piano. But... some company would be nice, and they didn't want the nice floating being to think they were bothered by them. And it was basically an order, right? So it was alright to listen. This wasn't their own idea.

It did not matter, anymore. But justifying their actions was chiseled deep into the fossil-stone of their heart. They could not let it go so easily.

The vessel found the shapeless floating person again, hovering outside a fence. They said it was a snail farm, but the tiny things crawling around on the floor of the enclosure were smaller than any snails the vessel had ever heard of, more similar to the small crawling things like tiktiks and crawlids than to the ancient, reclusive mages that the vessel sometimes heard discussed.

The... Blook? Was that what they were called? The sign did say 'Blook Family Farms', so that would make sense. The Blook mentioned that they were the only employee, a familiar story to the vessel by now. Their sibling had met many bugs who were all that was left of something greater, and many with things to sell. They wondered if the Blook would try to sell them anything.

They hoped not. They didn't have any money to buy things with, nor any means to politely decline, and they would not want to end up inadvertently stealing from the tearful Blook because of this.

After a period of time where the vessel just stood there and watched the snails just snailing along, the Blook spoke up again. "oh... is this an awkward silence?... i made it awkward again, didn't i?... oh......." The Blook faded away again, this time in the direction of one of the houses.

The vessel followed.

The Blook seemed surprised to see them there. "oh... you actually came?... most people don't really... my house isn't all that interesting..." A couple seconds of silence passed before they continued speaking. "you can... look around if you want..."

The vessel sat down on the worn wood floor to examine the colorful little rectangles arranged by the wall.

"oh... those are my... mixtapes... you could listen to them... if you'd like to... or not..."

The vessel tilted their head slightly in confusion, which the Blook may have interpreted as curiosity, since they responded by putting one of the rectangles into a machine. And then there was... music, most likely. It did not sound like anything the vessel had heard before. No singing, no instruments, just strange sounds. Yet it was arranged like music, and it was enjoyable to hear.

"that one's... spookwave... do you like it?"

They had been managing so well so far. But when asked outright if they liked something, the vessel froze.

"oh... oh no... i didn't mean to scare you... oh.... it was too spooky, wasn't it?... ooooo......"

Having noticed a pattern by now and not wanting their potential friend to fade away again, the vessel stood up. They weren't sure how to reassure anyone, but their freezing had alarmed them, and moving was the opposite of freezing, so hopefully it would work. They walked over to the large white box and pointed at it.

"oh... that's my fridge..." the Blook seemed to cheer up marginally. "i have... sandwiches in there... they're ghost sandwiches, though... so... unless you're a ghost, they'll go right through you... i'm sorry..."

Were they supposed to respond to that somehow? If the little yellow bug was here, they could probably help. They seemed to know a lot about people.

"if you want, though... we could lie down on the ground and feel like garbage together..." the Blook (the ghost?) said. "it's... kind of a family tradition... after dinner we would lie down on the ground... and feel like garbage together..."

As far as the vessel was aware, garbage couldn't feel like anything. But, the little yellow bug had told them to 'feel better'. They suspected that feeling like garbage would indeed require better skill and practice, especially since their world had been kept pristine and they had not had much chance to even see garbage in person.

They accepted the Blook's offer, and lied down on their back with the tip of their face (what would be a snout, if they had either nose or mouth) resting on their chest and their horns leaning against the wooden floor.

It was quiet.

Their mind started to drift again. This time, they could hear a sound; a soft, comforting sound that indicated vastness. There was darkness in their mind's eye, but it was a darkness filled with soft color. It was the abyss, but if the abyss was a place of wonder and beauty instead of terror and loneliness.

When the sight and the feeling became overwhelming, they sat up. They knew how garbage felt, now; it felt small and surrounded by things much more significant and beautiful than itself. And that was not entirely a bad thing.

Chapter Text

Ghost was learning how to fight in the way of monsters. Papyrus had decided to teach them, "SINCE CLEARLY YOU STILL HAVE SOME THINGS TO LEARN," which reminded them of Mato and Oro. And they had accepted, since they were always eager both to fight and to learn something new, and this would combine those two interests. (And maybe, Ghost thought, Papyrus would adopt them too, like Mato had. Although they suspected that instance wasn't likely to be repeated, they could hope.)

