Chapter Text
Clover had Frisk cornered. Their back was against the wall and they could do nothing as Clover unleashed another bullet that ripped straight through Frisk and shattered their soul. Worst of all, they’d just saved.
[File 9 Loaded] As soon as time reverted, the bullet came again, killing them once more.
[File 9 Loaded] Frisk tried to cut the bullet, but it was too fast.
[File 9 Loaded] Frisk tried to sidestep, but they were too slow.
[File 9 Loaded] They went faster, but not enough.
[File 9 Loaded] Again.
[File 9 Loaded] Again.
[File 9 Loaded] The cowboy couldn’t have victory! Not after everything Frisk had overcome to reach this point!
[File 9 Loaded] Not after besting their nerves, and the true hero and the skeleton!
[File 9 Loaded] Not after everything they were supposed to face!
[File 9 Loaded] They should’ve already won before now!
[File 9 Loaded] As the bullet pierced their soul again, Frisk realized they only had one real option here.
RESET
With a groan, Frisk sat up. They were sitting in a field of golden flowers, just like the ones in the throne room. They were pulled back to that place and to Clover’s fury. But now that they had reset, Frisk was free from him!
In celebration, Frisk stood up tall. Then, they heard a voice echoing through their head.
“It’s disappointing that we have been forced to abandon the absolute. However, I do wonder what we can now accomplish with that accursed cowboy back in his grave.”
Frisk smiled brightly. “With him out of the way, I can take a break and have some fun.”
They walked forward to a simple grass patch with one smirking, sunlit flower. Its eyes were sparkling as it spoke. “I– I can’t believe Clover actually did it…”
Frisk raised their stick for an attack, but Flowey merely popped into the ground, just as Toriel entered the room. She greeted Frisk and told them to follow her, then shortly left.
As Frisk went to follow Toriel, they heard a voice from behind them. “Everyone else may have forgotten, but I haven’t. I’ll make sure this adventure is every bit as miserable as you deserve.”
When Frisk looked back, Flowey was gone again. They shrugged and walked forward to the nearby save point. They touched it, but no save menu popped up; merely its healing effects. Frisk’s eyes widened and they interacted again, but there was no save menu.
Horror welled up in Frisk’s soul as they reached out to their save file, but it was so far away. It was barely even there at all. What was going on?! They checked their various other menus, but none gave enough information for Frisk to understand.
From nearby, just out of sight, Flowey saw Frisk’s expression and decided to see what he could of the timeline. As he checked his menus, he realized that the currently dominant file was not File 0 or File 9, Chara and Frisk’s files respectively. Instead, it was File 8, a file that shouldn’t exist at all.
It was between Flowey’s File 7 and Frisk’s File 9, and no one had taken the file from Flowey besides Frisk. The file was never created. But if it had existed, then wouldn’t it belong to…?
Flowey had something to check at the castle.
no.
No.
NO!
After finally returning to the land of the living, after all his pain under that blossoming tree, after revisiting it in that accursed elevator and then fighting the world in that dingy laboratory, Shamrock refused to let this happen.
The entire world faded to black around Shamrock. Determination was coursing through the very essence of the world, bringing it back to a previous form, one where Shamrock didn’t exist. One where he was just a corpse laying in a coffin.
But as the world faded away, that force weakened. It became tangible and within reach. Shamrock saw his opportunity, running forward closer and closer to that force, eventually finding its core in the form of a four-pointed golden star.
Life would not be taken from Shamrock again. He would persist.
There were hands and vines sprouting the ground, reaching up and touching the star, but they were weak. Shamrock stretched out and snatched the star himself, just as the world finished fading away. [File 8 Saved]
To his shock, though he was in complete darkness, Shamrock could feel stone beneath himself. He was laying down, and that meant he had a body. With this realization, Shamrock twitched his fingers, and when that was successful, he reached his arms up and pushed away the stone that was atop him.
As Shamrock sat up in his coffin, as he found the strength to stand and step out of his own grave, it sank into the core of Shamrock’s being. He was still alive! Not even fate could rip life away from him!
Shamrock walked through the familiar room. There was no sand blob to guide him this time, but aside from that, this was like his prior awakening. He walked past the coffins and up the stairs, to a familiar doorway, then glanced inside. While he saw a field of sickeningly golden flowers, he also saw the king standing in the center of that field, his back to the door.
“Asgore?”
The king turned around, smiling. “Yes, what can I do for–?” His eyes widened with shock and horror.
“Howdy,” Shamrock sheepishly replied.
“Another human? I wasn’t aware a seventh had fallen down…” Asgore muttered. “Wait a moment… You appear exactly the same as the last human who fell, the one named Clover. Is this another dream?”
“You’re not dreaming,” Shamrock replied. “I’m here, but call me Shamrock.”
Asgore nodded. “Well then Shamrock, are you a spirit of some sort, back here to haunt me for my crimes? I hear you had a strong sense of justice.”
“No, I’m alive,” Shamrock insisted.
“Then, your soul…” Asgore stole a glance back towards the barrier.
“That soul is at your barrier. I have nothing to do with it anymore,” Shamrock declared. “If you doubt me, go check there.”
“I will. Please, follow me.” Asgore led Shamrock past the throne room, into a neverending room that pulsed white and black. The human had to fight back his memories at the sight — a fight he was losing.
