Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kris expects the keypad to beep.

Things like this usually did, after all - even keyboards at least made those fun little tiptap noises when you used them. But as Dess stabs a number into the keypad, it doesn't make a sound. Nothing does, really - except the soft winter creaking of nearby trees and the crunch of Kris shifting their feet in the snow. They barely dare to breathe as they wait - and Dess and Asriel seem just as tense.

Even once she finishes the combination, Dess doesn't say a word as she takes a step back. For a long, long minute, nothing seems to happen - and Kris wonders if the old thing even works.

Then, with a soft squeal, the door to the bunker cracks open just enough to spy the darkness beyond it.

"Yes!" Dess exclaims, shattering the silence so suddenly that Kris startles at the sound, "holy shit, I can't believe it worked!" Without hesitation, Dess runs forward and slips her hands between the double doors. She starts to pull, straining with the effort. After a second or two, she huffs and demands, "C'mon Azzy, help me out here!"

"Oh - uh, right! Sorry!" Asriel answers, jumping forward to help. Feeling like they'd be in the way more than anything, Kris just stands back and watches as, bit by bit, the two monsters pry the door further open.

"Good enough, let's go!" Dess eventually says - and without hesitation she lets go of the door, slips through the still-narrow opening, and disappears into the dark insides of the bunker. Asriel makes to follow her - until he glances back at Kris, and realizes that they haven't moved.

The thing is, they can't move - staring into the darkness makes their stomach twist and ache. Something in their brain tells them that this is a really, really bad idea. That nothing good could possibly be waiting for them in the dark.

"Kris?" Asriel asks, turning to his young sibling - who bites at their lip and takes a step back. "Aw, c'mon, it'll be fun! You always say you're not afraid of the dark."

They weren't - usually - but this was really dark. After a beat, their brother's face curls into a soft smile and he holds out his paw.

"I know. It's like, extra dark in there, right?" he says, "but I'll be right next to you the whole time, okay? We're just gonna go in, do a little exploring, and then we'll be out before you know it." He pauses, again, and when Kris still doesn't move, he adds, "but if you'd rather go home, that's okay. Just, uh, hey - don't tell on us, okay?"

Asriel is kind, just like he always is - but the way he speaks makes Kris feel like a baby. They had promised that they were big and brave enough to come along - that was the only reason the teenagers had agreed to bring them - so they couldn't back down now. They'd never live it down. Asriel would be disappointed and Dess would tease them and all the kids at school would find out -

Kris curls their fist tight at their side and takes a deep, deep breath. Then, they step forward and slip their free hand into Asriel's waiting paw.

His smile grows bright as he curls his fingers around their hand, and then he pulls them into the dark.

As they slip through the opening and into the bunker, Kris can't help but pinch their eyes tightly closed. Even still, they can feel the darkness press against them - and it is a long time before they dare to open their eyes again.

There's a second where they can't even see Asriel, and their heart thuds loud in their chest - but then they make out the blurry outline of his fuzzy form. They squeeze his hand tightly - and can finally breathe again when he squeezes back.

"Hey slowpokes! You comin' or what?" Dess calls from somewhere ahead.

"Yeah, yeah, we're right behind you!" Asriel answers, his shout echoing around them, "find anything interesting yet?"

"Just some stairs - hurry up, I'll meet you down there!"

The sound of her hooves against stone is loud, at first, but fades quickly - and the idea of going underground does not make Kris feel any braver. In fact, their stomach is so twisted it feels like they could puke, if they tried. But Asriel continues forward, and this time Kris keeps their fear to themself.

"Careful now," Asriel says as he comes to a sudden stop, and Kris guesses they must be at the stairs. Their brother turns back, slight movement in the growing dark, and a paw lays against Kris's side as he helps them take the first step down. "We'll take it nice and easy, okay?"

Kris hums in agreement.

They find it easiest to slide their feet slowly forward - hesitating on each step until their shoes find the edge. Asriel lingers close to them - his paws alternating between holding them and hovering close enough to grab them if he has to.

Kris bites their lip as they concentrate - but as they descend, they realize that they really can't see anything, now. They can feel Asriel nearby, but even the vague outline of his shape is gone. They look down, and realize they can't see their feet - even though Kris knows where they are. Suddenly, they're really, really scared - so scared that it rises in their throat and grows tight around their neck. They stop, reaching out to grab at Asriel - but their hands move through empty air. Fear becomes terror and the feeling is strong enough to drive words from their chest.

"I want to go back," Kris says, softly - and when there's no reply, they raise their voice, "Azzy, please?"

He doesn't answer. Tears sting at Kris's eyes, and they bite at their lip to keep them back. They realize that they can't hear Asriel breathing, or the sound of his feet on the stone. They can't see him. They can't even feel him anymore. They reach out for him again, flinging their hands uselessly through the dark - and when there's nothing there they step forward and their foot twists and with a shout they stumble -

Across flat ground. They must have reached the end of the staircase without realizing. Kris catches themself, managing to stay on their feet, and they wrap their arms around their middle.

"Asriel?" They ask, pushing their voice as loud as they can - which they know isn't very loud at all, but he shouldn't be far. He should be right there - he'd promised to stay with them!

Asriel doesn't answer.

Kris turns in place, eyes straining as they try to see something, anything, in the dark. Despite their best effort, the tears fall then - streaking down their cheeks as Kris waits for their brother or their friend to come to their aid. To pick them up and apologize and take them out of this darkness and back to the moonlight and their mom and -

Asriel liked pranks - but he'd never liked them as much as Kris had. He'd once badly scared Noelle, and he'd spent a week following her around to tell her he was sorry - so Kris doesn't understand why he isn't helping them now. Why he's still playing this game. Why he has left them alone in the darkness.

In the silence.

It's so quiet.

And then - there's a shuffle. A footstep. Relief floods through Kris's veins. They walk forward in the direction they think it'd come from, reaching out a hand in the hopes they'll find someone familiar to grab on to.

There's another soft, soft rustle. Another step. A little of Kris's certainty fades. It was Dess or Asriel. It had to be. The bunker had been abandoned for years and years and years.

Hadn't it?

"Asriel?" Kris asks. Hopes.

There's a pause, and then a sudden flash of color. A pair of colorful, slitted eyes blink open and peer down at Kris. A wide smile full of bright, white teeth cuts through the dark. Behind the teeth, Kris can just make out a shape - a shadow that is strange and warped and wiggling.

Kris freezes - but then the thing shuffles closer, and Kris whips around and takes off running.

It isn't until much, much later that they will wonder how it is they never found the stairs. They should have been right behind Kris - but instead all they find is flat, stone ground. In the moment, though, they aren't thinking at all - they are only trying to get away.

They run until their chest burns and their feet ache and they want nothing more than to stop - but with every step they hear that monstrous shadow shuffle behind them, and they don't dare.

They hear it breathe - and as it exhales, a warm gust of wind passes over their neck and across their shoulders and Kris answers it with a terrified cry. They aren't getting away from the thing hunting them in the dark - it's only getting closer. It's right on their heels. It's going to catch them and eat them and no one will ever know -

Their foot catches on something in the middle of their path. They stumble, and then they fall - sharp pain pulsing up their arm as they instinctively catch themself on their hands and try to push right back up to their feet. But momentum carries them forward, and they tumble right on to their face. The stone cuts at them, scraping them - but they hardly notice as they scramble back to their knees and reach forward and -

Find a wall. Frantically, they run their hands up and across it - but it seems to be a dead end. Turning onto their butt, they press their back against the stone - heaving as they stare up into the darkness.

That same, vivid smile once more pierces the dark - sharp eyes curl up at their edges. There is laughter - soft and sinister.

They want to cry out for their brother, or for Dess, or even their mom - they want to beg the monster not to hurt them. But as the creature looms over them, they can't seem to make a sound - their mouth opens and closes uselessly.

And then, something hard clatters against their hand.

Kris jolts - but almost without thinking they lay their hand on the object and curl their fingers around it. There's something immediately familiar about the shape of it, about the way it fits in their palm - like its meant for holding. They lift it - a heavy end tilts forward in their grip - and they have no idea what it is but it's all they have and so they pinch their eyes closed and tighten their hold and with a cry they lash out at the space in front of them.

They hit something - the object in their hand catches on it and after a single, useless tug, Kris lets it go. There's a brief pulse of silence - Kris opens their eyes to see that the teeth are gone. The eyes are gone.

Something gurgles in the dark.

"K - Kris?"

The voice is strained and strangely wet but familiar.

"Dess?" Kris whispers back, barely daring to believe.

The girl doesn't respond - her hoof taps once against the ground, and it's all the warning Kris has before there is a loud thump and the feeling of a sudden weight in their lap.

Kris cries out, startled - and when they reach down they find a head of hair in their lap. Their fingers trail along it, until they finally find a soft, fuzzy, and familiar pair of antlers.

Then, there's a soft poof and the weight vanishes entirely. Seconds later, Kris chokes on a sudden throatful of dust. It sprinkes across their skin - settling over their face and their arms and when they slip their hands into their lap they find a whole pile of it. They're confused, at first - Dess had been there. They were sure of it. So where did she go?

And then, they are struck with a memory.