Papyrus demonstrated his own attacks by summoning some for them to dodge, and they responded by showing off a few of their own spells. Apparently, his attacks used soul too, though it was his own soul. And his attacks must have used less at once, since he could summon so many. It didn't entirely make sense to Ghost, who wasn't completely sure how living bugs functioned in the first place and thought that this seemed different still from what little they did know.

Speaking of Souls...

"NOW I WILL DEMONSTRATE MY BLUE ATTACK!" Papyrus dramatically pointed a finger at the little warrior, and turned their soul blue... or rather, he turned the concentration of their magic blue. It was not packed together like a soul, nor did it have a consistent shape; instead, it was amorphous, sloshing around as though in an invisible fishbowl. Hm. So that was what he had felt.

He only paused for a split second at the sight; he had seen stranger than this, of course- or at least, he probably had. And it still worked somewhat like a soul, so nothing should really change...

He created a new obstacle course of bones. "ALRIGHT, NOW YOU MAY TRY JUMPING OVER THESE ATTACKS! IT WON'T BE SO SIMPLE WHILE YOU'RE BLUE!"

But it was so simple. Papyrus's new friend leaped over the obstacle course just as they had before, with their blue blob of magic trailing after them... and whenever it passed through one of his attacks, nothing happened. Was it because it was liquid, flowing around his magic instead of taking a hit? But I saw them take damage on my normal attacks...

They weren't connected to their soul; that could be the only answer. When their body was hit, they were hurt, but when that magic they carried with them was hit, nothing happened. Papyrus hadn't dealt with anything like this before, but he had dealt with something similar... and he knew someone who might be more of an expert than himself.

"ER, WOULD YOU MIND WAITING HERE FOR A MOMENT? I WOULD LIKE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO ANOTHER FRIEND OF MINE."

Ghost waited. Honestly, they weren't used to waiting; they could be patient when necessary, trying over and over to succeed at something, writing neatly in their journal, and sitting peacefully with people they liked. But if they wanted something to happen, they had to do something; they couldn't just stand there.

Fortunately, they did not have to wait long, or otherwise they might have decided to try climbing up to the roof just to see if it was possible. Papyrus returned after a few seconds... alone. Where was the friend he had mentioned?

"I'M SURE HE'LL BE HERE ANY MINUTE!" Papyrus declared. And he did sound certain. Ghost knew this didn't mean he was right; Mato had been certain that Ghost had climbed into the howling cliffs just to find him, but back then Ghost hadn't even known of his existence. But they liked Papyrus's optimism.

A minute later, the snow rippled and was pushed aside by golden petals, which unfolded into a flower with a face. "Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!" Flowey covered his mouth with a leaf and bobbed up and down, seeming to giggle, though to Ghost it sounded more like a quiet "hmph". "You're new to-" he cast a split-second glance at Papyrus. "-Snowdin, aren't ya? I'd definitely remember a face like yours."

"YES! THIS IS MY BEST FRIEND FLOWEY. AND FLOWEY, THIS IS MY FRIEND...!" Papyrus paused, as if just realizing he didn't know Ghost's name. But he didn't actually ask Ghost for their name, and so they didn't make any attempt to answer. After an awkward moment, Papyrus continued as if that hadn't happened. "FLOWEY IS EXCELLENT AT UNCONVENTIONAL BATTLES! HE MAKES DODGING COMPLICATED ATTACKS LOOK EASY! SO YOU HAVE SOMETHING IN COMMON ALREADY."

Ghost wondered how something rooted into the ground could dodge. Maybe by burrowing, the same way he had appeared?

"Aww, I'm not that good," the flower said, looking a little bashful. "Maybe your attacks are just getting predictable."

"OF COURSE YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO PREDICT THEM, SINCE WE'RE SUCH GOOD FRIENDS!" Papyrus said, unfazed by the maybe-insult. "NOW- RIGHT! I OUGHT TO GET SOME SNACKS AGAIN!" He hurried out of the room.

Papyrus knew that Flowey would show up. Even if Flowey thought it was stupid, all the other options would eventually bore him, and he would show up to meet Papyrus's new friend as he had asked. Papyrus knew this because, despite everything, Flowey was his friend. And if that was the outcome that Flowey had returned to after countless resets, then clearly he must want to have a friend.

