2[+]
CHAPTER 11: The Impossibility of Redemption
"hey."
"…Hello?"
"i hear you're the new fruit in town."
"…Fruiting body. Yeah, that's what they sometimes call me. The name's Ragel. Um…"
"don't like what you're seein', huh?"
"Uh… you… well, I'm a little confused, looking at you. You look bare."
"bare?"
"Just like… there's supposed to be more to you, but there's not. Sorry, I know that's rude. I haven't met that many monsters who aren't tems yet. Something just looks funny about you to me, no offense."
"the name's sans. nah, it's fine. i appreciate your honesty. so, you feel like there oughtta be a little flesh on these bones, huh?"
"Something like that. I mean, it's not for me to tell you how you should be. It's just an impression."
"well. about that. i actually hear that's what you do. tell people how they should be, i mean."
"Oh. Uh, not really. Kind of! I can look and see if people are… marked, you might say. By… things they've done."
"how about me? am i marked?"
"Whoa. That was spooky. Um… mushroom dance, mushroom dance. Whatever can it mean?"
"sure. i'll bite. what does it mean?"
"It means… I don't know what to make of you?"
"…ok. guess i'll take it. no marks, then?"
"A few. But they don't run broad. It kind of looks like they run deep. Haven't seen that before, though."
"deep marks, but nothing broad? ok. guess i can trust you to be honest, huh? you don't hold nothin' back?"
"I… I'm not much good if I'm not honest."
"really? you never lied to a person about their… marks?"
"Well… there was this ghost fellow once who came along wearing a training dummy… it didn't really fit. They seemed sensitive. About themself."
"so…?"
"So I didn't tell them how bad it really was. But… otherwise, yeah, I tell the truth!"
"is that a fact."
"Sure. Otherwise, there wouldn't be much point to me."
"that's what you think, huh?"
"…"
From their very first meeting, Sans had made him think. Now, Ragel was thinking again, but it was a firestorm of thoughts. He was looking at Flowey the Flower, but seeing nothing that made sense. That, all by itself, was enough for Ragel not to trust this creature. And then there was the fact that the golden flower seemed all too eager to get that heart-shaped case of souls open.
"Can you tell if he's sinning now?" asked the human child.
Except in extreme circumstances, like that Temmie from so long ago selling life insurance, whether a person was currently sinning wasn't something Ragel could detect. Certainly, nothing about this flower's extremely shrouded nature was changing right now.
"Yes. I can," he said. "And the sin on him is growing fast. I can see it caking on as we speak."
"What—are you kidding me?" objected the flower. "What the hell am I doing that's so sinful?"
Even if Ragel could see the sin on someone slowly growing, like with the life insurance temmie, he couldn't tell what sin was being committed. No way. At most, he could get the general pattern of the life being lived. Some vague hints about maybe what had gone wrong.
Sinuously, bobbing hips that he'd never had until now, Ragel started to sway.
"What are you doing?" the flower accused fiercely. "You don't know anything about me!"
"Mushroom dance, mushroom dance," chanted Ragel. "Whatever can it mean?"
"It doesn't mean anything," said Flowey the flower. "It means you're full of crap!"
Ragel stopped moving suddenly, taking on a dark aspect. "It means you're lying to that human right now," he said.
The flower turned back to the human. The human fondled their knife.
"You're not going to let them have these souls," the child said darkly. "You're going to take them for yourself."
"I wouldn't do—no, what am I going to do with a bunch of stupid human souls? I'm just a flower! You think I've got some use for them?"
"Lying," said Ragel. He couldn't see it with his powers, but he knew now from the tone of the flower's voice. Before, he'd been guessing. Now, he was sure.
"I'm not LYING. I just want you to have…"
But the flower was leaving, slipping away into the metal floor. It wasn't easy. This floor was hard for him to open his doorway through, and it was taking him seconds, not fractions of a second, to escape. Too long. The child darted forward, skidding onto his knee, and slashed the knife. Just like that, Flowey the Flower lay severed on the ground, cut loose from his own stem.
"NOOOOO!" he cried, his face suddenly shaped like something much more vulnerable. "WHAT!? NO! Stop! YOU CUT MY STEM? How could you cut a flower's stem? Don't you know that's where I'm rooted?!"
"You were going to betray us," said the human, whose voice almost sounded like two.
"I wasn't! You were… the jars were going to…" His voice faded out. Then he started to laugh, so unexpectedly it seemed to come from outside of himself. A mocking, deranged laugh. "Oh. Do you know what? Never mind. I think in your IDIOCY, you cut something. Inside of me."