“I suppose you have not seen this before,” Asgore stated.
His next words merged with those same words in Shamrock’s memories. “This is the barrier. This is what keeps us trapped underground.”
“I feel it is important I show you something,” the memory continued.
“Allow me to check something,” the present Asgore continued.
Asgore brought seven soul containers out from the ground, five six of which had souls inside them. There was one addition since the time of Shamrock’s memory: a yellow soul now sitting in a container.
“Yes, your soul is still right there… Let me check one more thing.” Asgore turned to Shamrock and summoned his trident, then turned it blue. “Stand very still, and I should be able to use this to feel your soul.”
Shamrock grit his teeth. “Why should I let you stick your weapon into my body?!”
“Because I must be certain of whether or not you have a soul within you.”
“Still no. You already have my soul, is that not enough proof for you?!” Shamrock demanded. “We’re done here.” He turned his back to the king and took a step away.
“Please! If I confirm that you truly have no human soul, I will send out a decree that you are not to be attacked by anyone while you are in my kingdom,” Asgore promised.
Shamrock turned around, blinking in disbelief. “So no more being attacked by everything and everyone?”
Asgore nodded. “That pain will be a memory.”
Shamrock stepped forward. There was a small spark of life in his core. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you so much, Shamrock. This shouldn’t hurt at all.”
Asgore thrust his blue trident forward. Shamrock had to squeeze his eyes shut as the weapon pierced his chest… but true to Asgore’s word, there was no pain, just a strange tingling feeling. Then, Asgore pulled his trident back.
"For a moment I thought I sensed some sort of presence inside you, but true to your word, you have no soul. I've never seen any human without one before…”
“And have you known any humans that came back from the dead?” Shamrock asked.
“No, not until today,” Asgore admitted.
“Then don’t act like an expert on the topic,” the cowboy spat.
“My apologies. Now, I will go make that decree, then I will return here. In the meantime, you are welcome to explore to your heart’s content, but I cannot guarantee your safety until my decree is made.”
The king walked back towards the throne room.
“Wait!” Shamrock’s eyes widened and cried out. “I need to tell you one more thing before you go.”
Asgore stopped and turned back to Shamrock. “Yes, what is it?”
“When you took my body to its coffin, I heard your words, the song you were humming, and that story about your children. I wanted to say, you were my one respite from my pain as death tried to take hold of me. Thank you for that, for laying me to rest, and for mourning me.”
“Do you… not hate me?” Asgore raised his eyebrows. “I hear that you came to find the last five humans who fell, the same children who I murdered. I’m told you had a strong sense of justice, so why not condemn me? Or at last despise me?”
“I don’t care about that anymore. I just care that you eased my pain and that you cared about my life.”
Asgore smiled sadly. “I see… Well, goodbye again.”
As the king walked away, Shamrock sighed and leaned against the wall. A smile crept over his face. Finally, Shamrock was alive and his pain was ending.
“No way… Is that you, Clover?!”
That voice! Shamrock went rigid and slowly turned his head to face the speaker.
Flowey’s lipless mouth was spread wide. “It is, isn’t it! I almost don’t recognize you without your hat! You know, you– OW!”
Shamrock’s smoking toy gun was pointed at Flowey.
“Sheesh, I thought you liked me! Weren’t we best friends and stuff?!” Flowey winced in pain and used a vine to poke the empty spot where his left eye had been.
“I remember what you did on that rooftop,” Shamrock replied.
Flowey’s right eye widened. “Oh, well that’s sudden. But don’t you remember how we worked together against Frisk?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Shamrock sneered.
“Back in the last timeline, the other human who fell down a little before you came back to life!” Flowey insisted.
“Everyone keeps saying that, but I’ve never met another human underground!” Shamrock screamed.
Flowey wore a trembling smile. “Come on, Clover. Don’t you–?”
The cowboy shot again, but this time Flowey dodged it.
“My name is Shamrock.”
Flowey grit his teeth and lengthened his stem until he was eye to eye with Shamrock. “You know what? I was playing nice and hoping we could still be friends, but now I see you’re not interested. Do you want another repeat of that rooftop scene?”
Shamrock trembled and slowly shook his head. He couldn’t muster up a word.
“Good. Then listen well: Don’t you dare play dumb with me! And if you’re telling the truth, then if you do meet that other human, Frisk, shoot them, shoot them dead the instant you lay eyes on them!” Flowey insisted, a tear in the corner of his eye. “I’m warning you, your life is in greater danger than you can imagine. They may even rip away that save file you’ve so carefully stolen from them.”
The soulless human stood petrified.
Flowey’s face contorted into something demonic, with eyes black as void. “You aren’t even listening to me anymore, are you? LISTEN TO ME!”
Shamrock couldn’t take it. Damning the consequences, he fled, sprinting away from the barrier and out of the throne room as fast as his legs could take him.
The soulless cowboy leaned against the wall and saw a four-pointed golden star, just like the one he’d snatched when the world faded away, and the ones Flowey gave him on his journey. Curious, he reached out to the star.
It was a menu, but not with the limited control Flowey gave him. It was the real thing he’d only seen in one timeline, after he’d conquered Flowey.
[File 8 Saved] So it was true, Clover had control not only over his own fate, but had wretched all control from Flowey’s cruel vines! No longer subject to the whims of a plant, with this determination he would never be enslaved again!