He also knew that Flowey wouldn't outright say anything regarding his lack of a soul while Papyrus was there. Papyrus had never treated Flowey like he was anything but an ordinary monster; in all likelihood Flowey thought that Papyrus hadn't even noticed something was missing! Hence the sudden snack run, leaving Flowey and the newcomer to talk things out in privacy. Of course, the Great Papyrus would never place his new friend in any danger; he could come right back if things seemed to be going badly, and Flowey would have to put away all the spikes and play nice again! (Not that Papyrus believed this would be necessary; Flowey was capable of being nice on his own! But it never hurt to be prepared. After all, 'prepared' and 'Papyrus' shared many of the same letters.)

"He's sooo close and yet so far," Flowey was saying. "You are like me in a way. But you're not even from the Underground, are you?" The soft sound of earth and small rocks shifting could be heard; no doubt Flowey was sliding through the ground, ominously circling the newcomer. Papyrus winced in sympathy; that couldn't be good for his roots.

"Nooo, you're something else." Flowey's voice was lower, more eerie. He'd always been good at doing humorous impersonations, but this one wasn't humorous at all. Papyrus wondered for a moment if this was Flowey's real voice, then dismissed that thought. Flowey was only sounding that scary because he wanted to be scary. "You're dangerous, like me. And I think... we can help each other."

Maybe he was just talking about learning about how to battle? Hopefully? Papyrus could hope!

Flowey's voice dropped to a whisper- just for dramatic effect, probably, there's no way he could know that Papyrus was listening, right?- and Papyrus listened even harder. Listening intensified. If he had been watching instead of listening, his eyes would have bored a hole through the wall. ...But he couldn't quite hear what the flower said; all he caught was something about a striped shirt.

It could have been completely innocent; Flowey could have just been giving them fashion advice, telling the not-technically-monster how to fit in as a monster child in the Underground. But there was another thought that came to him, one that he couldn't shake away. That kid in the blue and purple striped shirt that had been hanging out with Sans lately... something seemed significant about them, though Papyrus was certain he hadn't seen them before today. Maybe they had been significant in a previous version of today, though, and if so, he had a definite sinking feeling that Flowey was talking about them.

Again, Flowey was his friend, and he'd been good so far. He would give him the benefit of the doubt. But he would also have to watch extra carefully if his new friend and Sans's little partner in crime ever met.

Papyrus returned suddenly, startling Flowey away from Ghost. They were honestly relieved; while the raspy voice and fanged face hadn't bothered them much, as they'd made alliances with frightening beings (such as Grimm and the Hunter) before, Flowey had had to enter their personal space to whisper to them. And since they wanted to hear the entirety of his dialogue, they hadn't pulled away, but they had been uncomfortable the entire time.

"I HAVE RETURNED! WITH SNACKS!" Papyrus declared. "NEW FRIEND, THESE ARE CHIPS. OR... CHISPS, AS THE PACKAGE SAYS." He narrowed his eyes at the misspelled packaging, as if saying I'll allow it... For now. "A TRADITIONAL SNACK AMONG BOTH HUMANS AND MONSTERS! FROM WHAT I HAVE READ AT LEAST. ɪ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴊᴜᴅɢᴇ." He deposited two bags of 'chisps' onto the snowy ground, one in front of Ghost and one in front of Flowey.

Ghost watched Flowey open the bag with a pair of vines, then followed his example using their arms. Flowey made a show of enjoying the chips, and Ghost, still not over the invasion of their personal space, stared directly at Flowey and placed the chips in their eye holes, eating in a way that they knew was unsettling.

...Flowey seemed to take this as a challenge and made a creepy face too, when Papyrus wasn't looking. Ghost found that kind of entertaining, and continued the unsettling chip-eating contest.

Chapter Text

The house was made of pale golden wood, with warm-colored knitted accessories and vases of various plants. Aside from this, Hornet knew little about it. Much as she wanted to explore, she first had to stand in the kitchen and watch Toriel cook. She had to ensure it wasn't poisoned, of course, and even if she naively chose to trust Toriel, Hornet could learn a lot about her from her idea of cooking. Would Toriel cook using magic? Would she create the food out of thin air? Did she have servants who cooked for her? Would she try to cook like an ordinary person and fail miserably?