Ragel could see the cloud of impenetrability on the flower slowing down. Like it was letting down its guard, a whirlwind that no longer wanted to whirl.
"I could never let go," said the limp flower on the floor. "I never let myself just end it, even when I wanted to. Now? …I couldn't stop you if I wanted. You've got more DETERMINATION than I've got. But I just realized…. if you really don't want to play with me? If this is all you want for me? Ziggy… you were my last hope."
"What are you talking about?" asked the child.
The flower grinned. "You know what? I was going to betray you. You wouldn't know how to open those jars. I was going to open them first. And once I had one human soul inside me, I'd be strong enough to keep you away from the rest. And I was going to drink them ALL!" His mouth broke into three parts and rotated around his face. "You would have fallen for it, too. And you were going to feel SO STUPID!"
The human frowned. They lifted the knife.
"Go on. Do it! It's a KILL OR BE KILLED WORLD!" shrieked the flower.
The child stabbed his golden face! The flower wilted and screamed and shook. The human raised their knife and slammed him, over and over, rendering the flower more of a shredded mess with each stroke. WHAM. WHAM. WHAM.
Eventually, the plant was just petals and shredded green gunk. After a long, awkward wait, the remnants of Flowey the flower fell at last to dust.
Ragel could feel the sin crawling on himself. He'd earned XPs through those lies. He hadn't known the flower was going to betray the human, but he'd acted like he'd seen it as clear as anything. The risk had been too great to take.
"Now," said the human. "Maybe we don't know how to open those jars. But is there any reason we shouldn't cut open the shell and try anyway?"
Ragel didn't know how to reply to that. But at that moment a shadow moved and became the opposite of a shadow, and Sans was standing between them.
Great. Had he been waiting for the flower to die all along?
"YOU," said the human.
"hiya. normally, i would've met you in the hall of judgment," the skeleton said. "you know… that long, sunny, somber place with all the decorations? good place to meet your last fate. but i knew you had company… so i decided to wait until you were freed up."
So Sans, too, had wanted the flower gone. Ragel wasn't sure even now it had been the right thing.
"What do you want?" demanded the human. "Are you going to stop me?"
Sans smiled a broad, terrible smile, and raised his shoulders and hands in a broad, terrible shrug. "looks like i'm not left with much of a choice. you killed them all, you know. you killed everything."
"Every what?"
"the people who mattered. well, except asgore. and ragel here, i guess. but you killed the old woman, with the jokes. you killed the guards, and undyne. you killed our tv superstar and our spider queen. you killed hope for the underground. you killed the bravest little monster kid i ever saw." His eye glowed blue like Ragel had never seen it, had no idea it could become. "and let's not forget. you killed my brother."
The child scowled and adopted a fighting stance. Sans conjured a packet of bones that hovered beside him in a blue light.
"what, nothing to say? fine. i wouldn't want to hear it. i was ready to let you leave, until i got the sense you might actually be satisfied. i can't let you be satisfied, kid. you've got nothing to be satisfied about. time for me to step in."
"Bring it," said the child.
So, as Ragel frantically dashed out of the way, Sans brought it. Battle mode spread its darkness over everything. Ragel had only seen this before a handful of times, when innocent Tem arguments had gotten out of control. The coffin room was soon filled with the sounds, weapons, soul enchantments and maneuvers of combat. A blue heart. A child jumping silently. A battery of a hundred bones, big and small. A dozen different attacks, each crueler than the last. The child got struck, and struck again. Finally, the onslaught of Sans' attacks were too much for them… and they got utterly dunk—
The child was ready for the blasters from the sides. They leapt to a higher platform, balanced on one of the coffins. They slashed again, Sans dodged again, and now there were huge bones descending from each side, leaving only a tiny space to jump between as they came together. The child got tripped up on the timing and fell, caught by the ground bones, utterly dun—
They found the rhythm quickly and started hopping lightly through the gaps. Another slash. Now Sans sent tiny bones swarming over the child's equipment, their knife and their locket. The child grunted from the pain of taking out a healing sandwich, attacked by their own stuff. It was too much to cope with, and the kid flailed out and fell to the floor, utterly du—
The kid tossed the pack into midair, dodging the impact of the bones, and pulled out a sandwich in between their passage over its surface, gobbling it quickly. They stood before Sans, healed, and attacked again. But the poison left from Sans' last attack was still working on them, and now came a barrage of blasters from all sides, this angle and that—the child wasn't ready to watch every angle, and got caught by one on the ceiling, baked to a crisp and utterly d—
"WHAT. IS. HAPPPENing!? 3-: 3-:"
"no moar tiemlien! (overvwelm)"
"too many too many too many moo temy"
Oh no. Oh, yes? The Temmies were here. Ragel was crouched under a table, hiding from stray laser blasts; he turned to one side and saw one of them, mouth stretched in a vertical oval of distress. "Temmie? What are you doing here?"