With his wave of terror relieved, Shamrock chuckled, then fully cackled. He wiped away his tears and kept walking, further from the throne room and further from his coffin. With this new control, Shamrock would never have to worry about Flowey or about death ever again. And with that declaration, he could finally explore the underground as a free man!
He passed through a golden hall, its oppressive air of justice unable to dampen Shamrock’s spirits, then arrived at a balcony overlooking New Home, in all of its untouched grayscale glory. That city was the most beautiful thing he had ever set his eyes on.
Shamrock strolled down the city streets, taking in the sights with all the time in the world. Some stray monsters seemed wary of him, but most were too busy watching the king’s declaration. In fact, following the flow of the city, Shamrock had wound up in front of the stage where Asgore was giving that declaration.
“Yes, I understand the strangeness of the situation,” Asgore called out from on-stage, “But I urge you to believe me. We have nothing to gain by attacking this human, and I gave him my word, so from this moment onwards, any attacks against the human known as Shamrock will be considered a crime, just as they would be against a monster.”
“Good job keeping your promise!” Shamrock called out.
Asgore’s eyes widened and he surveyed the onlookers. “Shamrock, are you in the crowd? If so, will you please come up here so everyone can see your face? Then they will be certain who I am referring to.”
Shamrock pushed his way through the crowd and climbed onstage next to the king.
“Thank you.” Asgore turned back towards the camera. “Citizens, this is Shamrock. Please be certain to tell your acquaintances about this declaration so there are no accidental attacks. And that concludes my declaration, unless you have something you’d like to say, Shamrock?”
The soulless stepped over to the camera and unholstered his weapon. “I have a gun, and I’m not afraid of using it in self-defense. Attacking me is at your own risk.”
The audience erupted into murmuring. Shamrock overheard whispers such as “Can he do that?”, “He’s so scary!” and “Are we in America?!”
Asgore gently pulled Shamrock back and stepped in front of him. “I apologize for that outburst. Rest assured, he only intends to defend himself against others who attack him first. If he does attack others for no good reason, then I will permit the Royal Guard to take him into captivity, though no citizens are to take action themselves. Am I clear?”
The audience murmured affirmatively.
“Thank you. Now, without further ado, I turn the television back to your regularly scheduled MTT programs.”
Asgore patted Shamrock on the shoulder one last time, then walked off the stage as the audience roared with applause for their beloved king.
Shamrock was about to follow, only for the stage to go pitch-black.
“Asgore said it was time for MTT to resume, right? Yes, of course he did! So don’t leave, your next MTT production is happening right here, right now, and you have a front row seat!”
The stage was illuminated by two spotlights, one was on Shamrock, who was now inexplicably sitting on a plush chair. The other spotlight shone onto another plush chair opposite him, with a rectangular robot sitting on it.
“Welcome one, welcome all, to the pilot episode of our fabulous new series: Shamrock, the Soulless Human!”
The audience erupted into a cheer.
“Yes, yes, your support means so much!” Mettaton snapped his fingers and a microphone dropped from above, pointed right at Shamrock. “Now, Shamrock, we’re starting with an interview, so how are you feeling today?”
Shamrock sneered. “I’m not gonna sit here as an attraction on your show for no reason, you know. I’ve got other things to do.”
“Why of course! Someone draft me a contract.” A paper airplane flew in from offstage and Mettaton grabbed it, then unfolded it. “Ah yes, this is perfect! Here you go.”
Shamrock stood up and took the contract. It officially made him an employee, subject to a few rules constant to anyone in the company. Additionally, it declared that in return for his full appearance in the “hit new series, Shamrock, the Soulless Human” that he would be entitled to receive 30% of the show’s profits, along with full room and board at the MTT Resort.
“This isn’t nearly enough compensation,” Shamrock argued.
“Ah, of course!” Mettaton exclaimed. He crossed out the “30%” and replaced it with “60%”, then handed the pen to Shamrock. “You can even have the employee discount back at the MTT Resort!”
That did seem quite a bit better, so Shamrock signed.
“Fabulous! Then let us commence with the interview: How is it that you don’t have a soul?” Mettaton asked, pointing a microphone right up in Shamrock’s face.
He pushed the mic to a more reasonable distance. “It left me behind and I decided I could do without it.”
“I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it’s very interesting! Next question: Are you excited to work with MTT? I’m a very big fan of humans, so I’m excited to work with you!”
“Well, I get to be on TV and… wait, is everyone watching this?” Shamrock asked.
“Most people probably, yes,” Mettaton answered. “This is a very big broadcast.”
Shamrock walked straight to the camera until all it picked up was his face. “Ceroba, Martlet, Starlo, if you’re seeing this, don’t bother coming to see me. That’s a warning. Dalv, if you see this, come find me as soon as you can.”
“Oh, I think I’ve heard those names before,” Mettaton noted. “Weren’t they your friends? Are you on bad terms now?”
“They killed me,” Shamrock muttered. “Them and my traitorous soul.”
The audience gasped. Mettaton rolled over to Shamrock. “My goodness, that’s not the story we’ve all been told! Would you care to elaborate?”
“No.”
“I see. That technically answers my question… So, tell us what it’s like on the surface! Or how it feels to be a human being!”
“No.”
“And that technically is just rude! But since we value your cooperation so highly, allow me to pull up another question you think is suited for you. What would you like to discuss? There’s so much we could talk about!”