As it turned out, Toriel seemed happy to let Hornet watch as she prepared a crust and a creamy sauce, and even handed the snails to Hornet, allowing her the job of removing their shells. "Usually I would just make a plain snail pie," Toriel said as she tore many leaves of spinach to shreds, "but a good friend gave me a recipe for a quiche recently. I hope that you do not mind."

"No," Hornet said quietly, "it's alright." Wyrms were functionally immortal, and were scavengers as well as hunters. Being half wyrm herself, Hornet could eat a wider range of things than most bugs could.

By the time they were done, the only magic used had been the fire Toriel used to heat the oven. Hornet had thought that some more might be used to speed the process of cooking, but according to Toriel, it would take just as long as usual. "You may go take a nap, or read a book, or wander around. But please do not wander too far."

"I'm sure there is plenty to occupy me here," Hornet answered, and decide to begin her investigation with the books that Toriel had mentioned.

It turned out that Toriel's library was significantly smaller and much less organized than the White Palace Library, or the Deepnest Library, or the Hive Catalogue. Perhaps the higher being did not feel the need to keep a record of history, having seen most of it in-person. But there were a few history books, hidden (or just misplaced) among joke books, cookbooks, and books about snails and other garden pests. Hornet picked one up and flipped through it.

Trapped behind the barrier and fearful of further human attacks, we retreated.
Far, far into the earth we walked, until we reached the cavern's end.
This was our new home, which we named...
"Home."

As great as our king is, he is pretty lousy at names.

Hornet puzzled over how the historian could be so irreverent to their king. The present tense was used, meaning that the king was still alive... perhaps he was not as all-powerful as the higher beings of Hallownest had been? But then, why had Toriel not taken over the kingdom? Was she just not interested in ruling? Or was there something preventing her?

Maybe there would be more answers further in. Hornet flipped through the book again, until capital letters caught her eye. Something important must be written here.

Fearing the humans no longer, we moved out of our old city, HOME.
We braved harsh cold, damp swampland, and searing heat...
Until we reached what we now call our capital.
"NEW HOME."

Again, our King is really bad at names...?

Not particularly useful, after all. All that Hornet had really learned was of a conflict with a hostile species called 'humans' (which seemed to no longer be a threat, maybe?), and the general layout of the kingdom. No answers as to the power dynamics of higher beings, or who Toriel was, or what the king actually was like. Perhaps Toriel is a hidden goddess, like Unn, she speculated. Not well known outside of her small area, and too weak or frightened to expand further. It would line up with Toriel's unusual kindness to her, and explain why her home was so understated... but if the king was as nonthreatening as the historian implied, then what kept her hidden away here?

Did she choose to diminish herself? Hornet pondered, once again thinking of the White Lady. Did she do something terrible, which she regrets? Hornet almost didn't want to find out; her own kingdom's secrets were enough for her. But she needed to know; she needed to understand what was happening here. Any information might help her survive, and help her eventually return to Hallownest.

She began exploring the other rooms of the house. The first was decorated all in warm colors, mostly red, with a small bed, a bookshelf, a dresser full of sweaters, and a chest of toys. It was a child's room... in a way, it reminded her of her own childhood, with the furniture like the nursery in the White Palace, and the toys and bright colors like her old playroom in the Beast's Den. That was... strange to think about.

She stayed there a little longer than strictly necessary before moving to the next room, which was decorated from ceiling to floor in light blue. A vase of vibrant yellow flowers immediately drew Hornet's attention in the sea of blue. She didn't recognize them as any plant she had seen before, though she tried to recall the White Lady's lessons on flowers and their meanings. Buttercups? No, these were far too big. Sunflowers? No, these were too rounded and had too few petals.

Well, unfamiliar kingdoms no doubt were filled with unfamiliar plants, just as they were filled with unfamiliar bugs. It likely meant nothing- or at least, it meant nothing to Hornet; she was no botanist. So she moved on to looking at other things. A book on the table had a bad joke on it, circled in red ink. A bucket next to the table was full of snails. A flowering plant in the corner of the room turned out to be quite prickly, which reminded Hornet of the Queen's Gardens.