"bettr question. WHat am NOT doin here?"
"too many doing doing boing boing bong. Wrong," said another.
"is bob. Special favor. (u ask mee? so cute!)"
"I felt it would not be considerate for me to leave you here unaccompanied," whispered Bob suddenly from behind. Ragel saw him peering there from a ventilation grate. He slipped back to talk while the fight raged on.
"Bob! You got here through the ventilation system?"
"I believe that is what we did, yes. There were a surprising number of flower petals along the way." Some of them were stuck in Bob's fur; he pulled one loose with his teeth. "They were surprisingly sticky."
"Flower petals? Could they…?" But no, Flowey's petals hadn't seemed sticky at all, and he hadn't come that way anyway. Ragel had seen golden flowers in the throne room—they must have come from there. "Bob… are the temmies making these… time splices happen?"
"I do not believe so." Even as they spoke, the human kid was defeated, killed even, but was back again… not a moment later, but some other way that Ragel didn't remember. The false ends faded like dreams, until soon there was just an inkling of a memory that for a moment, something had been different.
"I believe it is the child themself performing these splices. Perhaps it is the product of having a great deal of determination. Yet it was surely of aid in helping our party find its way through the vents."
"sum people. CAN BLAME A DURN DERG FOR TRYin!"
"Let Trooth be Trooth! Stop Time Bendation!" cried one Temmie. The rest picked up picket signs and started to march around the room. "STOP TIME BENDATION!"
One got hit by a stray laser beam. "(dies)" emoted the Temmie, falling over.
"Girls! Tems! It's not safe out there!" called Ragel. He tried to loosen the screws holding on the grate Bob was peeking through. "How did they get through this?"
"One might as well ask, how do they get through anything? For that matter, how are we going to get through this?"
The kid died again, or seemed to. But this time, the Temmies stood up and seemed to focus their minds on something; a flash of light grew around them, and the room shook… but then the battle was back underway, the kid fighting again. And now they were paying attention to the temmies.
"watch out!" called Sans. "if you try and stop them, they'll kill you!"
"i will giev my life for quing and countree," declared a Tem before the human's knife slashed through her, opening a plume of dust from her side.
"Girls, please don't," cried Ragel. "This isn't our fight!"
"They are attempting to stop the child from reloading," said Bob.
"Can they do that?"
"Sadly, I do not believe they are strong enough. Still, they are giving the invader some difficulty."
Now the tems were united in their timing, all facing the same way, all vibrating likewise when the human fell again to one of Sans' platforming attacks. The human shook, disappearing and reappearing, their form smoldering on the floor… and then the image of them awake and alive faded away and the room got gray and faint. It was pregnant with… some reality wanting to be released.
There was a gap in which someone could have said something encouraging, something soothing. But nobody dared to break the terrible silence. Then, suddenly, the deadly attack hadn't happened, the temmies were scattered in a panic, reality jumped and jolted and the child was present again. Grim in mouth, tense yet bent in body, they leapt for the Temmies, slashing at them. One after another fell. "Get out of here!" yelled Ragel. Sans and Bob started yelling too. There was a maelstrom of panic and flapping ears and dark hair and flashing light and red lines of motion. The grate rattled and came loose, and several Tems surged past Bob into the vent. Others disappeared elsewhere, maybe into the very walls, or up the stairs into the palace. "RETWEET!" yelled one.
"THEIR ARE NO MOAR TREAT," replied the last tem to depart the room. Then there just were a few left, all huddled in the grate behind Bob, and the human was fighting an increasingly tired-looking Sans.
"It appears they were not strong enough," Bob observed.
Damn. "It was good they tried," Ragel replied. "I wish so many hadn't been killed."
"It is probably indeed a matter of sorrow," Bob agreed. "What do you think will happen now?"
Unfortunately… even though Sans was turning out to be an amazing fighter… it looked like he didn't have any way to deal with the child's timeline splicing, or 'reloading', or whatever it was. He was getting slower, and the cracks in his bones were looking worse. "Sans is going to lose," Ragel realized, terrified. "The kid's going to kill him, and take the souls. And who knows what happens then."
"Can Sans be dissuaded from fighting?"
Ragel remembered the conversation they'd been interrupted in, remembered their convo in the closet with the king from before. "…I don't think so," he concluded sadly.
"In that case… is it possible the souls could be kept from the human? I have a feeling that to do so is essential."