They had been little when Snowy's mom died - but their mom had brought them to the funeral, anyway. As they'd stood together in a wide circle of monsters, Kris had watched in confusion as Father Alvin had sprinkled a whole bowlful of dust over a small, sparkling crystal. As he'd prayed, Kris had tugged on their mom's dress until she'd looked down at them. It'd taken her a moment to read Kris's confused look, but then she'd given them a strained smile and had said -

"It's called dust, honey. You see, when monsters go to heaven, their bodies turn to dust. Father Alvin is sprinkling it in something very precious, so that her memory is with us always."

Suddenly, Kris understands what it is that has coated their skin and piled in their lap. They heave on one too-shallow breath, and then another.

And then they scream around the bile in their throat.

They don't even really mean to, but once they start they can't seem to stop. They scream, and they scream, and they might have sat there screaming forever except suddenly there are paws on their shoulders and someone is shaking them and slowly they start to register Asriel's voice.

"Kris! Kris! What's wrong? Are you hurt? Kris, please talk to me!"

At the sound of Asriel's voice, Kris reaches out desperately with their hands, trying to grab onto whatever it is they can reach. This time, they find him - and they curl their fists tight in the front of his shirt. They know they have to tell him what had happened. They have to explain. But they can't seem to force the words past their sobbing.

"H-hey, Kris - it's okay! It's okay, I've got you, just - just hang on. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" Asriel says, scooping them up into his arms without waiting for an answer. Immediately, Kris turns to bury their face against him.

"I'm sorry," they finally manage to whisper as Asriel holds them close and hurries through the dark

Sometime later, Asriel carefully sets Kris on their feet. Confused, they briefly cling to him - realizing a second later that they are outside of the bunker now. Sniffling, Kris looks around them - hoping to see Dess nearby. Hoping that whatever happened underground had just been a bad dream -

"Kris?" Asriel asks then - and when Kris looks up at him, they see him watching them with that face of his. Where the corners of his eyes pinch and there's a smile on his maw but it doesn't quite reach his cheeks. The sort of smile he'd once given them when they'd asked if their parents would ever stop all this fighting.

"What've you got all over you?"

Trembling, Kris looks down to see that their clothes are covered in a fine layer of dust.

It hadn't been a nightmare.

Dess wasn't there.

They pull in a breath. Then another - quicker, faster - and soon enough it's all they can do to keep breathing in tiny, rapid gasps.

"Whoa! Hey - easy, Kris. Here - I've got you." Asriel crouches down, and his arms wrap snug around them. Then he squeezes so tightly that Kris's breathing starts to slow despite themself.

"There you go, that's better. You're okay. Hey, let's get home, alright? Dess -" He lets them go and stands, and then looks around the clearing with a frown on his maw. He huffs, and then heads over to the bunker doors - where he pushes his head through the opening and shouts -

"Dess, come on! Funs over!"

Kris bites their lip, trembling as they wait for a response. Maybe they had imagined it. Maybe it was something else in the dark, and not Dess at all. Maybe, Dess would come bounding out of the bunker any second now to tease Kris about being a baby -

"Dess! Seriously! I need to take Kris home! If you don't get your butt up here, I'm gonna leave you behind!"

He waits. Kris waits. Fresh tears run down their cheeks. When there's still no sign or sound, they step forward to grab at Asriel's shirt. They give it a tug, and he turns to look at them. They aren't sure what he sees on their face, but his head tilts slightly to the side.

"What is it? Oh - are you worried about Dess?" He waves a paw, "don't be. She's tough - she's probably just down there looking for you. You were screaming pretty loudly, you know."

Kris shakes their head, but Asriel only smiles.

"Once she figures out we aren't down there anymore, she'll come up. We'll go and visit her tomorrow, okay?"

Kris opens their mouth - they need to explain. They need to tell him what had happened. They need him to go and look for Dess. To find her. Because if he can find her then Kris will know everything is okay and they didn't kill her it was all just a nightmare -

But as Asriel waits patiently for them to speak, the words die deep somewhere in their belly.

With another shuddering breath, Kris instead lets their chin fall forward into their chest - and when Asriel comes over to pick them up, they just wrap their arms around his neck, press their face into his shoulder, and they don't say a word.

Their parents fret, when they get home - Toriel is quick to brush at Kris's front, worrying over where all that dirt had come from. Kris only grimaces, and tries to slip out of her paws - and that's when Asriel offers up a lie.

"We were at the playground," he says - so sheepishly that for a second even Kris almost believes him, "Kris took a tumble from the swings, plopped right into all that sawdust -"

"Why on earth would you take them out so late?" Toriel scolds, "oh Kris, dear - are you alright?"

No, they aren't. Not even a little bit. But they still can't seem to say a single word. So, after a second, all they do is nod.

As their mother hurries off to fetch a fresh set of clothes, Asriel steps closer and lays his paw on Kris's head. When they look up at him, he offers them a smile and a wink.

"Our little secret, huh?" he teases - and Kris looks away.

Chapter Text

Your first memory is of a human named Chara.

It was through Chara's existence that you had first become aware of your own. The day they had fallen into the Underground, you had awakened - or, at least, had become suddenly aware of thoughts and feelings and sentience separate from the vessel that housed you.

And from that first moment, you had recognized your vessel as scarred. Traumatized, hurt, and above all angry - but there was nothing you could do. You had no say over what Chara did, said, or felt - you couldn't so much as speak to them. In those days, you were nothing but a passive observer.

Thankfully, Chara found help on their own. Among the monsters of the Underground, they found a family to love them. A mother to nurish them. A father to teach them. A brother to adore them. Friends to entertain them. In the Underground, Chara found a whole community capable of giving them what they had clearly never had.

But though you could tell Chara's love for their family was genuine, it was not enough to heal them. It couldn't completely soothe the fury in their soul. Chara hatched a plan - and although you knew it was fruitless and dangerous, you had no way to stop them.

There was nothing you could do but watch as Chara destroyed themself, their brother, and the hopes and dreams of the entire Underground.

And when the dust had settled, you found that you had persisted - and you were utterly alone. Just a living soul lost somewhere in time, with nothing but the faintest memory of your vessel to warm you.

You can't be sure how long you drifted - amiss and without purpose - before you were gifted with another vessel.

Another human. A child even younger than Chara had been. Just like with Chara, you had stirred awake inside of Frisk after they'd fallen into the Underground - and from that very moment, you had been determined to save them from Chara's fate.

This time, your will meant something.

You found yourself in almost total control of little Frisk. You walked them forward. You decided where they went. What they did. What they said. And sure, on occasion they acted beyond you - they spoke on their own or made little gestures of their own volition - but for the most part, they followed your commands.

If ever they were bothered by your control, if they so much as knew you were there, they never let on. They never fought you, they never complained - and in the end, you were able to guide them safely through an Underground full of dangers.

In the end, you and Frisk had freed the monsters - you had brought them back to the surface.

And when Frisk stepped through the doors to follow after their newfound family, you had stayed behind. You had done your duty, after all - and you knew Toriel and the others would keep Frisk safe from then on out.

You had thought to return to Asriel - to Flowey - to keep the monster company in his self-imposed isolation. But without a human vessel, your connection to the physical world weakened much quicker than you expected.

Before long, you had returned to that strange, empty place in-between.

And that is where you have been ever since.

It is dark. Empty. Lifeless. You drift between long moments of nothingness and blessedly short moments of awareness - and in this, time has long since lost meaning for you. It could be days that pass. Years. Centuries. Millenia. You don't dwell on it - when you can think at all, you simply think of Chara. Of Frisk. You flood yourself with memory until you slip back into nothingness.

You drift. You exist. You wait.

Then, one day, something changes.

You become aware of a presence - a faceless voice that speaks to you. It welcomes you to create a vessel - and you do so eagerly. You're thrilled by the thought of once more having a body - and this time, one you have crafted from scratch. One that would be well and truly yours. You select each option carefully, slowly - piece by piece creating a body you would gladly inhabit.

When it's finished, you gaze at the form with longing. Hope. Love.

Then that formless voice destroys your creation.

And you find yourself caged.

Chapter Text

Long after even their mom has padded off to bed, Kris stays awake.

They stare up at the ceiling, half covered by their blanket as they listen to Asriel's increasingly less-than-gentle snoring. They lay there until the sound of their mom's much louder rumbling finally fills the air and only then does Kris dare to move.

They sit up in bed, and without really meaning to they glance towards the pile by the door. The boxes are full of Asriel's belongings - most of his clothes and all of his new supplies and a few other random things of note - and they've been carefully stacked together, ready to be shoved into the car come morning. So that they can drive eight hours away and leave Asriel alone in a place he's never been - where he'll stay for months before Kris gets to see him again -

They grit their teeth and push that thought away - and immediately they think of the other pile of boxes. It'd been at the edge of the living room for weeks, now - only occasionally shrinking one or two boxes at a time. It was the rest of their dad's stuff, the things that hadn't been driven over to his flower shop yet.

This week, Asgore - or else I will be donating them to the church.

Kris's stomach twists, and they rub at it hard with a hand. There wasn't time for this. Kris had things to do. Tonight wasn't about Asriel going off to college - or how excited he seemed to leave his family behind. It wasn't about their parents' getting a divorce - or the look on their dad's face when their mom had told them. Tonight wasn't about Kris or their family at all.

