Undertale - Reprise (Complete)

=PART 1=

Research into Determination was mostly suspended decades ago. Most of the findings were never made public, and research was slow even when it was popular due to the lack of timeline anomalies. It just wasn’t a problem that needed to be solved anymore.

After all, everyone got their happy ending. As long as Frisk had the most Determination of anyone alive, there was no reason for anyone to worry, and beyond that, well, humans and monsters would have to solve the world’s problems as they came. Besides, time had managed on its own without interference up until now, so it was pretty safe to assume that anyone with Determination would eventually pick a timeline and see it to the end.

A timeline without regrets.

Frisk slumped back, relaxing into the comfy office chair. A benefit of a distinguished career, a chair you can sleep in. There hadn’t been anything major that had required Frisk’s attention as the official Ambassador for human and monster relations for months, if not years. After a rocky start, humans and monsters had had a lot to offer one another, and relations had stabilized once enough people had something to lose if the interspecies truce failed. Truly, the best way to incentivise harmony was to make it profitable.

Now, apart from the occasional disturbed individual trying to harvest souls, things were smooth and easy. That is to say, boring.

It was amazing how time flew. It had been what, 40 years? Frisk looked at the collection of photos over on one corner of the needlessly gigantic desk. A long time since the fall, since those days of fights and resets. It was probably a good idea to give Toriel a call sometime, see how she was doing at the school as headmaster. Frisk hadn’t heard from the gang much lately, really. Everyone had been so busy, making lives for themselves under the stars. They’d grown apart. Natural, really, considering how big the world was in comparison to the underground. Everyone had left, moved on.

Everyone but one.

Frisk sighed in exasperation, rubbing their eyes. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much work there was to do, there was always that little niggling loose end. Long ago, far away, a voice from beyond the grave.

Don’t you have anything better to do? Someone has to look after these flowers.

Frisk checked the schedule. Next week, some kind of meeting. A few days after that, a charity dinner. A trip to Europe to attend a conference, another long flight. But… a few days between now and then. With some effort, the looming pile of paperwork that haunted Frisk day and night might be defeated, or at least pushed back for a moment. And Mt. Ebott was only an afternoon’s drive away…

***

Years of neglect. The whole place was faded, overgrown, empty. Buildings without doors or windows, some vandalised, some reclaimed by nature. Frisk had considered getting down to the ruins the easy way, but Ebott was a tall mountain to climb, and Frisk definitely wasn’t as spry and resilient as they had been all those years ago. So, a leisurely stroll from the castle. Some of it had been mildly dangerous, particularly the core, which had been left to its own devices, but Frisk was very familiar with the shifting rooms.

Toriel’s old home looked a lot smaller. Dusty, bare, with most of the furniture long since removed. The sight of it had filled Frisk with a wistful nostalgia, but there was more walking to do, so they moved on.

The puzzles in the ruins were all broken or solved. No one had been down here to reset them or maintain them, after all. It made what had once been a harrowing journey into a pleasant, quiet stroll.

Finally, one final door, and then the room at the center of the long dormant volcano. The last of the evening light reached through a hole, far above, illuminating a room run rampant with yellow flowers. They covered every surface, climbing the walls, waist deep in parts. Frisk leant against a wall, taking a moment to catch their breath. Time was catching up, it wasn’t that long ago that walking for a few hours wasn’t a problem, now it just aggravated an assortment of aches.

Unsurprisingly, there was no one here. Frisk wandered into the middle of the room, looking around absently. The memories flooded back, clear as the day it happened.

“Asriel.”

Frisk spotted movement out of the corner of an eye, only realising after the fact that they had spoken aloud. They turned, searching for the movement. There was only more flowers.

Frisk sighed. This was a waste of time. Asriel would have moved on long ago, to where ever his whims decided. Why Frisk had expected him to still be here, waiting, it was beyond-

One of the flowers slowly turned to face Frisk. Blank eyes, and a totally neutral expression, they regarded Frisk without an ounce of passion, or recognition.

“Asriel!” Frisk moved closer, shocked but happy to see him, even as a flower. “I can’t believe you’re still here! I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

The flower didn’t move. It didn’t react to his presence at all, it’s eyes didn’t even focus. It stared blankly into the middle distance.
“A… Asriel. It’s me, Frisk.” Nothing. Frisk waved a hand in front of the flower. Not even a blink. “Hey. Hey! Are you… Are you ok? Say something!”