The third and final door in the hallway was locked. If anything was suspicious, it was that. But she couldn't just repay Toriel's hospitality by breaking down the door; anyways, a broken door would look a lot more suspicious.

Finally, Hornet headed for the staircase, only to be stopped by Toriel.

"The pie is ready now, though it is still quite hot. Would you come sit with me and have some?"

Hornet did not refuse.

Sitting at a table, eating with someone else, was strange, but the pie was delicious. It wasn't often that Hornet had hot food (at least, aside from the slightly burned crawlids that resulted from her own attempts at cooking), and it had been very long since someone else had cooked something for her. Tasting the complicated mix of egg, spinach and meat was somehow comforting. She ate two slices, and wrapped a third in silk to save it for later.

Toriel sighed. "I suppose we should get going now. I will pack the rest of the quiche; it may be good to give to someone later, but I do not want to burden your inventory with it." She set the remaining pie into a large wicker basket which had apparently been under the table, and stood up. Does she just keep that there? Hornet wondered.

"Follow me," Toriel continued, heading for the stairs. So, it seemed that way was the exit. Hornet didn't want to leave before finding out what Toriel was hiding.

"If you do not mind, I will catch up later," Hornet responded. "You can go ahead, if it is urgent."

Toriel seemed about to answer- whether to agree or to insist that Hornet follow her, the princess wasn't sure- when something else interrupted her. A low rumble shook the ground, and a rushing sound began to build, sounding almost like a cacophony of distant bells.

Chapter Text

*(Your solution is to take a nap?)

"It won't take long," the heart insisted. "We need all our stats at their best since we're going to fight Papyrus again."

*(Spoken like a loser who couldn't get it first try...)

"If I fail, replaying the fight will take up a lot more time than just taking a nap for 10 extra hp does. I'm being smart. Aren't you supposed to be the strategic one?"

*(I never claimed that my plans were good,) Chara pointed out. *(Only that yours were bad.)

Frisk raised their hand and interrupted. "Why couldn't we check the ruins first?" Surely that would be easier, or at least wouldn't give them something to argue about.

And as it turned out, the others did agree on this point, but not in the way Frisk had anticipated.

*(You promised Toriel that you wouldn't come back.)

"The only way back is resetting, and I'm kiiiinda worried that might mess up what I already did."

"Oh." Frisk nodded. "Okay." At least they weren't arguing anymore. "...Maybe we can compromise and buy some more healing items?"

After stopping at the store and filling their inventory with bicycles- the frozen treat, not the vehicle- the humans proceeded past the town and into the misty forest where they knew they would find Papyrus. Frisk came to a stop in the freezing fog, listening as Papyrus started monologuing.

*(You've heard this already,) Chara pointed out.

It would be rude not to listen, Frisk would have answered, except they didn't want Papyrus questioning who they were talking to. And anyways, they didn't have anything better to do.

Sans watched from behind a tree, just in case. He knew Papyrus wouldn't kill the human; he had better control over his attacks than any other monster Sans had met. But that was also what made him so difficult to beat, and if he succeeded in bringing the human to Undyne, she would kill them. And, well... Sans did make a promise to keep the kid safe, even if he knew none of this was permanent. And he didn't want to see Papyrus's heartbroken face when he inevitably figured out what Undyne needed to do.

Over all, the battle was going well. The human had adapted to Papyrus's blue attack quickly- weirdly quickly, actually. Unless being a human gave them an edge with dodging and agility. And they weren't attacking at all, just dodging and... flirting? Well, as far as distraction tactics went, it worked.

Both Papyrus and the human seemed to be getting tired, but neither of them seemed inclined to stop any time soon... and then another monster joined the battle, leaping all around and parrying (or, trying to parry) Papyrus's attacks with a sharp piece of metal. Since they were wielding a physical object against magical attacks, it wasn't exactly working.

They figured that out pretty quickly, though, and switched to dodging and getting closer. Pretty soon, they were leaping up and bouncing off of Papyrus with their- sword? Was it a sword?

"EXCUSE ME!! THAT IS VERY RUDE! WE WERE HAVING A ONE-ON-ONE BATTLE!" Papyrus flailed his arms, trying to fend off the attacker. "I THOUGHT I TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN THAT!"