Tonight was about Dess.

The very thought of the teenager only makes Kris's nausea worse. It had been two years, now, since that night in the bunker - and the memory was still as fresh now as it had been then. Most nights, Kris woke up with the feeling of dust coating their hands and filthying their clothes and clogging their throat -

Asriel had owned up to their real late night adventure as soon as they'd realized that Dess had not come home. It had set off a town-wide manhunt - where a small team of adults had gone into the shelter to look for Dess and everyone else had spent days combing over every nook and cranny of Hometown and the forest around it. Mr. Holiday grew ill. Mayor Holiday started locking herself away in her office until late at night. Noelle stayed bright, optimistic, friendly - but sometimes, when she thought no one was looking, Kris would catch her staring out the window with something wet on her cheek.

And through it all, Kris hadn't said a word.

They had tried. From the very moment Asriel had confessed, Kris had tried to do the same. But each time they'd open their mouth, the words would catch in their chest. The admission would refuse to leave them - no matter how hard they tried to force it out. Every failure hurt - their secret stabbed at their chest, squeezed at their heart, tangled their guts. But as days became weeks became months, the chance seemed to slip farther and farther away - until the very idea of admitting to their crime would make Kris so sick they couldn't even leave the bathroom, let alone say anything to anyone.

Now, they weren't sure anyone would believe them even if they could manage to get the words out.

The closest they'd come had been one night with Asriel.

They'd been sitting together by the water, quiet as evening turned to night - and out of nowhere, their brother had whispered -

"I really miss Dess, Kris. I can't believe she won't be going to college with me…"

The confession had all but flown to the tip of Kris's tongue. They'd opened their mouth, had felt sound building in the depths of their throat. They'd even managed a single word, the first they'd spoken since Dess had disappeared -

"I -"

"I think she ran away," Asriel had interrupted, and with that single phrase, what Kris had wanted to say retreated back into that awful, biting pain in their chest. "I think she planned to run away the whole time…taking us into the shelter was just a cover." Asriel had tucked his knees up into his chest, laid his chin between them, and sighed, "I wish she would have just told me, though. Doesn't she know I wouldn't have said a word?"

Kris had made some sound of agreement, and the moment had passed.

They'd never gotten that close again.

Now, Asriel was leaving in the morning, despite Dess's absence. The town was starting to accept the permanency of its loss. Fliers with Dess's face on it were becoming fewer by the day - those blown away by the wind no longer being replaced. People weren't talking about it as much. Before long, most of them would start forgetting about Dess entirely.

And no one but Kris knew the truth.

Which was why they had to go back to the bunker.

They didn't know what they expected to find - they weren't even sure what questions they hoped to answer. All they knew was that something in their gut was pulling them back to the darkness and if there was any chance that they would find relief by doing so, then they had to take it.

Kris slips from the bed onto their feet and sticks their hand into their pajama pocket. From it they pull out a wrinkled piece of paper, which they unfold and scan just to be sure that the number written there hadn't changed since the last time they had looked.

The new code to the shelter, which they'd pilfered from the center console of their dad's truck.

Kris takes a moment to mouth the number to themself once more and then, satisfied, they shove it back into their pocket. With one last glance at Asriel - still soundly asleep - Kris walks over to the window and carefully climbs their way outside.

This late at night, the clearing around the shelter seems even quieter than Kris remembers.

As they circle around the hump of the shelter and approach the doors, their hands begin to shake. In an effort to still them, Kris shoves them into their pockets - the fingers of their left hand ghosting over that same bit of crumpled paper. They take a breath and step closer still - letting the paper against their skin remind them of why they were there.

Slipping their hands once more from their pockets, Kris reaches forward to pry at the edges of the metal cover of the keypad. It comes free without much effort and beneath it the numbers are just as worn down as Kris remembers. For a moment, Kris can only stare - and then they steel themself with a breath and reach up to stab the first number in. Then the second - which takes a little more effort, as the '2' doesn't depress easily.

"Good evening, Kris."

The sound that escapes them is a choked sort of yelp as Kris yanks their hand away from the keypad and whips around. They shove their hands behind them, crossing their fingers tight together, as if that might hide what they'd been doing.

With wide eyes, they look up into the face of Carol Holiday.

Immediately, they try to come up with an excuse - but all they can manage is that same, silent working of their mouth. The kind of expression that makes them look like a gaping fish - and as Carol watches them, Kris would swear her face darkens.

They take an involuntary step back towards the bunker doors. For a long, long minute, Mayor Holiday doesn't say anything else. She only watches Kris - glancing slowly between them and the shelter itself.

Then, finally, she turns around.

"Come with me," she says - and then she starts to walk away.

At first, Kris stays where they are - staring after their friends' mother as she moves further away from them. They didn't want to follow her. Something inside of them is screaming that it'd be a bad idea. They didn't know what she wanted, or what she would do - but they knew that they really, really didn't want to find out.

"You won't find what you're looking for in there," Mrs. Holiday says, coming to a stop. She waits and, despite the waning summer air, Kris feels all at once cold. Goosebumps trail up along their arms, and with a swallow against a suddenly dry throat, Kris pushes away from the bunker and follows after Dess's mother.

Kris doesn't know where they're going - but it still surprises them to find themself in front of City Hall. The building is dark, closed, and empty - but without preamble, Mayor Holiday walks up and unlocks the doors. With a look that makes it clear she expects to be followed, she pulls the doors open and slips inside.

Kris considers going home instead. Running home, even - but their feet move forward and the next thing they know they're inside.

They follow Mayor Holiday past the front desk, through the doorway in the back, and into her office - and then further, still, through a door Kris had never paid attention to before. Beyond it is a short hallway empty of anything except a single elevator.

Mayor Holiday crosses over to it, presses the button on the wall, and the elevator doors immediately open. She gives Kris another look, gestures inside, and waits as the teenager dutifully obeys.

Carol follows after them, the doors close, and their descent begins.

They are silent for what feels like a long time - and just as Kris is starting to wonder how far down they're going, Mayor Holiday speaks.

"Kris. I know what happened the night that December disappeared."

Their whole body freezes. Their heartbeat stops entirely. Kris's eyes lock onto the elevator panel - and they can't seem to move them anywhere else. They can't seem to move anything - no matter how loudly their brain screams at them to run.

She knew?

How could she possibly know?

"I know that you killed her."

Kris starts to shake - and when finally they find feeling in their legs, they use it to step further away from the adult. To press against the elevator wall - where their knees start to fold and the next thing they know they're all but curled up in the corner.

Their jaw moves. Nothing comes out. They don't even know what they'd say if they could.

Carol holds up a hand.

"The only thing I need to know is if you're prepared to fix your mistake."

Kris's confusion must be obvious, because she hardly waits a beat before continuing -

"You are the only one who can bring December home to me - and that is just what you're going to do."

The elevator rumbles to a stop and the doors crack open. Beyond them is a room that is dark - lit only by a dim red glow that seems to originate somewhere across from the elevator. Deep in the glow is a shape - but Kris can't quite make out what it is. Even still, goosebumps trail once more across their skin and they can't help but shrink down a little more as, for the first time in years, they finally find their voice.

"How?" They ask.

Carol's face splits into a bright, wide smile.

Chapter Text

Without a vessel, you have difficulty with things like senses. Your sight is limited to the radius of your own glow. Sounds are badly muffled. You only feel direct touch - and you haven't any sense of taste or smell at all.

So you don't even notice them until they are right in front of you. Until they step into the light of your glow, startling you from your far-wandering thoughts.

A vessel.

They come to a stop on the other side of your glass prison - and you are struck by a sense of familiarity.

They are dressed in an oversized, striped green turtleneck - the pattern very like the shirts Chara had so often worn. They've a shock of brown hair - longer and messier than either of your previous vessels, but of a similar if not exact shade. They are lanky, tall for a human child - although you suppose they're likely a teenager rather than a child at all.

They look at you through the glass - deep shadows underscoring a pair of dull red eyes. Their brow is furrowed, mouth pinched into a line - they look uncertain. Afraid.

A shadow moves behind them - words you can't quite make out rumble in the air. A single hand - a gray hoof, really - lays across the human's shoulder. They shudder at the touch. They take a small half-step away - and almost instinctively, you move forward.

You bump into the glass, and shock jolts through you.

More words from the taller, obscured figure. The human takes a breath - their whole chest moves with the force of it - and then they force themself forward.

They slip the glass off of you - and then they reach in and with careful, trembling hands, they take hold of you.

Their touch is warm. Familiar. Soothing. This is not the vessel you had crafted but you are still struck by the certainty that they were made for you. You move without thinking - you lift yourself free from their hands and without a second of hesitation you find their chest.

You sink like fluid through flesh and bone and muscle to nestle yourself into the hollow space at their core. Their speeding heart thrums through you, until you and it are one in the same - the catch in their breath becomes yours. The sound of their blood pounding in their ears deafens you. You can feel their fear - you twitch a finger, and it turns to terror.

And so, you glow.

You bathe them in the warmth of you - flood them with the Determination that defines you. It is the only thing you can think of to try to soothe them.