Nothing. He didn’t even blink.

Frisk touched the flower, gingerly. Memories of Flowey echoed, Flowey didn’t enjoy being touched. Nothing happened.

It was like he was empty. How long had he been there, staring at nothing?

This was hardly the first time that regret had whispered to Frisk, causing him to journey here, to where it all started. It had been easy to assume that Asriel had just left to go somewhere else, do something to pass the time.

Apparently, he had finally come back. His body couldn’t die, it hadn’t aged a day, but his mind…

Frisk dropped heavily onto their knees in front of the flower. It didn’t react.

“This… This isn’t… I-I didn’t want this. Asriel, say something! Asriel!”

The words echoed in the chamber. Above them, the last of the light died.

***

“Hey, kiddo. Long time, no call.”

“Hey Sans. How’s the ‘dog business treating you?”

“Oh, it’s up and down. These kids running the stalls, they’re working me like a… well, you know.”

Frisk couldn’t quite keep from groaning audibly. Sans chuckled on the other side of the line. They both knew that Sans had the monster food business buttoned down on the entire west coast, and that by dint of as little effort as possible, he hadn’t done an honest day’s work in years, or possibly ever.

“Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t call just so I could exercise some old puns. What’s up?”

“I’ve been busy, you know that. I’m hurt, that you would imply that I wouldn’t call without some pressing business.”

There was a moment.

“Buuut.”

“Look.” Some of the humour was gone from Sans’s voice. “There’s only two reasons you’d call me at this point. I haven’t gotten any invites to any big reunion parties, so that leaves only one reason.”

“Sans…”

“You promised.” Now, there was accusation. Anger. “No more resets. We agreed that this was the best possible outcome, there’s nothing more to be done.”

“I found him, Sans.”

Frisk looked up. The flower was staring out the window, the same as when Frisk had turned the pot to point him that way, the day before yesterday.

“It’s… It’s bad.”

“Frisk… I’m sorry. But you can’t.”

“I can’t leave him like this. It’s not fair.”

“What about all of us, Frisk? You promised me that we’d all see out this time together, for better and for worse. You’d be taking away everyone’s lives, everything we all worked for.” Sans was beginning to sound desperate.

“I know. I can’t do that to you all, not after all this time. I won’t.”

Sans audibly breathed a sigh of relief. “Anyone else I’d have trouble believing, but you’ve always had that honest streak. So why’d you-”

“I’m going to wait it all out, until the very end. You and the rest of the guys, you’re not getting any older, right? But I know monsters still die of old age. You just kinda stop, eventually, right?”

“W-well. I mean, none of us are getting any younger…”

“I’m not going to take this timeline away from anyone that can avoid it. I’m gonna show Toriel and Asgore, and ask for their permission, and then I’m going to wait until the end.”

Sans was silent.

“I’m going to figure it out, and then I’m going back one more time. Even if it takes the rest of my life.”

“...I can’t stop you, can I?”

“You can’t see him, Sans. It’s like he was never there to begin with. I can’t…”

Frisk swallowed at the lump in their throat. A feeling was welling, one Frisk hadn’t felt in years.

The sight of what was once Asriel filled Frisk with Determination.

“I have to save him.”

=PART 2=

Determination. A burning desire, the strength to survive, the willpower to refuse even the finality of death.

But, all things that live are determined. A second factor, an unseen vector, it was reasoned to exist. After all, if Determination, Saving, and Resetting were merely the prizes awarded to the most determined being alive at any one time, why wasn’t the timeline constantly looping back on itself?

Frisk has theorised that the second vector was Regret. The inability to let go of something unfinished, unfulfilled.

Frisk took one last look at the two of them, Asgore and Toriel, the only true parents Frisk had known, and smiled.

And then, Frisk woke up.

It had been a long, long time since the last Reset. Frisk had all but forgotten about the jarring sense of discontinuity, not so much a headache as a soul-ache, as those Frisk’s very essence had been somehow squeezed through a hole in reality, and left tender and raw.

Frisk took a moment to get their bearings, gingerly weaving a hand through the flowers to touch at solid earth. It was real, and vibrant. The colours, the smells, they were so much sharper and more vivid now. It slowly set in that Frisk was once again young, so incredibly young. Frisk sat up, marvelling slightly at how easy and pain free it was, looking down at their hands.

Long ago, minutes ago. Back when they were 8, right now, when it all starts.