“No. This interview is over.” Shamrock started walking offstage.
The lights on Mettaton’s face blinked between red and yellow a few times. Then, he wheeled over to Shamrock and hoisted the cowboy into his arms. “You heard the human, this series’ pilot is over! Stay tuned for the next episode of Shamrock, the Soulless Human!”
Mettaton wheeled away, ignoring Shamrock’s protests about how this violated his personal space.
“Do you really hate me th– that much?” Toriel asked, just as she turned to dust.
Her soul hung in the air, until Frisk sliced again, cutting the heart straight down the middle. As its pieces shattered and faded away, Frisk pressed onwards, a dusty toy knife in hand.
They stumbled onto a patch of grass with the Underground’s second ray of sunlight. Flowey popped out in front of them, though for some reason he was missing his left eye. “Just as I thought, you haven’t changed a bit! Even without your precious little save file, you’re every bit a demon!”
“This is for safety,” Frisk insisted. “If one death means I’m done for good, I have to have the stats to make sure I never have that death.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Flowey muttered. “Either way, I made sure you won’t have nearly as much fun in Snowdin. You’re welcome!”
With that, Flowey popped back into the ground. Curious, Frisk pressed onwards, out of the Ruins.
Alone once again, Flowey popped back up. “We never made a plan for when Frisk does reset, but if we did, this is about what it would look like, right Clover? Right?”
Flowey looked to his side, half-expecting to see the human right next to him, but there was no one there.
“That walking corpse in New Home, that’s not really you, Clover, is it? No, you’re that little yellow soul back at the barrier. I wonder, if you could sense what was happening last time around, can you see what I’m doing?”
Flowey shook his head.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m just making sure the world doesn't end since I’m, well, part of the world.”
The flower looked up at the ray of sunlight.
“Chara? Would you be proud of this?”
Meanwhile, outside, Frisk had just fallen for Sans’ “whoopie-cushion-in-the-hand” prank, though their face was entirely unexpressive.
“that's, uh. your cue to laugh.” As Sans stared at Frisk’s face, his eyes widened and he involuntarily stepped back.
“you killed me.”
Out of sheer shock, Sans’ smile fell. “that means you killed all of them too, huh? but, uh, it looks like you won’t do it again. for some reason.”
Frisk blankly stared at the skeleton.
“huh, are you disappointed that i don’t know why? sorry. i’m not a mind reader.” Sans had put back on his perpetual smile. “welp, if you aren’t gonna do it again, then you’re fine by me…”
Sans’ eyes went pitch black. “Just as long as nothing happens to my brother.” And the skeleton disappeared.
Frisk walked past the bridge and next to the conveniently shaped lamp. At that moment, another skeleton walked in.
“OOH, DO I SEE SOMEONE OVER THERE? HELLO NEW PERSON, IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”
The skeleton ran over to Frisk.
“OH BOY! ARE YOU A HUMAN? OH BOY, I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR A HUMAN, BUT UH, I’M NOT SURE I CAN REALLY CAPTURE YOU…”
“What does that mean?” Chara wondered aloud.
“OH WELL. IT IS STILL MY JOB TO PROVIDE YOU WITH PUZZLES AND JAPES! I’M TOLD HUMANS LOVE THOSE THINGS ANYWAY! I WILL GO AND GET THOSE READY RIGHT NOW!”
With that said, Papyrus spun away, out of sight, leaving Frisk alone with their questions and with the disembodied voice stuck in their head. They pressed on into Snowdin and grabbed their next weapon from the dimensional box, the tough glove. With this in hand, they looked for this area’s first enemy.
Glancing around, Frisk saw Snowdrake and smirked. They charged towards him, boxing glove in hand.
“Oh, it’s a human. Ice to meet you, heh!” Snowdrake said.
Frisk raised an eyebrow and pressed further.
“Huh? Why am I not attacking you? Do you want me to attack you?”
“Yes,” Frisk replied.
Snowdrake blinked. “Oh, sorry I would’ve but Asgore sent out a declaration that you’re not supposed to be attacked. I’ve been hearing about it all morning!”
That was certainly strange. Frisk pressed onto the next room and saw Ice Cap there. They charged towards it and asked, “Can you attack me?”
“Uh, no. I mean, I would attack… but the king said nobody should attack you. You do look different from how you did on TV, but a flower just came by and assured me that you’re still the same person. So how about instead of fighting, you just look at my awesome hat!”
Frisk groaned and walked away.
“Did you notice what Ice Cap said? This is Flowey’s doing,” Chara pointed out.
Oh yeah, that was true. Jerk.
Well, actually, Frisk supposed this would make their trek even easier and safer if they weren’t attacked by people, so it wasn’t a total loss.
It wasn’t like they could do anything about it, so Frisk pressed on further into Snowdin.
Shamrock found himself in his hotel room at MTT resort, and while it was nice to have somewhere he could call his own, his personal quiet space where people wouldn’t bother him…
“Hello!” Mettaton shouted, bursting through the door. “It’s time for our next episode of Shamrock, the Soulless Human and we need you there! Without you we really don’t have a show.”
“Already?!” Shamrock demanded.
“Of course, darling! You have to get used to the tight schedule of a star!”
“No. I did my episode for today and now I’m going to rest in my room,” Shamrock insisted.