Their hand clutches tight at their chest as they stop breathing entirely. The world closes in. You know what's going to happen seconds before it does - but there's nothing you can do to stop your vessel from passing out.

Taking you into the dark with them.

"Kris! C'mon, get up - do you want to miss breakfast?"

You waken as the eyes of your vessel blink open, and you are greeted by a world of gray, strangely muted color.

A moment later, they tug the blanket from over their head, and you realize that you are actually in a room. Golden sunlight - soft and early - filters in through a half-opened window. Above you is a plain, beige ceiling - and, then, a face enters your sight. More aged than you remember, but achingly familiar all the same.

"Asriel?" You ask in your vessel's voice, and the monster's face wrinkles. He laughs, leaning away, and responds -

"Uh, yeah? Who else would it be? C'mon Sleepyhead - mom made pancakes!"

He hurries away, and as he does your vessel - Kris, you tell yourself, their name is Kris - sits up. Their hand lifts first to their mouth, where they trace along their own lips - and then down to their chest, where they lay their palm across their heart.

Across you.

Your shared heartbeat starts to race.

Kris takes a long, deep breath - and you can feel them pull on their own willpower as they push themself from bed and onto their feet. As they steady themself, you take the chance to look around your new room.

Which feels almost as if it's been completely split into two. What must be Asriel's bed is covered in a heavy, striped down comforter - Kris's in a thin, gray blanket. The walls surrounding Asriel's bed are decorated with trophies and pictures and little hanging stickers - while Kris's side is plain, unadorned, and devoid of much else but their gray-draped bed, empty shelves, and a single lamp.

You aren't sure what to make of it - and so, for now, you squirrel the details away into your as of yet scarce understanding of your new vessel.

Then, realizing they had yet to move again, you urge them forward.

It's obvious that this vessel is more aware of you than the other two had been - but even still, you fully expect Kris to step towards the door with smooth, pliant movements. You expect their limbs to react as if they were your own.

Except, they don't. Instead, their muscles tighten in response to your urging - and as they move forward they stumble and then fall, hitting the carpet on their hands and knees. For a long second they stay there - until they push themself back on their haunches with a shuddering breath.

A little more gently, you urge them to stand - and their whole body trembles. Instead of obeying you, they bring their hand once more to their chest. They press the tips of their fingers into their skin with enough force to hurt - and you go very, very still.

It seems impossible - but you would swear, just for a moment, that they'd almost managed to touch you.

You decide to keep to yourself, for a bit. There doesn't seem to be any immediate danger, after all - and given their reactions so far, this seemed to be something that would best be taken slow. So you wait - and, eventually, Kris finally stands.

They take an experimental step forward, pause, and then take a second - and then they walk slowly from the room.

They enter a hallway that feels distantly familiar to you, and they turn to the right. A few steps more brings them to a mirror. They pause there, and then finally lift their head - and when they meet their own dull red gaze, you feel as if they're looking directly at you.

It's you, you helpfully supply - the words lingering somewhere in that place between comprehension and gut feeling.

Kris's eyes grow wide, and they flinch backwards, immediately dropping their gaze back to the floor. In the silence that follows, you feel a stab of guilt that feels undeserved, all considered.

"Who are you?" Kris eventually asks. Their voice is exceptionally quiet and flat - more a murmur than anything else. Even still, it fills you with warmth.

You can't respond, of course - it isn't as if you can speak to them directly. So you wait - and after a long second, Kris once more lifts their head to look at their own reflection.

It's you, you repeat - trying to suffuse the thought with the warmth nestled in your core.

Kris's lips pull into a tight frown. They study themself without answer. Then, they shake their head slowly - once, twice, back and forth - and they lift their hands towards their scalp.

With a surprising show of sudden, aggressive movement, they ruffle violently at their hair. They lean forward to rake their fingers through the strands - and when they all but fling themself once more straight, you find that they have covered their eyes entirely.

"No," they murmur - and then they turn away.

The warmth curdles to unease, and without an ounce of guidance from you, Kris walks down the hallway.

Chapter Text

Once, when Kris was still too little to read, they had stolen their mom's favorite book.

They'd sat on the floor of the bathroom with it nestled on their knees and had flipped through the pages - mostly wondering about the story their mom seemed to like so much. They'd imagined something bright and colorful - maybe full of dragons and swordfighting and maybe some adult things like kissing or holding hands.

What they'd found instead was a book full of pictures of monsters that looked like them.

Monsters with no fur or claws or horns. Small monsters with two eyes and two arms and two legs and hair all over their heads. Some had dark skin, some had light, most had skin tones somewhere inbetween. Some leaned on canes, or sat in wheelchairs, or had bandages on. Some were older. Some younger. But on every page, Kris saw themself.

And on one of the last pages of the book there was a diagram. It was a gray, featureless outline of a Kris-shaped monster with a bright green heart placed at the center of its chest.

Kris had spent the rest of the night in the hallway in front of the mirror - trying with all their might to see their own heart-shaped object. Trying to see if they could somehow pull it out, mostly just because they wanted to look at it. But try as they had, all they'd managed to do was tire themself out - and leave small, finger-like bruises on their chest.

The next morning, they'd brought the book to Toriel - and that's when she told them about souls.

"It lives inside of you," she'd said, resting the tip of a claw at the center of Kris's chest. "It makes you who you are. We very rarely see them - but it's there, little one. You were born with it, and it will always be with you."

Which had been very comforting to a small child who had just started to understand what it meant to be different. After all, their mom had gone on to tell them that monsters had souls, too. That she had one, just like Kris did - and in this, at least, they were the same.

Then, only a few years later, Kris realized that their mom had been wrong.

They'd been play-fighting with Asriel - and in a moment of frustration he'd accidentally let out a little bit of magic. It'd been a tiny thing - blazing white and shaped like fire - and it had flown right at Kris.

For a moment, Kris had seen that place in the center of their chest - exactly where the soul was meant to be. They'd watched in stunned, scared silence as the magic hit them - and then as it had passed harmlessly through them.

There had been no soul there to stop it.

And so, Kris has lived their whole life so far without a soul - and sure, they'd had a panic attack or two about what it meant to be possibly the only living thing without one. Who wouldn't?

But mostly they'd just accepted it - even deciding, at one point, that the book must have been wrong. After all, it'd been written by a monster - and who knew what kind of assumptions the author had made. Who knew if they'd ever even met a human? Maybe humans didn't have souls at all - or maybe some did and some didn't and Kris just happened to be one of the latter.

Except they weren't, now. Now they had a soul. They'd had it for a few months now, in fact, and it hadn't taken them long to decide they'd been better off without it.

The damn thing was nosey and incessant - chock full of curiosity that meant that any time Kris went somewhere new they were forced to spend hours looking at things in detail. Sometimes they'd even get stuck looking at things in their own home - things they'd looked at time and time again - just because one thing had changed and apparently the soul thought that meant everything else might have changed too.

It had done serious damage to their already established reputation for wandering off - and now the adults in their life trusted them so little that their own mother insisted on holding their hand anytime they were in public together. Even into the school - which had not done Kris any favors with their classmates.

But it wasn't as if Toriel was wrong to worry - the one time she'd been in too much of a hurry to guide them in, Kris had ended up in her classroom where they'd spent nearly ten minutes studying a pile of chairs.

It had been an impressively tall stack of chairs, to be fair, but there hadn't been any reason to look at it so long. Toriel had set her own class to reading so that she could take Kris back to theirs - and as Kris had finally slipped into their seat, they'd heard her whisper to Ms. Alphys -

"You know how they are."

Kris had sunk deep into their seat, their face blazing red as a few of their classmates glanced their way. They had clutched their chest tight, and even though they didn't dare do anything in front of other people, they'd entertained themself for awhile with images of crushing the heart-shaped thing between their fingers.

The pupeteering was bad - an annoyance at best and terrifying at worst - but almost as upsetting was Kris's growing dependence on the soul.

Since the day they'd accidentally ripped it from their chest in a manic desperation to be rid of it for two goddamn seconds, the knowledge that they could remove it had been a source of freedom.

Except that every time that they do, it feels a little like they're ripping half their muscles out with it.

Walking on their own feels like a chore, now - and those first few minutes of freedom are always spent shambling like a zombie while they wait for their body to fully respond. At the end of the day, they are exhausted from fighting the soul's control - but if they take it out, they get just as tired being away from it.

As if they needed this thing - this interloper they'd gotten along just fine without for so long - to function.

It's been hardly an hour, this time, and they're already feeling its absense. With clumsy, trembling hands, they lock the school doors behind then. With as fast a pace as they can manage - a heavy shamble at most - they make their way up the path towards home. They're grateful for the darkness, at least, and all but hold their breath in the hopes they can make it back unseen.

They do, thankfully - and with an effort that nearly steals the rest of their strength, Kris hefts themself up and through their bedroom window.

They land on their face on the carpet - and they're very tempted to fall asleep right then and there.

But they haven't once managed a whole night without the soul - and the fear of not waking up at all drives them back to their feet.

Their face pinches into a scowl as they approach the cage at the foot of their bed. The soul sits inside - hovering and glowing and silent as usual - and in their mind Kris imagines the thing scolding them. With a huff, they whip the cage door open, snatch the soul in a hand, and without an ounce of ceremony shove it back into their chest.