Ragel took a deep breath. "I can try to open the heart. Get them out while they're still fighting."
"That is a good idea. Yet are you able to open the case?"
"I don't have any way in. How was Asgore going to open it? His big trident or whatever?"
"I expect he was planning to open the combination lock."
"Combination lock? Is that what those letters in that little panel are?"
"That is correct. They must be turned to the correct code in order to open the heart."
Ragel had vaguely heard of things like that. Puzzles were an architectural motif in some parts of the Underground, as he understood it. "Do you know the code?"
"Alas, I do not."
He considered asking the tems, but the chances any of them knew were…
But then again. They were all about possibility. "Girls… tems. Can you… help me with that combination lock?"
"wil help," said one simply.
"If not hope, then, try other spelling!"
"HOAP for mushroom!" cried another.
Ragel ran over to the heart. They were fighting on the other side of the room. He figured out how to turn the dials. He tried HOPE. Nothing. He tried HOAP and HOEP and HELP. It didn't work.
"I have to try again!" he called. "But I don't have time! Give me time to keep trying!"
"Yes time," said one of the tems. They all started to vibrate together… their whiskers were almost on fire…
FLASH. Ragel was trying the first four letters on the dial, AAAA. He didn't think a ghost word like that would be the right answer, but he had to start somewhere, didn't he? Next, he guessed he could turn the last dial and try—
FLASH. GRY3, Didn't mean anything, but maybe it was short for "angry"? The last three letters? It made some sense, but no, that wasn't it. Well, GRY4 was next, time to—
FLASH. Would HOME work? Would it be that simple? He thought how amazing it was he'd made it far enough to try the word alphabetically… or had he just picked it as a variation of HOPE? He couldn't—
FLASH. SOUK didn't work. Ragel thought it meant something, some kind of cap maybe, but not a mushroom's cap. Still, he had to try everything, and it had been as good a place to start as any. Now, if SOUL turned out to be the combination, it would—
FLASH. More nonsense. Any random code was likely to be nonsense, and maybe that was the safest choice. What did TORG even mean? TORH was even less likely to work, but he had to keep trying. Maybe it was TORI, whatever that—
Click. The lock opened. The shell swung open so suddenly Ragel was caught by the swing of it and knocked over. "STOP!" he yelled back to the Tems. "Stop splicing! That was it! That was it!"
Sans looked back at him. The kid took advantage of his lapse to leap over a wall of bones and attack. Sans was caught off guard. He turned back and—
Slash. There was a stroke across Sans' chest! Liquid. Was that… ketchup? He was cut, and hurt. Dying, it looked like. No.
"Sans! Crap, crap, crap!" shouted Ragel, dodging under the point of the heart-shaped door and looking inside. It was jars, sure enough, on shelves. Held by some kind of mechanical arms that had let go when the door opened. Inside each jar was a colored heart, vibrant with existence. Six of them, all different colors. Plus one jar that was empty.
The human caught sight of what he was doing. "No," they hissed. Sans was saying something deadpan and maudlin, but the human stabbed him in the forehead, pulled the knife out again, and vaulted over.
Ragel panicked. He leapt up to the second shelf and swept all the jars down to the floor. They didn't break. As the human got closer, he swept the jars from the other shelf, then pulled open the door further into the human's path. They were caught for a moment by the rim of it, grunting, buying Ragel just a second…
He didn't know how to open the jars, but maybe Bob or the Temmies did. So he reached out his arms as far as they would extend and swept the whole mass of jars toward the table, back beside the ventilation grate. The temmies gasped and glowed at the sight of them, and started to shake, but he had no time to see anything else; he had to dodge away. At long last, after sparing and saving him more than once, the human was trying to kill him.
He scrambled to one side of the table, then leapt just in time to avoid being stabbed. He felt a couple of his hyphae get caught on the knife, cruelly severed. Then he ran for the end of the row of coffins, looking desperately for someplace to hide.
But the human wasn't following. The human was under the table. Smashing jars against the wall, the grate. Probably raising their knife, by the angle of their arm. Striking…
Then there was the tinkle of glass, the shattering of a reinforced jar. The human stabbed and stabbed and stabbed—there came tinkle after tinkle. Ragel leaned around the edge of the last coffin, watching in terror. Sans lay clutching his chest near the stairs up, suffused in a pale blue light. Ragel heard him say, "don't… let 'em… get away…"
Maybe he was going to say "with what they've done." Or "with the souls." But Sans exploded into dust at that moment, never to get his last word in. It hurt so hard it was like Ragel had been stabbed in his freshly leveled-up soles.