Mettaton wagged his finger. “Nuh-uh-uh! Let’s review the terms of your contract!” He pulled out the contract and handed it to Shamrock.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shamrock sneered. “It just says–”
“No no no, look at the fine print, darling.” Mettaton held up a magnifying glass to the contract, revealing miniscule text.
Shamrock read aloud, “You agree to appear promptly on Shamrock, the Soulless Human or any assigned project at any time when Mettaton demands it.”
“I have something similar in my contract, actually,” Mettaton noted. “We all must bow to the whims of Mettaton…”
The soulless human scratched his hair and tilted his head as he stared at his boss.
“Anyway that all boils down to ‘You’re coming to the show right now.’”
“I wasn’t ever told this. Give me some time here,” Shamrock demanded.
Mettaton’s screen flashed rapidly between red and yellow. “You know, I like you. While you’re incredibly uncooperative, I can’t help but be endeared by your guts! And you even have real guts since you’re a human made out of flesh and stuff. So sure, meet me on the set south and west of here in fifteen minutes. Until then, you’re free to do whatever.”
With that sorted out, the robot rolled out of the room, leaving Shamrock alone once again.
He groaned and lied down on the bed, but after that encounter, the human was feeling restless. So, he got up, went out of his room, and walked around the MTT resort. He took a quick stop at a golden star. [File 8 Saved]
Feeling reassured, he took another look around and caught sight of a shop labelled as the “MTT-Brand Burger Emporium.” Thinking back to his discount, the human walked over to it.
“What do you sell here?” Shamrock asked.
An ugly monster forced a smile. “Great… A customer! Menu’s up there.”
Shamrock read the board above the cashier. Ooh, the idea of taking out his annoyances by stabbing a Mettaton steak was very appealing. “Can I have the steak in the shape of Mettaton’s Face?”
“Why do we even have that product…?” the cashier muttered under his breath.
“Huh?”
“Heh heh, it’s nothing!” the cashier assured him. “That’ll be 500G!”
“Mettaton said I get an employee discount, so what is it after that?” Shamrock asked.
The cashier looked at Shamrock up and down. “I guess I did hear him talking about a new human hire… That’ll be 499G!”
Shamrock coughed in shock. “Wait, what?!”
“Yes, Mettaton’s ‘gratuitous’ employee discount is 1G,” the cashier clarified. “Per transaction, not per item.”
The human slit his eyes. “That… jerk.”
“I’d insult him with you, but it’s against company policy and I don’t want to get fired. Hold on, if you’re an employee, don’t you have to follow company policy?”
“...I what?” Suddenly, his eyes widened. “What happened to free speech?! The first amendment?!"
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, and it’s not my problem if you get fired. If you aren’t going to buy anything, please go away.”
Fine, this place sucked anyway. “Is there somewhere I can get things at a more reasonable price?”
“There’s a shop run by some chicks in an alleyway by here. It’s cheap because they literally sell garbage, but hey it’s not like I care what you do.”
Shamrock nodded and walked out of the restaurant, then out of the entire building. He looked back to the resort and suddenly realized that this place used to be UG Apartments. It was mostly the same now, but Mettaton’s brand was plastered on everything. Eh, it wasn’t like he cared much about the place before anyway, even when he did have a soul.
The soulless human knew quite well what was in the alley to the east of the building, after all he’d visited it in almost every route since his path mysteriously changed. So, he decided the shop had to be in the alleyway to the west… which ended in just a blank wall. Okay, maybe it was the east one after all. It had probably changed just like the apartment-now-resort.
He walked down there and found, weirdly enough, a dumpster shop, blocking the entire alley.
“Oh my gawd, Bratty! It’s, like, a customer!” a cat monster exclaimed.
“You’re sooo right, Catty! So, like, customer, what do you wanna buy?” an alligator monster asked.
Shamrock shrugged.
“We’ve got some, like, junk food. And some cowboy stuff that totes matches your style!” Catty yelled.
Meanwhile, Bratty was digging through their wares and piling them on the table. There was some tasty-looking garbage, a hat, a gun–
“Those are mine.” Shamrock pointed at the hat and gun.
“Oh so you, like, wanna buy them?” Bratty asked.
“No. I’m not paying for those. They. Are. Mine!” Shamrock’s rats-nest of hair fell forward, casting a deep shadow over his face. A fierce golden light from one eye pierced that shadow.
Catty grabbed the items and started pulling them back away from Shamrock. “You can’t just, like, steal our stuff!”
He fired his weapon at the monster.
Catty screamed and looked down at the dust spilling out from her chest.
Bratty started hyperventilating. “Oh my gawd oh my gawd. We need to get outta here! Now!” She grabbed Catty by the arm and dragged her away.
Once the two thieves had completely left the scene, Shamrock jumped over the counter. He quickly found his hat and gun, which seemed a bit worse for wear but were still priceless.
He donned his hat with a smile, then loaded and holstered his gun. He was complete again.
Looking back at the pile, Shamrock realized that if these were thieves, those other items were likely also stolen. Moreover, he decided that he wanted them. For the first time, Shamrock thanked his soul for leaving, because that meant he would never feel guilt for this decision.
Digging through the pile of trash, Shamrock ate some junk food, which tasted just as good as he expected. He stuffed a few more things of junk food into his satchel, and as he did he noticed something shining at the bottom of the pile.