It passes through them without injury - but their whole body jolts all the same. Their breath catches, their muscles seize, and for a long moment they can't move at all.

Then the soul settles. Kris's body relaxes. And before the thing can take back control, Kris plops right onto their bed - not even bothering to move the covers.

They're all but asleep before they even hit the mattress.

"Wake up, Kris - if you do not, we will be late to school!"

All too soon, their mom's voice is waking them. With a groan, Kris shifts - thrashing until they manage to kick off the blankets they must have slipped beneath in their sleep. By the time they free themself, Toriel is already gone - and Kris rolls themself clumsily to their feet.

They stand for a moment and take a breath to brace themself - and, then, the soul begins to move them.

Almost immediately, they turn to their bed and step towards it - and they hiss as their calf hits the wooden frame.

"The bed," they mutter through gritted teeth - and then, "clothes drawer," when they're made to look at that next. The soul pilots them around the room, bringing them to every object - Asriel's bed. Asriel's dresser. Their own bed again. The computer. The cage in the corner of their room.

The kick they aim at the little red wagon is all them - as are the less-than-charitable thoughts about tossing the soul into the bars and leaving it there to rot.

They pass through the house in similar fashion. Step by slow step - looking at every single thing as they go. They try their mom's door - which is locked, as usual - and as they turn to head down the hallway Kris catches their reflection in the mirror.

They don't mean to look - they hate looking - but for a second they find their own gaze.

It's only you.

The thought doesn't feel like their own, and Kris looks quickly away.

By the time they make it downstairs, what little time they might have had for things like breakfast or hygiene has passed. They can hear the van running outside - their mom is waiting - and the best Kris can do is splash some water on their face while the soul checks out the bathroom sink.

"Ready?" Toriel asks as Kris leaves the house - and if she notices anything amiss, she doesn't say a word. So neither does Kris. Instead, they only nod and - with their own feet, at least - climb into the passenger seat of the van.

There's quiet music playing on the radio, and with a soft sigh Kris leans into their door.

"Are you excited to see Asriel next week?" Their mom eventually asks. Kris nods in agreement - the truth - and they feel more than see their mom's gentle smile.

"I am sure he has missed you, as well. Ah, but I wonder…what will he think of our sleepy little town, after being away?"

As if in answer, Kris catches sight of something rustling in the gentle autumn wind. They narrow their eyes - and realize it's a faded MISSING still half-stuck to one of the telephone poles.

Kris lets their head hit the window with a soft thunk.

They wonder what Asriel will think, too.

They spend the rest of the ride in silence, their mom humming along to the radio. Before long, they pull into her parking spot at the school - and as they both climb from the van, Kris dutifully crosses over to her and slips their hand into her paw.

Their face reddens - but their mom doesn't seem to notice.

She guides them into the school and, at the cross-section of the hallways, she stops to give them a hug.

It's tight. Lingering. Warm. With a soft sigh, Kris's embarrassment melts away. As usual, they don't return the gesture - but their mom doesn't comment on it. She ruffles their hair as she finally lets them go, and as they turn and head for the classroom they can feel her smile on their back.

Kris pauses - and, for a brief second, they look down the hallway to their right. At the end is a closet closed behind a heavy door - and Kris can just barely see the inky darkness pooling beneath it.

Their heartbeat quickens.

They turn their head further to look at their mom, as if they'd paused for her sake. She lifts a paw and gives them a little wave, and then makes a shooing motion. Ducking their head, Kris continues on to their classroom.

Chapter Text

Susie shouts in alarm, the rugged sound of her voice echoing in the air that flies past you. Kris, meanwhile, only makes the slightest of sounds - a brief catch in their throat as the floor falls away. Their grunt when they hit the ground moments later - hard enough to send a shock wave of pain through you, too - is a little more audible.

They lay there for a moment, stunned - and by the time they finally heft themself up to their feet, you see that you are alone.

Susie is nowhere to be found. The surfaces around you are gray and dull and lifeless - the horizon too dark to see through. You've grown so used to the bright cheer of Hometown that the difference between there and here is stark. Unease ripples through you - amplified by Kris's own touch of fear - and you are careful as you guide them forward.

They move easily under your command. There is no resistance from your vessel at all, in fact - although you aren't sure if that's by their choice or because you are that much stronger here. You don't really stop to consider it.

You pass by the first few black, eye-shaped holes - but then, curious, you turn Kris back to look inside. The first is empty, or at least too dark inside to make anything out of - and so is the second. The third. By the fourth, you feel pretty confident that they will all be empty - but you make Kris look, anyway. This feels like the sort of place that would hold secrets. Where the laws of physics don't apply. Where there might be puzzles or timers or - and sure enough, it isn't long before you come across just that.

A set of those same eyes with buttons glittering inside - and you hardly hesitate as you tell Kris which to click and watch as the path opens.

That's when it occurs to you that this place feels a lot like the Underground.

And when something in the darkness comes alive and shoots at you with bright pulses of magic, you are all at once in your element. You feel Kris freeze but with practiced ease you push them forward and dance them smoothly through the bullets - keeping yourself and, by extension, Kris safe from harm. It leaves their heart pounding, their breath tight - but it makes you feel alive.

This is a game you know very well - and just like that, you don't find the dark world scary at all. With much more enthusiasm, you urge Kris forward.

You follow after Susie. You meet Ralsei. You hear the Prophecy. It all seems a little too fantastical for your taste, but you don't see any harm in helping the dark world out. You meet Lancer. You watch as Susie grows fond of the little playing card - and as she opens her heart, you feel a sense of vindication.

You'd liked her from the start, nevermind Kris's doubts.

You encounter the Rudinns. The Hathys. Seam. A host of other darkners - almost all of which attack you on sight, but who are easy enough to soothe, befriend, and SPARE.

To you, the dark world is a breath of fresh air.

You don't recognize the face of a single Darkner - here, at least, everyone is as new to you as they are to Kris. It's a welcome change to Hometown - where you are surrounded by achingly familiar faces. Once friends and even family who don't recognize you - who you know wouldn't, even if you were still nestled in the chest of Chara or Frisk. Who wouldn't even know the names of the children you had cared so deeply for - every interaction reminds you of their absence.

On top of that, there is so little use for you in the light world. Kris is hardly in any danger there, after all, and they react to even your most minor interferences with irritation and resistance and frankly most days leave you exhausted enough to almost appreciate it when they rip you from their chest and leave you to rest.

But here, in this dark world full of magic and danger, they need you. Here, you can and must keep them safe.

And you do. You dodge and weave. You ACT and SPARE. You FIGHT and HEAL. You learn quickly how to DEFEND and PACIFY - and just as quickly how to use Kris to command Ralsei and, later, Susie. You solve the puzzles that come your way. You guide your little trio - a time or two with Lancer along for the ride - through the dark world. You take a hit, here and there - each one a brief but violent stab of pain that makes Kris grimace - but it's nothing you can't handle. You never let a hit slow you down.

You inch closer to the castle. Closer to the fountain. Kris seems eager to be home - but the closer you get, the more disappointment you feel.

You aren't ready for the adventure to be over.

And, so, when you find a prison cell with a peculiar stranger locked inside, you hardly even pay attention to the things he says. All you hear is keys, all you see is a chance to extend your time in the dark world - and you don't hesitate to turn your troupe around.

It's the first time you feel Kris pull against your control. They stumble, just once - but as Susie catches them by the elbow, you easily bat away their resistance.

And you urge them onward.

Chapter Text

"Um, Kris, are you - are you sure this is a good idea?"

No, Kris wants to answer - but all they manage is a grimace they doubt Ralsei even sees. No, actually, they think this is a terrible idea. A waste of time. If it were up to Kris, they would not be trudging aimlessly through the dark looking for the keys to free a madman. They would much rather be moving on - making their way to the fountain, whatever that takes, so that they can seal this part of the dark world away.

There was no sign of Dess, here - they would have to keep looking. They would have to open another fountain somewhere else.

Unfortunately, the soul seems to think that this distraction is a worthwhile use of their time - and Kris has no choice but to let it drag them, and their companions, along for the ride.

I'll show you what it means to be free, free!

The words from beyond the prison door - all that talk about freedom and who was caged where - curdle in Kris's gut. From the moment they'd entered the dark world, what little control they'd had over the soul had vanished almost entirely - and the irony of those strings now working to open someone else's cell is not lost on Kris.

At least it doesn't take long, all considered. Seam just gives them one of the keys. Another is hidden behind a puzzle that actually takes the soul a few minutes to work out - much to Kris's vindication.

They'd figured out the answer much more quickly - but, of course, the soul didn't bother to ask them for their opinion.

As they start searching for the last piece, Kris wonders if the soul had picked up on their enjoyment of its struggle. It certainly seems like it, given the way the soul spends the next ten minutes shoving Kris bodily into walls and corners. They skate along with the strange, dancing darkners - pushing and brushing against the edges of the rooms until, to Kris's surprise, they stumble through an opening and onto a path they'd have never seen on their own.

As they catch themself and straighten, they huff a soft breath through their nose.

Lucky guess, they think. If the soul hears them, it doesn't react.