The weight of the task at hand pressed down on Frisk, replacing the weight of age. The experience, the mental scars, they would linger, possibly forever. And there was so much to do.

But first, Frisk had to go meet someone very special. Someone who would promptly try to kill them.

But, you know, no one is perfect.

***

The hardest part was playing dumb. Whatever had happened to Asriel, or, Flowey, rather, he’d long since stopped remembering by the time Frisk had found him, long ago, decades from now. To Flowey, there might as well have never been a future at all. It was like the first time, all over again.

“You IDIOT.” It was gleeful, sadistic. Frisk winced, it had been a long time since anything had damaged their Soul. It didn’t tickle, that was for sure.

“In this world, it’s kill or BE killed.”

In the past, Frisk might have used this opportunity to interrupt, make some kind of witty joke. After all, nothing begets contempt like familiarity. But even as Flowey filled the room with bullets, Frisk just quietly smiled, eyes fixed on a telltale flicker, far off in the darkness behind Flowey. Fire magic.

Toriel was one of the few who had seen out the entirety of the timeline with Frisk. Would she remember? Frisk supposed they were about to find out.

“...Why aren’t you reacting? I’m about to KILL YOU! Don’t you care?”

Frisk jumped a little, focusing back on the matter at hand. This was new.

Flowey looked hesitant, shaken even. “It’s like you… You’re…”

Flowey’s bullets slowed, coming to a halt around Frisk and fading into nothing.

“Have… we met? Why don’t I remember?” Flowey looked down, and then back over Frisk as though seeing them for the first time. “Who are you?”

Multiple timelines worth of experimentation had definitively shown that revealing prior knowledge to anyone was dangerous at best, and Reset causing at worst. But, Frisk couldn’t resist.

“It’s me. Your best friend.”

Flowey’s confused look was interrupted by shock as Toriel’s fireball stuck him from behind, sending him flying into the chamber of flowers and disappearing into the yellow petals with a thud.

“What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth…”

Frisk slumped down, relieved to be back on track. The idea of doing all of this over again, and to have it all be different, it was exhausting. But this, this was comforting and familiar. It was time to do what Frisk did best, one last time. For now, at least.

“I am Toriel, caretaker of the ruins.”

Yeah. Good to see you again, mother.

***

Frisk took a moment, finding a nice dry spot by the waterfall in Waterfall, sitting down with a torn notebook and flipping to an empty page. For a terrifying moment, memory failed, and decades worth of planning seemed to evaporate in the face of the dreaded blank whiteness.

Not for the first time, Frisk considered the possibility that they might just be crazy, that Resets were just some kind of bad nightmare and the memories were just lucky guesses, the details of which would evaporate like the details of a dream as soon as it was attempted to transcribe them.

Then, Frisk remembered, breathing a sigh of relief and beginning to sketch out the plan.

Determination had just been the beginning of their research. It could be replicated artificially provided you had a natural source, but the artificial version was less potent, the side effects of an overdose were severe, and dose was proportional to body mass. More importantly, Determination on it’s own did not grant the abilities to Save and Reset.

Saving and Resetting was a form of time travel that could transport your consciousness and Soul, but not your body, through your own personal time line. This ability defaulted to the being with the most Determination, provided they were capable of making use of it.

Souls functioned independently of Determination, Saving, and Resets.

Without one, Asriel was doomed.

Monsters could absorb the souls of humans, which linger after death. Humans can absorb the souls of Boss Monsters, the most powerful of monster souls.

Souls could be released from absorption.

It had taken a very long time to obtain all this information. Alphys’ research had gone cold decades before Frisk had taken it up, and the Gaster files she had based her research on were a barely coherent, disjointed mess. In addition, their research had been focused on breaking the barrier. Frisk had something a little crazier, a little more impossible in mind.

There was no guarantee it would work. But there was nothing else left but to try.

Frisk closed the notebook, hiding the cramped, dense text and sketches that now filled the pages. If memory served correctly, the Dreemurr family monument wasn’t too far ahead. A lullaby and a short nap sounded nice, an 8 year old’s body needed a lot more sleep than Frisk was accustomed to getting.

More than one person watched Frisk get up and stretch, yawning loudly and then strolling off into the slightly damp haze.

Suspicion. Frustrated backseat gaming. Intense, spear based anger. And… confusion. Flowey was fascinated, haunted by this human. Something about the way they had looked at him, it was almost as if he could feel something again.