The human was groping around. Ragel wanted to hide, knew there was no way to fight, but he had to do something. He ran out again, yelling wordlessly and wildly, swinging his arms. His wordless cry turned into one of frustration and need and anger: "WHATEVER DOES IT MEEEEAANN!?" The human, he saw now, was reaching for a floating purple heart, one of six floating hearts in the air, the souls all released, the jar shattered. They looked back at him in surprise. They pulled up their arm with their knife.
Behind the human, the ventilation grate bent outward with a loud creak. Bob leapt for the purple heart. The human looked back.
What Ragel saw next, he didn't know how to describe.
Bob was not Bob anymore.
"II aamm AAffrraaiidd Ii cCaanNNnOOtT LleEtT yYoOuU cCoOnNtTiInNuUeE oOnN tThHiIsS cCoOuUrRsSeE oOfF aAcCtTiIoOnN," said the thing that had been Bob, sounding like two people and looking like some hybrid of too many things. A cat, a dog, a deer, a rabbit. Too many ears. Antlers and tails and too many ears.
The human crouched, leapt, and swung. But their arm caught on the edge of the table, no room to attack down there. Bob leapt and seized the yellow soul, then the blue one. He threw the table with tremendous, amazing strength into the human, sending them hurtling back against the wall, and kept gobbling up souls. Orange. Cyan. Green. Bigger and bigger he got, more and more animals writhing inside him, more and more voices when he tried to speak.
"Noo0O! too ookie," complained one of the Temmies, crouched in a ball under the table.
"stop STOP stop STop stop" said another.
"IiIiIiIiI aAaAaAamMmMmMm sSsSsSsoOoOoOorRrRrRrrRrRrRryYyYyYy," said Bob to the injured human, "bBbBbBbuUuUuUutTtTtTt yYyYyYyoOoOoOouUuUuUu mMmMmMmuUuUuUusSsSsSstTtTtTt nNnNnNnoOoOoOotTtTtTt bBbBbBbeEeEeEe aAaAaAalLlLlLllLlLlLloOoOoOowWwWwWweEeEeEedDdDdDd tTtTtTtoOoOoOo lLlLlLleEeEeEeaAaAaAavVvVvVveEeEeEe."
The voice was like a gale of wind all on its own. The human sat up and took a look at the fourteen-eared abomination, wavering at the edges, hunched against the ceiling of the coffin room, looming over them.
Then they dropped their knife and scrambled for the stairs.
"Bob?" called Ragel.
The human ran up the stairs. The huge monstrosity that had, Ragel was pretty sure, been Bob almost glided up them. It was part parakeet, part caterpillar, part guinea pig, part hedgehog, along with a bunch of other animals Ragel didn't recognize. With it having so many ways to move, the stairs didn't stand a chance against it.
The remaining Temmies screamed and dashed away down the vent. Ragel followed Bob and the human, striding up one stair at a time with all the effort his little legs could muster.
They vanished around the corner. Up the hall. Ragel didn't know if they'd gone through the door to the throne room, but he had to assume they had. He ran through the patch of carefully tended grass and golden flowers, observing that their petals were surprisingly sticky. He had more than a few sticking to him by the time he got through. Then he heard an ominous noise and dashed around one last bend…
He got there just in time to see the human peering back with an expression he didn't know how to read—utter fear, mixed hatred, maybe some kind of giving up—and leaping through the ancient barrier—the undulating, susurrating obstacle that had kept his kind imprisoned since time immemorial. Then the child was gone.