Shamrock dug down and found a key. Deciding might end up being useful, he stuffed it into his bag. Next to it was a trash can lid, and after remembering how useful one of these was in his battles with Axis, Shamrock also stuffed the lid into his bag, just in case.
Beyond that, there was nothing of much interest, so Shamrock got back up and was about to leave when his eyes caught on a staircase hidden in the alleyway’s corner…
No. He refused to go up there; too many memories and far too much pain. He couldn’t live through that again, and he didn’t even have time to get lost in flashbacks. He had a show to go to.
As the adrenaline left Shamrock and frustration remained, he decided it would be best for him to distract himself by doing that show with Mettaton. It had been about fifteen minutes anyway, so he climbed back over the counter and walked back, past the resort, down some stairs, and headed west, eventually finding himself in a pitch-black room.
Shamrock couldn’t recall any rooms this dark before. Something was wrong here…
A spotlight suddenly shined down on him. “Wait, the show’s starting already?!” the cowboy explained.
A second spotlight shone, revealing Mettaton high upon a tower, wearing a baby blue dress. “Oh Shamrock! Please rescue me from all the way up here!”
“And just how am I supposed to do that?” Shamrock called out.
Yet another spotlight shone, revealing a green lizard with a cowboy hat and a blue bandana. “You must defeat me, Vengeful Virgil!”
“Yes, do that!” Mettaton explained, “With that new hat, you must be a cowboy, just like I thought! That means the two of you should settle it with a cowboy duel!”
Vengeful Virgil turned around to face Mettaton. “Uh, ‘lass’, I’m pretty sure it’s called a dual.”
“Definitely called a dual,” Shamrock added.
“Well I suppose the guy from the Wild East and the actual human would be the authorities on the topic…” Mettaton muttered. “Well, have your ‘dual’ now.”
“Do I need some, uh, non-damaging bullets?” Shamrock whispered. “I don’t wanna kill ya and get fired.”
Virgil whispered back, “Nah, just try to barely miss your shot.”
Shamrock nodded, then put on a showman voice. “Ten paces, got it?”
“Of course! You have no chance, human.”
The two turned around and took ten rhythmic paces. There was the sound of western-like wind howling and about a dozen tumbleweeds rolled past the duo.
At the first possible moment, Shamrock spun on his heels and shot towards Virgil. Though the shot flew over his shoulder, Virgil clutched his chest and started coughing.
“You’re a good shot, human,” Virgil spat. “Killing another monster, just like the other humans, huh?” He drew his gun, aimed it, and pulled the trigger.
The bullet soared towards Shamrock… and straight into his chest. Vengeful Virgil dropped his gun and cupped his hand over his mouth in shock.
“I’m so sorry, it was an accident. Oh angel…” Virgil moaned.
Shamrock bit his lip and glared at his attacker.
“Psst!” Mettaton shouted. “When you get shot you’re supposed to fall on the ground!”
With a groan, Shamrock fell to the ground.
Vengeful Virgil walked over to Shamrock. He put on his showman voice, though it was now extremely shaky. “It looks like I bested you in a gunfight, so now is my chance to finish you and take your soul to Asgore!”
Mettaton dropped down from the tower, directly onto Virgil, flattening him on the ground. “Thank you, Shamrock. By distracting that villain you let me free myself! Oh, and Virgil, you must not have known, but Shamrock doesn’t have a soul, and Asgore himself said we can’t hurt him because of that. It’s okay though, we all make mistakes sometimes!”
Shamrock slowly rose to his feet. “The episode’s basically over, right?”
“Oh yes, I think we wrapped up this episode’s plot,” Mettaton replied.
“Great, so what compensation do I get for actually getting shot?”
“Sorry again,” Virgil muttered from below Mettaton’s wheel.
“It’s all in your contract!” the robot exclaimed. He pulled out said contract and handed it to Shamrock.
The human scanned the whole paper. “I don’t see anything about it here.”
“Well that’s because you haven’t read the finer print. Let’s see if this helps!” Mettaton revealed a microscope and put the contract atop it.
Shamrock read aloud the newly revealed terms. “You agree to all that this job will make happen to you (accidental in nature or otherwise), including pain, torture, murder, death, etc, etc, etc.”
“Exactly, which means absolutely no compensation for getting shot!” Mettaton declared. “Isn’t that wonderful!” He started throwing confetti around the set.
“What does ‘or otherwise’ mean here?!” Shamrock demanded.
Mettaton continued throwing confetti. “Well darling, if it’s not an accident, that would be referring to me purposefully hurting you, like with a gun or a chainsaw or something like that.”
Virgil spoke up. “But uh, won’t the royal guard come and arrest you for doing that, like what Asgore said?”
“Well it’s in a contract, which means Shamrock legally agreed to it, so no. They can’t do anything about it, darling.”
“This is absurd!” Shamrock protested. “I never agreed to let you hurt or kill me, or to let you dictate my life! Even your benefits are terrible, like what’s even the point of getting an ‘employee discount’ if it barely saves anything?!”
“Well technically, yes, you agreed to all of those things. I forgot about the employee discount though, don’t worry I can get you a better one than that, darling,” Mettaton replied.
“Not the main point!” Shamrock shouted. “And why should I trust you? In fact, why should I be trusting anyone right now?! I’m burning this contract to free myself.”