The melancholic sound of Memory echoed through the darkness.

=PART 3=

Frisk hadn’t been looking forward to dinner with Sans, for a variety of reasons.

The cabaret act was awful, for starters. Weak piano accompaniment to a bunch of jokes you were guaranteed to have heard before even if you hadn’t looped the timeline repeatedly.

Then there was the food. Monster food was nice for a snack, but for humans, you eventually started to crave something that didn’t immediately dissipate into energy upon hitting your stomach. Call it an old habit, dying hard.

Plus, if Sans had figured it out, if Frisk had slipped up somewhere…

It was unlikely that he’d be pleased about Frisk’s actions, to put it lightly.

Sans had paused for a moment, halfway through his story about the door in the forest, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and appreciate the bad show going on up on stage. In a little while, Frisk would receive Sans’s friendly death threat, and then it would be time to push on into the CORE. Right on schedule.

“...one day, though, I noticed she wasn’t laughing very much. I asked her what was up. Then she told me something strange.”

Sans shifted forward in his seat, looking a little more intently at Frisk. Frisk did their best to look attentive and intrigued.

“She said, ‘If a human ever comes through this door… could you please, please promise me something?’ Now, I hate making promises. And this woman, I don’t even know her name. But what she asked me to promise to do...”

Sans scrutinised Frisk. Shade covered his eyes, and out of nowhere, his voice was like ice.

“She asked me to forgive them.”

Uh oh. That was new. Frisk didn’t have to feign shock, this time.

“Now, I thought that was pretty unusual. Specific, even. And then, whaddya know, along you come, and what could I possibly need to forgive you for?”

Sans leant back, dropping into his normal, relaxed tone of voice. Frisk’s heart started beating again, and they couldn’t help but give a small relieved sigh.

“I mean, I like you, kiddo. I’ve got a good feeling about you, in my bones. And feelings like that, they’re usually right, I’ve found. Not only that, but I’ve been watching you, and you’re kind, smart, resourceful, and merciful.”

Sans reached into the dark depths of a hoodie pocket, and produced a small remote of some kind, with a row of lights on it, and placed it on the table. One was lit, glowing with a steady blue light, and the rest were dark.

“That’s why it’s such a shame that I don’t quite believe it.”

Frisk was most of the way out of the chair, ready to dive for cover, when Sans raised a bony hand. “Relax, kiddo. You’re the genuine article, I don’t doubt that. I ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

“Sans…” Frisk hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but it was clear that this conversation was going all the way off script no matter what they did. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sans chuckled. “You oughta be an actor, kid. Even now, you’re doing a terrific job.” He pointed to the device on the table. “If it wasn’t for that lady’s tipoff, and this, I’d have never noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

Frisk eased themselves back into the chair with no small amount of trepidation. “...so, what is that?”

“This here is just an indicator. It’s my own little personal, 12 volt battery powered hell. These little lights here light up when the machine it’s linked to detects some kind of temporal activity.”

Sans picked it up and tossed it lightly into the air with one hand, catching it again and grinning at it.

“I hate this thing. ...I used to wake up in a cold sweat every morning and check this, wondering if this was the morning where someone had Reset and erased my entire life back to that point. Like a little alarm clock that only existed to remind you that at any moment, your life and everything you’ve worked for can be taken away, and the little glowing light is the only thing you have to show for it. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it, so I locked it away, along with everything else I’d done to research this… But I had to know, after that lady gave me the heads up.”

Sans put the device back on the table and spun it around, so that it was facing Frisk.

“But you wanna know what the real skull-scratcher was? I don’t remember you at all, and I put a lot of time and effort into learning how to remember things. All I got is a kinda vague sense of deja-vu. Not only that, but this says there was only a single reset. Unknown origin time, outside of range. And that never happens. Ever. Resets come in threes, fives, fifties. Multiple tries, until an ideal timeline is reached by trial and error. But you… You’ve had a plan from the moment you walked out of that door.”

Sans hunched back again, threading his hands into his pockets. “Nothing’s phased you, or even slowed you down. You’ve got something in your pockets for every problem you encounter, you know just what to say to every monster you meet, and like I said, your acting has been superb. That amount of familiarity, I’d be able to accept that if you’d reset dozens of times, trying to get everything exactly right, but you already know exactly how you want things to go. So. Why are you back here?”

Frisk opened their mouth, thought about it, and then closed it again.