From there, it's easy enough to return to Malius to have the key fixed. The hammer-headed darkner warns them not to go using the thing - and Kris can almost feel the sweat dripping down Ralsei's forehead.

"Why would we go fixing a key we weren't even gonna use?" Susie scoffs, and Kris knows the soul feels the same way - even if they'd rather just drop the key into the darkness and be done with it.

But, instead, they take it back to the cell and use it to open the cage.

Kris isn't entirely sure what to expect of the stranger inside - but the whirling walls, spinning floor, and homicidal jester probably wouldn't have been their first guess.

Even after the first barrage of bullets - of which there are far more far quicker than they're used to - Kris isn't really worried. The one thing they could say about the soul was that it seemed to know what it was doing when it came to fighting. Sure, they'd gotten hit a time or two in their adventure - which had been painful and unpleasant - but never with any lasting injury.

Then comes the dancing knife.

The first hit surprises them - the sensation of being sliced open makes them stumble. The second scares them - the pain from the first searing fresh before it's even worn off.

The third hit kills them.

Kris can feel the way the soul breaks in half - as if their own body has been ripped into two pieces. It punches the air from their lungs. They fall, collapsing onto the ground hard enough to bruise. Every inch of them burns. Their muscles seize, they choke as bile rises into their throat. The world pulses at the edges of their vision, narrowing in with every second - something wet seeps from their eyes.

And then, the world around them jolts. Flashes. Flickers.

Rights itself.

"Dude? You doin' alright?"

Kris stands just outside the opened prison - completely healed and intact. Slowly, they lift their hand and place it over their chest - beneath their palm, they feel the beat of their heart. They feel the warmth of the soul. They don't understand what's just happened - but they nod anyway.

"We don't have to go in there if you don't want to," Ralsei offers with a soft smile in his voice. Kris manages to huff.

Any hope that the soul might listen to him vanishes as Kris steps forward and passes once more through the doorway.

They lose - they die - fifteen more times - each time just as painful as the first.

In the end, they finally outlast the terrible little jester. Kris is the last one left standing, bruised and bleeding but alive - and as soon as Jevil concedes the fight, Susie and Ralsei push themself up onto shaky legs.

Kris exhales a breath they didn't know they were holding. They shove away the Jevilstail for later - deciding not to think about the fact that it was just the jester himself bundled into a more convenient form.

He wasn't exactly pleasant company.

But, they'd done it. They'd won. They were finally free to continue. The soul seems to have the same thought, and it wastes no time in leading the group back to the castle proper.

The rest of their time in the dark world seems uneventful by comparison. There's a moment, when Rouxls ambushes them in an empty room, where Kris worries they're about to get into another drawn-out fight.

But, no. Rouxls turns out to be just another lackey - albeit an especially funny one.

When they find him in his shop, the sight of him splayed across the counter almost makes Kris laugh.

They even feel their lips curl into a small smile.

But whatever good cheer Rouxls gave Kris vanishes in the face of the King.

Kris wasn't interested in hurting any of the darkners - and so, they were more than happy to go along with Susie's plan to somehow get past the King without fighting him.

It is difficult, though, when the darkner threatens to throw Lancer over the side of the castle.

The very thought takes Kris's breath away, and their hand grows painfully tight on the hilt of their sword. They can tell Susie is having just as hard of a time containing herself - maybe even a harder one - but she manages to hold back.

They best the King - exhausting him so that he can't fight anymore. To Kris, that's the ideal state to leave him in - but they watch in horror as his words of mercy and friendship manage to sway Ralsei.

Ralsei, don't! Kris wants to cry when the darkner approaches the King, paws glowing a familiar soft green. But the soul doesn't move. It doesn't interfere. It just lets Ralsei heal the tyrant they'd just spent half an hour wearing down.

They're nearly killed because of it.

The King takes the three of them off-guard, sending them to their knees - and then, to Kris's horror, he aims a devastating blow at Susie.

Kris breaks free from the soul's control and throws themself in front of her. They block the bullets with their shield, successfully pulling the King's attention away from Susie and onto them instead.

His next hit lands and sends Kris flying back across the floor. The soul holds on - but Kris can feel the damage done to it. It flutters violently in their chest, each beat unusually off-tempo from that of their own heart.

The king lifts them by the front of their armor. They sense more than see the bullets that hover above their head. They brace themself for the pain of death - wondering how far back they will reset this time.

Wondering, with a touch of fear, if they will reset at all.

And then, there comes a stampede.

Every Ruddins. Every Hathy. Every single darkner from this world comes to their aid. They swarm around and over the King, heft him up onyo their collective shoulders, hurry him away, and just like that it is over.

Just like that, the way is clear.

Susie wants to say goodbye to everyone and, apparently, so does the soul. Kris's first instinct is annoyance - but as they talk to more and more of the darkners, their agitation fades.

It…was nice, actually, to say goodbye.

"Come back soon!!" Lancer says - and Kris feels a pinch in their chest. They offer him a small wave of their hand and turn away - finding it all at once difficult to look at the young, silly darkner. Susie exchanges another high-five with Lancer - and then she comes to stand at Kris's side, slinging an arm around their shoulders.

"Alright, that should be everyone - let's jet!"

A few minutes, and one fluffy surprise later, they finally come to a stop in front of the fountain.

It towers above them, bathing the world around them in darkness too thick to see. There's an eerie sort of hum that comes from it - in a way, it almost seems to be breathing.

Kris knows they have to close it, but as they stare up at the rushing wind they realize they aren't even sure how to do that.

Thankfully, they don't have to know - this, too, seems second nature to the soul. It slips free from their chest without hesitation and rises high into the air. Then, with a bright, radiant burst of light, it seals the fountain.

The world goes dark and silent. All Kris can hear is the sound of their own breath and the pulsing of their blood in the depths of their ears.

"Ow! Hey, watch it!" Susie bumps into Kris, her voice sudden, loud, and very close. Kris stumbles themself - foot kicking against some toy or another - and just like that they know they're back in the light world.

With a bit more bumping and stumbling, Susie manages to flick on the closet light. They both take a moment to look at the mess around them - at the scattering of toys and games that had made up the dark world - and then they make their way out of the closet.

"We should go back, tomorrow," Susie says with an unfamiliar gleam in her eyes. Kris looks up into her bright, lopsided grin - and they can't help but offer her a small and careful smile in return. Susie reaches out and ruffles at their hair, then turns and starts to head down the hallway - her fingers laced behind her head and a whistle between her lips.

Kris watches her go - and in their head they hear the whispered words of a prophecy. The very same one Ralsei had told them earlier that day - the one he had expanded on, while he and Kris waited alone for Susie to come to their rescue.

The Girl, Kris thinks - and the smile fades from their lips.

Their steps feel much heavier as they make their way home.

Or, at least, try to. Unfortunately, the soul has other plans. Instead of heading for the Dreemurr house, the soul guides Kris through a full lap of the town. They go to the Librarby. The apartments. The diner. The graveyard. They talk to every single monster they come across - more than one remarks on Kris's strange friendliness.

They stop at the hospital. Noelle is surprised to see them - Kris doesn't answer when she asks why they're there. They don't tell her that they don't want to be. They don't say that the sterile smells and the sight of Mr. Holiday coughing in his bed makes Kris's stomach clench and roll. They don't mention the goosebumps on their skin or the way their heart might just beat out of their chest.

Instead, they ignore her question. When she leaves, the soul asks Mr. Holiday a few things, and makes Kris look at every stupid thing in the room before finally walking them out.

As they walk north, Kris spots Sans standing at the doorway of his shop. They hadn't met the monster themself, yet - but they'd heard a thing or two about him from their mom. They thought he sounded like a joke.

So when the soul hurries them over, and the words it's good to see you again escapes them, Kris is mortified. They clap their hands over their mouth - but Sans doesn't react beyond his usual, wide smile.

"You too, kid. Especially since I've never met you before."

Kris hurries away - and they'd swear the soul feels just as frantic.

By the time they finally make it home, Kris is exhausted. Not even the thought of fresh pie is enough to keep them from their bed - although they do file that information away for later. They manage to mumble some sort of greeting or acknowledgement to their mom - and then they trudge up the stairs to their room.

Their legs hit the side of their bed - and they pause. The mattress looks so comfortable - the thin gray blanket especially welcoming. Kris wants nothing more than to plop down onto them face-first and pass out for as long as possible.

But they don't move. They can't move. They grit their teeth and imagine falling forward and nothing happens.

It's as if they're waiting for permission.

The release is sudden and unexpected, and Kris tumbles forward into their bed. They take a moment to snarl down into the mattress - hoping that the soul can feel every single bit of their growing irritation.

Not that they hold onto it for long. Their bed is so comfortable. Their eyes are burning. For a moment, they shove the soul out of their mind entirely and crawl more securely onto the mattress. They tug the blanket free of their body, toss it over their head, and fall asleep not two seconds later.

They sleep soundly. Heavily. Without stirring or dreaming.

Until, suddenly, they're awake.

It's dark in their room, nighttime bleeding through the curtains. With a soft groan, Kris shoves themself from bed - falling to their knees on the floor.

They breathe. Inhale. Exhale. They lift their arm. Flex their fingers.