Mettaton snatched the contract from Shamrock, then turned his wheel into a rocket and flew into the air. Virgil screamed from below him.
“Nuh-uh-uh, darling! You signed this and I’m not letting you off that easily.”
“I’m getting that contract, no matter what it takes,” Shamrock yelled. “And I’m not listening to your orders anymore.”
“I guess that means I’ll have to hide your contract over at Alphys’ laboratory. Oh, and even if you aren’t listening to me, I’m not going to stop recording episodes with you until this contract is gone!”
The cowboy brandished his revolver. “If you try anything funny, I’ll make good on my threat from TV.”
Mettaton sighed. “Please refrain from shooting my employees, they didn’t set the terms of your (or their own) contract. But I did set the terms so shoot me all you want! Now cut the cameras, we’re done with this until the next episode!”
With that said, the TV star flew off, leaving Shamrock and Virgil alone.
“Good luck, kid,” Virgil weakly muttered. He was scorched, his scales black, but he tried to push his way to his feet.
“Thanks, Vergil. Also, I’ve been meaning to ask…” Shamrock pointed to just off the set, where a dozen dunebuds were sitting. “Why do we have all of them here? I thought they’d appear in the episode, but they didn’t.”
“Oh them,” Virgil answered. “Mettaton just brought them in for those tumbleweeds. They don’t even have a contract, he just asked them nicely to help him.”
One of the Dunebuds wiggled forward and leaped at Shamrock, bringing him to the ground.
“Fwend~!” she called out.
A spark of warmth lit in Shamrock’s core. “I’m going on an adventure. Would you like to come with me?”
“Bwub-yuh~” she exclaimed, a bright smile on her face.
Shamrock patted her head. “Then follow me.” He walked deeper into Hotland, Dunebud wiggling right alongside him as he walked into a dark doorway.
Frisk stood in front of Doggo’s sentry station, waving their arms. “Hey, do you see me?!”
Doggo squinted. “Yep, I see you. Do you need something?”
“I’m a dangerous human, and as a royal guard it’s your job to capture me!”
Doggo shook his head. “The other guards told me that Asgore had this whole declaration about not attacking the human that’s underground. Sorry kid, no capturing today.”
Frisk slumped and walked away. They went over to the snowman and snatched a piece from it before it had a chance to say a word. Then, Frisk continued on their way to Papyrus’ invisible maze.
Papyrus and Sans stood on the other side of the maze. “Nyeh heh heh! Before you stands an invisible maze, and–”
Frisk kept walking, smirking at Papyrus as they did so.
“Wait! Human! You don’t have the orb which stops you from just… doing that…” Papyrus slumped as Frisk walked past them.
Frisk kept going without interruption until they found the twin guard stations of Dogamy and Dogressa. The couple was sitting just outside their stations, slobbering over each other.
“Hey, don’t I smell like a dangerous human?” Frisk asked.
The two dogs stopped and sniffed. “Hmm, yeah, I guess you do,” Dogamy confirmed.
“We’d attack except that Asgore said not to attack the human who just appeared,” Dogressa added.
“That’s lucky for you, and lucky for us we can get back to our date,” Dogamy finished. Then, they went back to slobbering on each other.
Frisk sighed and continued, past Papyrus’ old, repetitive puzzles, and to the next guard station. Lesser Dog was napping in front of his post, head half-buried in the snow.
Frisk pulled out their stick and started poking the dog. “Hey, wake up. Come on. I’m a human. You’re a guard. Attack.”
The dog didn’t stir.
“Maybe we could just… play fetch then? Or something?” Frisk muttered.
Lesser Dog kept snoring.
Chara laughed so loudly, Frisk hoped it might wake up Lesser Dog… before realizing it was only in their head. “Goodness, you’re pathetic,” Chara sneered.
Frisk sighed and kept going, past more puzzles and japes from Papyrus, past more of Sans’ terrible jokes, and when Frisk passed Greater Dog playing in the snow, they didn’t even bother talking to him.
Finally, Frisk reached the bridge before Snowdin Town. The last chance for something exciting to happen in this fun-forsaken region of the underground.
Papyrus and Sans were on the other side of the bridge, and for the first time this run, Papyrus looked very satisfied with himself.
“HUMAN, YOU’VE FINALLY ARRIVED,” Papyrus proclaimed. “THIS IS YOUR FINAL AND MOST DANGEROUS CHALLENGE! BEHOLD, THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERRORS!”
A spike ball tethered by a chain, two glistening silver spears, an oil drum fire pit, a cannon, and a dog dangling from a rope all appeared. Frisk fought back the urge to yawn at this familiar threat, always retracted.
“WHEN I SAY THE WORD, THE GAUNTLET WILL ACTIVATE AND ONLY THE TINIEST CHANCE OF VICTORY WILL REMAIN!”
Papyrus turned away from Frisk for a moment. “AT FIRST I THOUGHT THIS MIGHT BE TOO… INTENSE FOR YOU. LIKE IT WOULD BE TOO EASY TO CAPTURE YOU THIS WAY…”
Papyrus turned back towards Frisk. “BUT SINCE THEN, MY GOOD FRIEND ASSURED ME THAT YOU WOULD GREATLY ENJOY THIS PUZZLE! IT WOULD BE YOUR FAVORITE EVEN! WELP, ARE YOU READY FOR THE GAUNTLET!?”