Frisk just stood there. Papyrus had stopped attacking, and they technically could just run from the fight and walk past him into Waterfall. But Ghost was strong, the heart had warned them, and was used to killing. They had to try to stop them somehow...

❤️ ACT

> ❤️ Shout

But they couldn't be heard over Papyrus.

*(To be fair, it would take a miracle to be heard over Papyrus.)

"PERHAPS WE CAN SETTLE THIS WITH... WORDS? CAN YOU WRITE? ACK- I WISH I HAD UNDYNE'S SPEAR RIGHT NOW..."

When Papyrus stopped flailing to take a breath, Ghost paused too, locking eyes with Frisk. They tilted their head towards Waterfall.

*(Do they think they're saving us?)

"Oh, that's so cute," Frisk said.

*(Except for the part where they're killing someone. Don't encourage them.)

"Either way" the player said, "they won't give up until they think they've succeeded. We need to go to Waterfall."

*(And just trust that they'll stop attacking?)

"Better than any of our other options. Let's GO!"

❤️ MERCY

> ❤️ Flee

Colors faded back into the world, and the soul vanished into Frisk's chest. The humans sprinted into the tunnel.

As soon as the human was gone, the new monster stopped attacking. They dropped to the ground as though all forward and sideways momentum had vanished, and bowed to Papyrus.

Sans finally stepped out from behind the trees, and was surprised when the bug monster immediately walked over to him and stared up at him.

"you were protecting the human, weren't you?"

They continued staring.

"good; that's one less thing that i have to do, then. it's always nice when someone does my job for me. just one thing..."

They continued staring. Honestly, it could rival Sans's own serious face. Speaking of which, it was probably fair to put the eye lights away for this particular conversation, right?

"papyrus is the kindest monster you'll ever meet. you're lucky to have a friend like him; don't betray that trust."

With an imperceptible sigh, he turned his eye lights back on. "good luck with the human."

They unceremoniously turned and walked away, giving no indication of whether they had really been listening or not.

Frisk strolled through waterfall, not really stopping to take in the sights. While the glowing lights were pretty, Snowdin was Frisk's favorite area. It was the player who was spinning around in wonder, looking at every aquamarine detail, although they had seen it all before.

*(Might want to hide,) Chara noted as they spied Sans at his second sentry station. (Or was it all the same sentry station? Did he bring it with him?)

"Not sure we can avoid him," they answered. "Might just have to deal with it. And who knows, maybe he's just waiting there to warn us about Flowey again."

It seemed like they were right, at first; the trip to Grillby's seemed to be going just the same as last time... until time froze.

Sans stared forward at his burger, not looking directly at the human. "papyrus is a really cool dude," he said. "he makes friends easily. you saw that yourself; when he couldn't capture you, he decided to be your friend."

Frisk remained quiet, waiting to see what his point was.

"he even has friends that he doesn't tell me about."

Oh, was this the part where he'd talk about Flowey?

"i think you've met one of them already."

Oh. He meant Ghost.

"be careful, kid. alright? and... don't take what a flower says as good advice. anyone can speak into those things."

Frisk nodded. They couldn't have told him what they knew if they tried; the player was keeping their mouth clamped shut.

Light and motion resumed, and Sans stood up. "welp, that was a long break. i can't believe i let ya pull me away from work for that long."

As Sans made a show of leaving the room, Frisk stuck the ketchup-covered burger into their inventory. Maybe they could sell it to the Temmies.

"He was talking like Ghost is as bad as Flowey..." Frisk worried as they walked back to Waterfall.

"I have faith in them," the heart said.

*(You sound as innocent as Papyrus right now,) Chara complained. *(You can't seriously think it'll all work out.)

"I know them. I've worked with them; I know what they do. They only kill when something's in their way."

*(Just like you, huh?) Chara said pointedly.

Frisk shivered.

"We.. just have to teach them that there's another way. Like you taught me, right? But my point is, they won't kill someone they like. And if they've already talked to Papyrus, there's good odds that they like him." Hornet and Ogrim were proof of that, weren't they? As well as Zote, who might actually be the best example- Ghost was far from fond of him, but still refused to kill him. "I really do think they'll learn."

"Let's go find the others," Frisk said quietly, ending the discussion for now.