And then they plunge their hand into their chest. Or, at least, the thing that passes as their chest - the invisible barrier between them and it. With now practiced ease, they wrap their fingers tight around the soul - and then they rip it free.

Strands of red as vibrant as the soul trail from their body to the small, heart-shaped object in their hand. Kris's body shakes and trembles. With great effort - and a false start or two - they manage to push themself up to their feet.

The effort makes their hand tighten. The tips of their fingers sink into the strangely warm skin of the soul. It pulses, just once - just like a heartbeat in their palm.

Kris lurches towards the cage at the foot of their bed. As soon as it's in reach, they whip the soul into it - mouth curling just slightly when it slams into the bars opposite the opening. The force of the strike makes the door swing shut - and it locks into place with a click.

The soul moves to the center of the cage - and then it hovers there. It doesn't thrash. It doesn't fight. It simply floats. Waiting. Glowing. Watching.

Judging. Kris's brow furrows as they level a glare at the heart inside the cage.

"Stay," Kris murmurs, pointing first at their own eyes and then over at the cage. There's no response - not that they really expected one, anyway.

Satisfied that the soul wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon, Kris finally turns away. As they move towards the bedroom window - each step a little easier than the last - they reach for the knife tucked at their side. They slip it free, holding the hilt tightly, and they reach out to shove the window open.

They toss a leg over the sill. Then the other. And then they shove away from the window - falling gracelessly to the grass below.

By the time they climb back to their feet, they feel a little stronger still.

They take a breath and tighten their grip on their knife.

They had a fountain to make.

And a pie to eat.

Probably in that order.

Chapter Text

Cyber World is like nothing you've ever seen before.

Sure, Hotland had been a hub of technology in its own way - full of hissing vents and metal doors and Mettaton himself - but it couldn't hold a candle to this new dark world. Dark world being something of a misnomer, really - because Cyber World is bright. Vibrant. Loud - full of car horns and tires on the road and shopkeeping darkners shouting from all around you. Everywhere you look there are flashing neon signs - advertisements and information and sometimes just big pictures of Queen's face.

You love it.

It's fun. Lively. You'd walk with a spring in your step if you had that much control over Kris's movements. You drive them forward, as always, and you stop to talk to everyone you meet and look at every little thing that catches your interest. Buttons. Computers. Advertisements. A trio of radio-shaped darkners are almost always playing music somewhere nearby - and the tune is as upbeat as the city itself.

Even Queen delights you more than anything. You think she's funny as hell - and when she steals Noelle away in a cage, you aren't as concerned as the teenagers seem to be. You just can't imagine that Noelle is in any real danger. After all, Queen seems genuinely taken with Noelle.

And she probably won't actually replace Noelle's face with a robot. Even if she does, surely closing the fountain would fix her.

You enjoy the arcade game Queen forces you to play - and you don't miss the tiny smile on Kris's face when Susie grabs their arms to help with it, either. You work as a team - your commands telling Kris's hands to move. Susie's arms giving them the strength to do so. Ralsei the stool - giving you all a lift so you can actually reach the controls.

For a moment, you almost feel like part of the group. For a moment, Kris seems to enjoy themself.

It's a shame when the gaming system explodes. But, somehow, not especially surprising.

You recognize that Queen, like any Boss with a predetermined Plan, is a danger to Kris - but you just can't find it in yourself to be all that afraid of her. In fact, you suspect she will be easier to sway in the end than the King had been.

And you'd have gladly traded Berdly for ten Queens, if necessary. You'd have taken five Jevils if it meant not having to deal with the bird. The lightner wasn't actually dangerous in any way - but he was obnoxious. Loud. Rude. And just flat out annoying.

It's a sentiment that seems to be shared by everyone else, too.

You watch Susie drag Ralsei away, and you huff. Or, at least, you would if you had breath of your own - but your exasperation doesn't quite reach Kris. In fact, if Kris is bothered by their sudden isolation, they don't show it. They just watch as a small group of cone-shaped darkners seal the alley their friends has just disappeared down.

Well, you think, there was no other way to go but forward.

You guide Kris onward. In the next room, you see Susie and Ralsei following a distant path parallel to your own - by the room after that, you don't see them at all. As you navigate Kris past roads full of fast moving cars, you realize that the city seems a lot bigger when it's just the two of you. It feels crowded. There's more dirt and trash than you'd noticed before. Darkners hide out in dark corners, all too eager to ambush your vessel the moment they pass too close.

Some of the whimsy fades. You move a little more carefully. You hope you have the chance to reconnect with Susie and Ralsei soon.

Instead, you find Noelle - but she's a friendly face and you know beggars can't be choosers. Somehow, Noelle manages to stay out of Queen's clutches - and you come away from tbe encounter with three competing truces as well as a companion.

You and Noelle don't get very far before you encounter your first enemies. It's a pair of darkners called Ambyu-lances - and as usual, they lunge at you without so much as a 'how do you do.' Kris settles in, their sword held loosely in their hands, and you prepare to finish the fight as quickly as you can.

"K-Kris? What is this? What's going on?" Noelle asks, and her voice surprises you. You'd forgotten that the other lightner wasn't like Susie - she didn't know the dark world. She didn't know what was going on. She certainly wouldn't know the first thing about fighting.

"It's a battle," you try to reassure her through Kris's voice, "kind of. But don't worry - it's really easy. You won't get hurt."

Much, anyway, you think to yourself.

"A b-battle?" Noelle asks, eyes widening even further, "Kris, you know I wasn't ever any good at wrestling! I don't know how to fight. What am I - what do I do?"

"Just do what I say," you answer - and you turn your focus onto the darkners.

On the first turn, you have Kris offer their hospitality to the Ambyu-lances. They clear their throat - once, twice - and then finally offer in that quiet, pinched voice you were growing familiar with -

"Want something to drink?"

One of the darkners perks up - all at once ready to SPARE. So, you gesture for Noelle to go ahead.

"Huh? Spare them? How do I -"

"Just ask nicely, usually," you offer. Noelle bites at her lip and looks towards the Ambyu-lances - than, after a moment, she says -

"Um - let's not fight anymore, okay?"

"Sure, you got it!" The first Ambyu-lance says - and then they turn and hurry away, leaving their friend behind. The other darkner scoffs.

"You'll have to do better than that, sweetheart," they say.

You know, of course, that it's all bluff - maybe even just friendly banter. With another kind word from either lightner, this Ambyu-lance will gladly follow after their buddy. After you've slipped and dodged your way past their attack, you reach out to give Noelle a try at ACTing.

But as you settle briefly into her being, you quickly realize there's more to her than meets the eye. There's the hint of magic in her veins, buzzing at the tips of her fingers. It's not dissimilar to Ralsei - although there's something strange about Noelle's magic. Out of curiosity more than anything, you tell Noelle to use Iceshock.

You expect, of course, that it might damage the darkner a little bit. But you doubt Noelle will manage any more than that - if Iceshock is an attack at all. After all, in worlds like this, magic by such a name could just as well be smoke and mirrors. Meant for showing off more than anything else. Meant to startle or impress or convince.

What you don't expect is to watch the Ambyu-lance become suddenly and fully encased in a chunk of ice. It ends the battle immediately - leaving you stood in front of the newly created statue. You wait for it to thaw - for the Ambyu-lance to free themself and give you what for. Surely they'd be pissed after being turned into a popsicle.

But nothing happens. The ice remains, without so much as a bit of condensation on its surface. Wide, empty eyes stare out at you from within the glacier. Kris's heartbeat kicks up a notch. Guilt eats at you. You hadn't meant to do that. Had you killed the darkner?

"W-what happened?" Noelle finally asks, "did I - um, I mean, did we win?"

You don't answer, and neither does Kris - although you can feel their face twist slightly at the question. You're the one who urges them forward, but it's Kris who chooses to reach out a hand and lay it against the ice.

Frozen solid.

"Kris?" Noelle presses, "Is something wrong? I was just - I just did what you told me to do. That's what you wanted, right?"

"Right. It's fine," you finally say through Kris's voice, "it's fine. I'm sure their friend will come back and help thaw them out."

Because they couldn't be dead - darkners didn't die. You'd seen Susie hurt one or two badly enough that they'd fled battle - but they hadn't been killed!

"Oh - yeah, okay. Sure." Noelle agrees. You linger for a moment more, Kris's hand still flat on the ice - and then you pull them away, turn them around, and move on. Noelle follows after.

"It was kind of fun, though," Noelle says, after a few seconds, "using magic, I mean. Can you use magic, Kris?"

Kris answers, themself, with a brief shake of their head and then a shrug. There's quiet again, only for a bit before Noelle continues -

"Fahaha, you know, you've been awfully talkative - I don't think I've ever heard you say so many words at one time! Guess this really must be a dream, huh?"

Kris doesn't answer.

You're almost glad to run into Queen again - because despite Noelle's best efforts, you'd been unable to shake a sense of uneasiness, after freezing the Ambyu-lance. You hadn't so much as touched Noelle's actions, after that - not even her healing magic. You'd had Kris act every time - and had used Noelle only to spare.

But here's Queen - and as always, her humor tickles you. Eases your tension. By the time the three of you clamber quickly into her car in an effort to escape Berdly, you are finally starting to relax.