Chara’s eyes widened. “Wait, they’re actually doing it this time?!”
Frisk shouted the words, “I’m ready.”
“OH BOY! HERE IT COMES! ‘THE WORD’.”
The gauntlet started, cannons fired, spikes swung, and blades cut through the empty air as each part moved violently up and down. Frisk could hardly contain their excitement.
They rushed forward, where the spike ball was swinging like a pendulum. They waited for it to move all the way towards them, then chased after it, and as it reached its apex, Frisk slid under the ball and to the next weapon. A spear came down right on top of Frisk, who rolled to the side and barely dodged. They picked themself up and barely avoided the spear striking again, then sprinted forward. A second spear tried to skewer Frisk, but they ran past before it had the chance.
In front of Frisk was now the oil drum, which was turned on its side and shooting fire straight towards them. Frisk jumped onto the rope next to the bridge and crept forward on it like a tightrope until they’d passed the oil drum.
“Watch out!” Chara cried.
Frisk looked to their right and noticed a cannonball flying towards them. They jumped back to the bridge and pressed themself to the ground, letting the cannonball fly over them. Then, Frisk picked themself back up and pressed forward to the last obstacle, a dog hanging from a rope right in their path.
The dog barked and Frisk had to stagger back. They took a deep breath, then drew their toy knife and swung it forward, right at the dog. The dog then jumped out of the rope and off of the bridge, into the pit below.
Frisk stared for a moment, then shook their head to clear their thoughts and took their final few steps off of the bridge, reaching where Papyrus and Sans stood. They then took a bow.
“WOWIE, THAT WAS GREAT! I’M GLAD YOU HAD SO MUCH FUN! NEXT TIME THOUGH, I’LL CAPTURE YOU FOR SURE. NYEH HEH HEH!”
Papyrus ran off, leaving Sans and Frisk alone. Sans gave Frisk a glare, but didn’t say anything.
Frisk just laughed. “That was awesome!”
Shamrock and Dunebud couldn’t see far in this place. The heat wasn’t as oppressive here as it was in the rest of Hotland, but it was also much darker here. Shamrock could hardly see the ground he stood upon and he walked further and further into the darkness.
But… Why was each step harder than the last? It was like he couldn’t pick up his own feet!
Shamrock pushed forward, determined to get through here, but then he heard a wail behind him. He turned around and saw Dunebud, webs wrapped all the way around her.
His eyes widened and Shamrock tried to leap to Dunebud’s aid… but his feet wouldn’t move. He looked down and saw he was wrapped up in webs all the way up to his knees, and the webs were still getting higher.
“What’s the meaning of this?!” Shamrock demanded.
A high-pitched laugh echoed throughout the space. “I heard there was a human who threatened everyone on live TV. I heard that everyone includes spiders.”
Shamrock glared upwards. “Let me go and I’ll forget that this ever happened.”
Muffet laughed again. “Oh I think that you’d make a wonderful addition to this next batch of pastries, so just sit still and let me do my work.”
Shamrock felt himself turn purple as he was wrapped in webs all the way up to his head. He had half a mind to load his save file, but it had been so long since he last saved and he didn’t want to have to redo everything that led up to this point.
Muffet giggled and let her spiders loose. They crawled towards Shamrock, who squirmed away from them, never staying still long enough for them to bite him. Annoyed, the spiders started hurling pastries.
Croissants flew at Shamrock’s head, so he tilted it left and right so they passed by. Then, the croissants slammed into the back of his head and Shamrock stumbled forward. He wanted to rub his new bruise, but his hands were wrapped up like the rest of him. A donut bounced off the ground and towards Shamrock, who ducked under it by falling onto the ground, where webs wrapped around him tighter.
Shamrock spared the attention to look at Dunebud and see how she was doing, only to notice that she’d wriggled her way free from the webs. Maybe her sandy body had made that easier for her, or maybe she was just very skilled.
Before Shamrock could dwell on those possibilities, his web was hoisted upwards and a giant muffin-spider monster burst out of the ground below him.
“What is that?!” Shamrock demanded.
“Ahuhuhuhu, that’s my pet,” Muffet replied. “You know, maybe I won’t bake you after all. You’re already exactly how my pet likes its food.”
The thing snapped its jaws as Shamrock was slowly being lowered back down towards it. He screamed.
Then, the pet was knocked aside as Dunebud slammed into it.
The pet collected itself and turned towards Dunebud, its displeasure clear on its face. It roared with enough might to Shamrock’s dangling body start swinging.
Dunebud collected itself, took a few deep breaths, and said, “Grrr~”
The pet whimpered and scurried away.
Muffet stared blankly. “What was that?”
Before she could do anything else, Dunebud leaped onto Shamrock. Then, she made a little arrow out of sand and started cutting the webs trapping him.
“Not so fast~” Muffet loomed over the two of them.
Another spider scurried up next to Muffet, a paper in hand. She raised four eyebrows, grabbed the paper, and read it. “This here says that you haven’t actually hurt any spiders. At least not yet.”
Shamrock’s webs were lowered to the ground and started unraveling.
“I guess that means you can go,” Muffet muttered. “But I’ll have my eyes on the two of you. Or if either of you ever change your mind, you would both make delicious pastries!”
As soon as Shamrock was freed, he grabbed Dunebud and sprinted out of there.