Bob, the monstrous, the one-part amalgam, the Ultimate Temmie, stopped in mid-stride, half his dozens of legs raised. He looked back ever so slowly, with ever so much control and a tragic dose of sadness, at Ragel, and in seven voices at once, he said:
"IiIiIiI aAaAaAaMmMmMmM nNnNnNnOoOoOoOtTtTtTt SsSsSsStTtTtTtRrRrRrRoOoOoOoNnNnNnNgGgGgGg EeEeEeEnNnNnNnOoOoOoOuUuUuUuGgGgGgGhHhHhHh TtTtTtToOoOoOo DdDdDdDeEeEeEeSsSsSsStTtTtTtRrRrRrRoOoOoOoYyYyYyY tTtTtTtHhHhHhHeEeEeEe BbBbBbBaAaAaAaRrRrRrRrRrRrRrIiIiIiIeEeEeEeRrRrRrR. iIiIiI hHhHhHhAaAaAaAvVvVvVvEeEeEeE tTtTtTtRrRrRrRiIiIiIiEeEeEeEdDdDdDd. IiIiIiItTtTtTt WwWwWwWaAaAaAaSsSsSsS cCcCcCcLlLlLlLoOoOoOoSsSsSsSeEeEeEe. IiIiIiI wWwWwWwIiIiIiIlLlLlLlLlLlLlL fFfFfFfOoOoOoOlLlLlLlLlLlLlLoOoOoOoWwWwWwW tTtTtTtHhHhHhHeEeEeEe HhHhHhHuUuUuUuMmMmMmMaAaAaAaNnNnNnN aAaAaAaNnNnNnNdDdDdDd TtTtTtTaAaAaAaKkKkKkKeEeEeEe TtTtTtThHhHhHhEeEeEeEiIiIiIiRrRrRrR sSsSsSsOoOoOoOuUuUuUuLlLlLlL. iIiIiIi EeEeEeExXxXxXxPpPpPpPeEeEeEeCcCcCcCtTtTtTt TtTtTtThHhHhHhAaAaAaAtTtTtTt TtTtTtThHhHhHhAaAaAaAtTtTtTt WwWwWwWiIiIiIiLlLlLlLlLlLlLl MmMmMmMaAaAaAaKkKkKkKeEeEeEe TtTtTtThHhHhHhEeEeEeE dDdDdDdIiIiIiIfFfFfFfFfFfFfFeEeEeEeRrRrRrReEeEeEeNnNnNnNcCcCcCcEeEeEeE."
Ragel could barely understand. He lifted his hand against the terrible glowing of the barrier, the terrible visage of his best friend. It was an attempt to see, but it was also a salute. He didn't know what to say.
The creature pounced and passed through the barrier, warping and shaking it in his wake. It settled; his image in the distance seemed to pass through an opening, and to fade into an unnatural light. Or maybe, the most natural light.
Then the image was gone, and the barrier was opaque again.
"Good luck," Ragel said to the place where Bob wasn't anymore.
Ragel went back to the True Lab. The little yellow bird was waiting for him there.
It sang a note and spread its wings as he approached. He sighed. His hyphae were a mess, some of them broken. He was still spackled with sticky golden flower petals, and he still felt bathed in sin.
"Are the others still hiding?" he asked.
"Wuip," answered the bird with a nod.
"Take me to them," said Ragel.
"Y-y-you're… you're saying the h-human is… gone? They aren't… we don't have to worry ab-bout them anymore?"
"They're gone," Ragel told Alphys. "They're all gone." He was sitting in the warm water of the geothermal bore; he didn't have the strength to stand anymore, and the moisture felt nice.
"All—all gone? You mean…"
"The human's gone. So's the thing that was attached to it, whatever that was. Whatever the flower thought he used to be friends with. The flower's gone, too. So is… so is Sans."
The lizard gasped. So did some of the other monsters who were listening in. "S-Sans… he's gone? You mean… for good?"
"Good. Yeah. That's what it's for, sure. And so is Bob. All gone."
"But… where?" asked Asgore, kneeling beside Ragel as if begging for information. "What happened to them all?"
"The flower was killed by the human. Sans too, even if he put up a fight. Then the human and Bob ran off through the barrier. Oh. And you know what else is gone? The six human souls."
Now that made Asgore look pale. He wasn't the only one. Monsters that desperately needed hope were losing their grasp on it all around him, and Ragel was too tired to care.
"The human got away with the souls?" asked Asgore.
"Nope. Bob took the souls. Chased the human through the barrier."
"Did he… d-did he actually absorb them?" asked Alphys, nearly biting her claws.
"Did he ever. You should've seen him. He grew into… quite the sight."
"But… why? Why would he take them?"
"I guess he just really didn't want the human to get their hands on them. Guess he figured someone had to get them out of the way."
"If he'd b-been able to catch the human… and k-kill them," said Alphys, "he would have been able to break the barrier."
Asgore closed his eyes for a long time, wincing. And he opened them again. "I should have been the one to do that."
"Eh," said Ragel. "Maybe. It's a tough ask." I was the one who took the jars out of the case, he thought to himself while he wallowed in the water from the warm run-off coil. I should have been the one to think of it.
Well, it wasn't like it would be his last regret.
Mushroom dance, mushroom dance. Whatever could it mean.
Ragel didn't like to dance anymore. Now that he could move around and had a body really built for dancing… with actual legs… it didn't appeal to him. Dancing—he figured it had been an act of rebellion, way back when. Like saying to his fate, how dare you tell me I can't move? I can move and I can make it look good.
Now, what was the point? He could move, sure. But it didn't mean anything much. There wasn't much of anyplace worth moving to. At least, that was how he felt more often than not.