Kris's fingernails dig into the polyester car seats. You try your best to soothe them with a pulse of the soul and, when that doesn't seem to help, with antics behind the wheel of Queen's car which she has - for some insane reason - given to Kris.

"Potassium," Queen says after you dutifully catch the banana. Noelle laughs, and immediately slaps her hands over the cardboard box's makeshift mouth - which doesn't actually stifle the twinkle of her voice.

Kris's lip twitches. They very nearly smile. Their grip on the wheel eases. They twist it before you can stop them - and when they hit the tiny car darkner in front of you, it flies off harmlessly with a tiny squeak.

The sound sets Noelle off again - although it's hard to hear her jolly laugh beneath Queen's own boisterous guffaw.

And no one but you hears Kris's soft snort. Or sees the way their shoulders jerk.

Then, suddenly, the car comes to a screeching halt, barely managing not to hit one of the dozens of cars jammed up in front of you. Not a one of them is moving - this is stand-still traffic, as Queen calls it. There's no way to clear it, she says, but to go on and hit the crossing button on the other side of the road.

A job Queen gives to Kris - and the next thing you know, you're guiding them down into a dark, dirty alleyway.

And that's where you meet Spamton.

You are immediately suspicious of the small, broken darkner and the harsh, loud way he laughs. You are even more suspicious of his words - his deals - his suggestion that Kris is anything like him. When his face suddenly glitches and spasms beneath increasingly angry words and he turns to slam his fist into the dumpster, Kris backs away quickly.

You're right there with them.

"EHEHEHE!" Spamton cackles, turning once more to face you and tugging at the front of his shirt as if he has any chance of smoothing out what look to be permanent wrinkles. "SORRY ABOUT - CHAMP! JUST A LITTLE [Sign Up Now For Hours Of Content!]"

Queen could clear traffic on her own, you decide then - but as you turn Kris back the way you'd come, a burst of word-shaped magic flies past their ear. Kris winces and clasps their hand to their cheek - when they spin around to look at Spamton, they do so under their own power.

"H-HEY THERE [little sponge], WHAT'S THE [Friday night dinner rush!]? LET'S YOU AND - HAVE A LITTLE [chat now, just $4.99 an hour!]"

And then he pulls you into battle.

As you dodge and deal and try to put a quick end to your fight, you do your best to focus on Spamton's words. It's difficult to understand him, most of the time - you haven't a clue what kromer is, or what on earth he might mean by [[hyperlink blocked]], or exactly what the deal he's trying to strike entails.

What you do know is that he knows about you. That he's after you.

"HEY! HEY! HEY! I'VE NEVER SEEN A [HeartShapedObject] LIKE THAT BEFORE!" He says - and you'd swear he was looking right at you. It has been a long time since you've been known - and here, now, it worries you.

In the end, you take his deal - not that you know what you've actually agreed to. You hadn't wanted to, not really - but he hadn't left you much of a choice. It's enough to get him to leave, at least - although not before he grasps Kris's hand tight in his own and gives it a firm shake.

When he leaves, Kris looks down at their hand - and you share a moment of disgust at the glob of slime Spamton has left behind.

Kris quickly wipes it on their pants, and then you move forward. You intend to go and press the signal, return to Queen, and get on with your adventure - ideally without giving the little man from the garbage another thought. After all, you doubted he'd come looking for you if you just…didn't carry out the deal. Even if he did, by then you'd surely have your friends back - and the three of you could take him on easily.

Except, at the end of the alleyway, Kris comes to a stop. They lift their hand and lay it across their chest - once more just over you - and they exhale.

"What did he mean?" They murmur.

They aren't talking to you. They don't say anything else. Their arm falls and control returns to you.

But you understand, all the same.

The little trash man's words have gotten under their skin. They want to know what it is he has to offer. You doubt it's worth the time - but it's not like you're in a rush.

So you suppose you'll find Spamton again, after all.

It's a while before you have the chance. As soon as you clear traffic, you are once more abducted by Queen - twice more, in fact, because it isn't long after she releases you from her car that she cages the lot of you and whisks you off to her castle.

Where there is a lot to see, and even more to deal with - but you know what Kris wants. And when the opportunity presents itself, you take it.

It's a lot of back and forth, and by the time you slip the loaded disk into the strange behemoth in Queen's dungeon, you are almost disappointed by the lack of response. The empty construct doesn't so much as twitch - not even when Kris nudges, pokes, and strikes it.

"Tell me," Kris hisses - but there's no response. After a long, lingering moment, you carefully nudge them away.

You had tried, you think - and now it was time to get out of this musty, crumbling place and return to their friends.

Then, halfway through the next room, Spamton descends suddenly from the ceiling - very nearly crushing Kris as he does.

In his new body, Spamton stands much taller - and he is far more intimidating than he had been as a pint-sized man. The gun on his hand helps, of course - but it's his words that bother you the most.

"KRIS! I NEED YOU TO BE. BIG. WITH ME." He says. But -

"I JUST NEED. THAT LITTLE. [[SOUL]]. YOU HAVE."

It's you that he wants.

And the way he throws Kris around - the charging bullet he aims at their battered form - tells you that he'll kill Kris to take you.

You won't let that happen. You refuse to let that happen - and that old, familiar swell of DETERMINATION floods through you.

And in its depths, you feel something else. Something familiar. Friendly. Long since lost to time but here, now, to help you.

JUSTICE. The last remnants of a soul stolen from one of the children that had preceeded Frisk. Their power changes you - and you gain the ability to fight back. Spamton's bullets fall beneath your own and, slowly, steadily, Kris and their friends cut through his strings.

And as the last one falls, Kris pants on quick, desperate breaths. You can feel the bruises forming over their skin - the trickle of blood down the side of their face. One glance at Susie and Ralsei tells you that neither of them are much better off.

But they are alive. They are all alive.

You kept them safe.

The ghost of JUSTICE fades.

There is a strained silence between the members of your party as they walk back towards Cyber World proper. It's Susie who breaks it - who comes to a sudden stop, forcing the others to stop as well.

"Are we…seriously not going to talk about that? That was goddamn weird - puppets. Strings. Hands. What did any of that shit mean?"

Silence, again. Kris's heartbeat starts to race.

"I don't think it meant anything, Susie," Ralsei finally says - and his dismissal makes you uneasy. Kris, you realize, must share your sentiment - a shiver runs through them.

"I think it was just a…corrupted program," Ralsei continues. Susie doesn't seem convinced - and after a lingering second, she slips past Ralsei and comes to stand in front of Kris. Her gaze travels down their form, her muzzle twisting.

"Kris…you've got goosebumps," she says, and Kris lifts a hand to rub at their arm, "you…uh, you okay?"

No! You think, your own vehemence taking you off guard - and, just as surprising, the word explodes from Kris with just as much emphasis as you'd intended.

But they don't stop.

"I'm not okay!" They shout - at least as much as Kris can shout. There's still something strained to their voice. Gravelly. Hushed. But it echoes nonetheless - and you see equal looks of fear on your friends' faces. You don't know if Kris even notices - they burrow their own face into the palms of their hands, a wordless scream slipping through their fingers as their whole body grows tight.

You…don't know what to do.

"Kris?!" Ralsei asks then, hurrying over to stand at Kris's side. "Please, you're - you're shouting. Hey, I - here, Kris. Come here." He steps closer still, and he wraps his arms tight around Kris's body. He pulls them close, pressing his muzzle into their shoulder - and after a second or two, the sound of their voice trails off. Their shoulders shake. They turn their head, just a little, and press their nose against Ralsei's ear.

"There, there," Ralsei murmurs, a hand patting against Kris's head, "everything's going to be okay." His hold loosens, he steps away, and as he does Kris brings a hand up to their chest. Ralsei watches, his eyes wrinkling, and he adds, "just try not to think about what happened, okay? Try to think of…of things that make you happy. Nice things. Soft things. I'll be right next to you until you feel better, okay?"

Kris drops their chin towards their chest, whole body heaving on a sigh. Ralsei's paw finds their shoulder and squeezes. After a minute, Susie finally scoffs and crosses her arms behind her head.

"I guess Ralsei is right," she says, "all that probably didn't mean anything. Guy was kind of a quack, wasn't he?"

You think once more of the moment that Spamton had fallen. Of how dark his eyes had been - how lifeless his form. The meaning hadn't been lost on you, just as you know it hadn't been lost on Kris - Spamton was a puppet. Without his strings, he was nothing at all.

Except - he was okay, wasn't he? It'd been a scary moment but then he'd reverted back to his much smaller form and he'd been moving and talking and alert. Now, he seemed hale and healthy as a set of multi-colored glasses perched across Kris's nose.

He was fine. He was okay. He'd come back to himself.

Maybe it really hadn't meant anything. Maybe your friends were right.

You feel yourself start to ease - and in the same moment, Kris once more lifts their head. Their eyes skirt over Ralsei, then look towards Susie - and then, after a long, long minute, Kris opens their arms wide.

"Hell no, I'm not giving you a hug!" Susie exclaims with a snort - and you feel the rest of the tension break. With a huff, Susie barrels past you, knocking into Kris's shoulder playfully as she goes.

"Let's just get going!"

You couldn't agree more.