It turned out he didn't need to bury himself to get fed. Lying in mud with his hyphae all covered was enough. He had to lie there most of the day to get sated, but it wasn't every day, and it was a lot better than it could've been. His legs didn't cramp up while he was lying there. If he was lucky, people came to talk to him. They thought of him as a hero, sometimes, based on the way he'd told the story—he'd tricked the evil human into killing the evil flower, then he'd valiantly figured out how to open the heartshell and bought Bob the time he needed to seize the souls from out of the human's grasp. If it hadn't been for Ragel, the human would have taken the souls for their secret shadow friend, or maybe the flower would have gotten them. And wouldn't that have been awful? Just think what horrible consequences either of those outcomes would surely have had.
They'd worked out a few more pieces after the fact, in the two years since it had all gone down. The flower and the shadow were siblings, once upon a time. Asgore had taken in a human kid to live with his own family, then it had all gone sour. Ancient history. The kid had gone evil and tricked the prince into absorbing his soul, then both children had died together and turned into monstrosities in the afterlife. Both gone evil. Both irredeemable. It was a tragedy according to everyone, and sure, that was how Ragel saw it too, though maybe not for the same reasons.
He felt like he needed Sans's sage wisdom, his guidance in figuring out his new life—this life in a world of cowards, of lucky survivors. Ragel needed Bob's comfort. But they weren't there anymore. Gerson came by to visit now and then with his own flavor of wisdom, but he never stayed long. Something about Ragel made him uncomfortable, he admitted with his characteristic laugh. The old shopkeeper seemed to think Ragel's problems were his own for working out.
About half the Temmies had survived—they'd been found cowering in the True Restroom, claiming it was "A rroOm… 4 the REST of uss!" But now, the whole Underground was like one big room for the rest of them. Too large, too empty. If Fischer had survived, at least they'd have theater to make sense of it all. If Mettaton had survived, at least Ragel and Blooky would have something on the tube now to watch.
"nothing's on again, I guess?"
"Nope, doesn't look like it. I know anyone can just go to the station whenever they want and do a show, but there's just not a lot of folks who've still got it in 'em," Ragel replied. Now and then, Alphys got up the nerve to put on some anime, but that was about it. Ragel was lying on Napstablook's floor with the ends of his hyphae tucked into a ghost sandwich, feeling a lot like trash… and it wasn't too much of a stretch.
"you know… maybe i could go to the station and… play a few tunes? i know not a lot of folks would like it… and maybe most of them wouldn't like it… and there aren't a lot of monsters with televisions anyway… but it might be…. a little bit better than nothing?"
"Yeah. Yeah, you know, it would be. You should do that. Maybe I could round up some folks, let 'em know when you're spinning discs. Get you an audience."
"ooo… do you think you might… want to come tooo? if it's not too much work… there might be something you could do to entertain."
"Do I look like good entertainment?" asked Ragel, sucking the ghost of the mustard out of the ghost sandwich, in spirit. "I don't have anything to say."
"but… you could dance for people? i remember that you… used to do that? …kind of a lot?"
Ragel shook his cap. "I could dance, but there wouldn't be anything in it. Not like people want to see me on their TV screens. It's not like there's anything I could tell them about their sin, anyway."
"well… if you're sure," said Blooky. "i don't know… maybe it's just me… but i… i kind of miss when things used to mean something, some of the time…"
"I know what you mean," said Ragel. "Heck, maybe Bob'll finally track down that human and come back with their soul, or some other human soul, and break the barrier."
"well… it has been two years…"
"So what? You don't think he's just taking his time?"
"…"
Ragel flipped a leg over the other and adjusted his cap like a pillow, shrugging. "Ehh. It's not like it would even make that much of a difference if the barrier did break, anyhow. Not like there's much of anywhere to go out there either. Or anyone left to enjoy it."
But when he looked again, Napstablook had left the room. Just as well. Ragel would keep the TV on, just in case. Its dark-wave undulation looked kind of like stars in the night sky, and he felt fine just relaxing here, anyway.
Mushroom dance, mushroom dance, he mused to himself as he listened to the snails crawling outside the window.
…It could mean whatever.
hello
at the end of a story
do you know what you want and need
that is right.
~YOU NEED BONUS SONG~
Genocidal Undertale
(To "Gentle Arms of Eden"
by Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer)
In a distant, hazy mountain, so the legends made it seem
Lay a vast amazing underworld like some unending dream.
So I plunged into the darkness, for I'd long since vanquished fear
And a demon flower spoke to me and made it very clear:
This was my home, this was my only home
This was the only ground remaining I would ever roam
And so I strayed in the darkness alone
And thus began my genocidal undertale.
A friendly monster found me as she was walking by
She told me tales of slimy snails and fed me love and pie.
I asked her how to move on, but she wouldn't let me leave
So I cut her down and told myself I had no cause to grieve;
I left her home, I left her ruined home
I left her quiet sacred ground to venture on my own
I would not stay amid frogs and fragile loam
I'd rather tell a genocidal undertale.
I emerged into a forest in a barren snowy pass
There were canine guards and bunny folk and skeletons with sass.
I went hunting in the tundra, where my anger took its toll
But when I returned to town I found they'd left it to a soul:
They'd fled their home, they'd fled their only home
They'd fled the only sacred ground that they had ever known
Lest they should fall in the dark night alone
Shivering victims of my genocidal undertale.
So I tromped into a swampland where the world was blue and black
But found to my dismay there were no people to attack
No onion in the ocean; no cryptic mushroom dance
Aside from one brave hero who was blocking my advance,
They'd fled their home, they'd fled their only home
They'd fled the only sacred ground that they had ever known
Lest they should fall in the dark night alone
Washed up victims of my genocidal undertale.
So I ventured into Hotland with its steaming magma sea
And I met a killer robot who was much more nice than me
He told me his creator had sequestered everyone
So I slaughtered lots of spiders and continued with my fun
They'd fled their home, they'd fled their only home
They'd fled the only sacred ground that they had ever known
Lest they should fall in the dark night alone
Burned up victims of my genocidal undertale.
I killed every single straggler in the giant metal Core
And I slew the killer robot whom I'd spoken to before.
Then the demon flower awakened and he told his sordid tale
But when I twirled my knife and left him fearing my betrayal,
He fled his home, he fled his childhood home
He fled the only sacred ground that he had ever known
Lest he should fall in the dark night alone
Ironic victim of my genocidal undertale.
Then I reached the hall of judgment where a skeleton stood guard
Who'd think a guy in slippers and a suit would fight so hard?
He killed me and he killed me 'til I'd died a hundred times
But I beat him on try one-thirteen 'cause there still were things I hadn't seen
And I couldn't slough my crimes.
I took his home, I took his only home
I took the only sacred ground that he had ever known
So then he fell in the great hall alone
Worthy victim of my genocidal undertale.
When I met the king of monsters, I destroyed him in one blow
Then I wandered through the ancient seal—where else was I to go?
I was aiming for the surface where humanity still dwelt
I'd show them why I'd left until they felt the way I felt
They'd lose their home, they'd lose their only home
They'd lose the only sacred ground that they had ever known
And then they'd fall in the gold flowers they'd grown
Hateful victims of my genocidal overtale.
But the flower tried to join me so that he could leave as well
So I smashed him into pieces and destroyed his broken shell.
I was left there in the darkness, 'til a thing with my own face
Said that they'd been in me, growing, so this world could be erased
They'd killed their home, I'd helped them kill their home
And then they cut the world away and left me on my own
So here I wait in the darkness alone
The final victim of my genocidal undertale.
Oh, I'd sell my soul to get another undertale.
A/N: Well, folks, I didn't know where things would end up when I started, but here we are again on the verge of a broken barrier, but not knowing when or if it will ever happen. My objective was to explore the life and times of a fellow who never got to do much, but who had the trapping of someone meaningful. What goes on inside the mind of a strange little NPC prophet? Now, perchance, we know.
The other temptation leading me on was a certain odd lack of satisfaction in the genocide route at the fact that some characters just escape and disappear—you don't get to kill EVERYONE. You can never kill the Nice Cream Guy, or Napstablook, or Monster Kid… so what if a genocidal completionist were to go back, set on finishing the job. The horror of everyone being murdered one by one, though, didn't strike me as story material… so things, as they will, got more nuanced. Maybe that lack of satisfaction isn't really odd. Maybe it's baked in.
As the bonus song suggests, yes, it took me 113 tries to beat Sans. Those bones on the menu really jacked me up! It was the hardest video game boss fight I've ever faced, by far. But I consider it to have been worth it.
The last Undertale project I have unfinished is one about Asgore. It supposes that he actually did what Toriel points out he could have done long ago—took one human soul and crossed to the surface alone, in hopes of resolution of the great war. I wonder if anyone's told that story yet. I may finish writing it someday; I may not. And who knows—maybe Deltarune will awaken inspiration in me when future chapters arrive.
Oh, and for some reason I'm writing a short series based on The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe. It's got a very different feel, but if you know that game, you may want to track it down.
For now, that's all, folks! I hope I've written a story worth reading. Let me know what you thought.
[ [ ( ( [ [ - / = / + / = / - ] ] ) ) ] ]