“Nothing to say, huh? Well, I have a theory, if you care to listen. If I died of old age, wherever you’re from, there’d be no memories to bring back when you reset the timeline. A nice, clean slate for you. But that lady, she knows you, somehow. And she saw your timeline to the end. And whatever you spent all that time planning, she wants me to forgive you for it. And now you’re here, despite the fact that you already know everything this timeline has to offer, to try something new. And you took away everyone’s future in order to try it.”

Frisk couldn’t even look Sans in the eye. It was true.

“Is what you’re trying to do… really worth it?”

“...Yes.”

Frisk took a moment to realise that this time it was their own voice. They blinked in surprise, and looked up at Sans. He chuckled, pushing his chair back with a foot and getting up, taking a few steps and stretching.

“Well, that’s all I really needed to know. It’s not like I can stop you from trying whatever it is you’re doing, anyway. That’s all for now. Take care of yourself, kid. ‘cause someone… ah, you probably already know. Don’t waste this chance, ok?”

He didn’t wait for a reply before shuffling off into the dimly lit recesses of the restaurant. The exit was in the other direction, but Frisk knew that wouldn’t be a problem for him.

Frisk breathed a heavy sigh of relief this time, leaning heavily on the dinner table. The food had gone cold, much like Frisk’s blood. Really, they’d gotten lucky this time. It was unlikely that Sans would be in such a forgiving mood if this took more than one try. This aversion of his to Resets apparently went much deeper than Sans, uh, that is to say, Old Sans from before, had ever let on. Sheesh, time travel was hard to keep straight in your head sometimes.

Frisk took two deep, steadying breaths. One, to calm their nerves and focus their determination. The other, in response to the realization that Sans had left Frisk the bill.

=PART 4=

Asgore was crouched down, humming tunelessly to himself, tending to the flowers with a care that harshly contrasted with his size. Frisk didn’t really want to interrupt; gardening had always been one of Asgore’s meditative and calming rituals.

It had taken Frisk years to realise that when Asgore was out in the garden, he was usually trying to hide from something. Sometimes, it was the duties of the crown. Other times… Well, Asgore was haunted by many things. As Frisk’s adoptive father, he had proven to be a warm and caring man with a quiet stubborn streak. But if you followed that streak to the core, you’d find black iron, a willingness to do anything, endure anything, in order to best serve his subjects.

A good person in a bad situation, trying to hold everything together.

Asgore sighed quietly, putting down a watering can with a small sloshing noise and getting to his feet, unknowingly towering over Frisk as he stretched and yawned, shaking off the ache of being crouched for so long. He turned his head slightly, and one of his ears twitched.

“Oh? Is someone there? You got here just at the right time, I’m all done with the garden for today,” he said cheerfully, turning to face Frisk. “Howdy! How can I…”

He caught sight of Frisk and faltered into silence, stumbling backwards a step. He looked shocked.

“Oh.”

Frisk took a deep breath of their own, trying to keep a straight face. It was heartbreaking, to see Asgore looking so… Tired.

“I so badly want to say ‘Welcome home’, but… I don’t know you, do I?”

Oh.

“I was told that a human was coming, so I came here, knowing that eventually you would have to pass through this garden to get to the barrier. To be honest, I was hoping that you would never come. But, now that I can see you… I feel like I can remember a dream, even though I don’t know when I dreamt it.”

Frisk clenched their fists, trying to ignore the frantic pounding of their heart. The small differences in this timeline were starting to add up, and the plan was hanging in the balance. Frisk had come too far to have everything fall apart here, in the shadow of the barrier. There had to be a way to make this work, still. Asgore looked from Frisk’s face to their hands, noting the slight shake and the white knuckles.

“Maybe you’ve had this dream as well? I dreamed of a life on the surface, of the barrier broken and hope for my people, living in peace with humans. I dreamed of second chances, even for someone like me. I dreamed that I was released from this long wait in this empty room. But then… I guess I woke up. It was such a nice dream, too.”

“I… Asgore, I’m… I’m sorry…” Frisk couldn’t stop their voice from cracking. He looked so hurt.

“You don’t have to apologise for a dream, child.” Asgore put on a weak smile, but his heart was clearly not in it. “But that dream did have a nice ending. The one who gave us everything, the one who ended it all, they were doing it for a reason. They wanted something impossible, a gift for me beyond value. The one second chance I knew I would never receive.”

Asgore sniffed, blinking as though something was in his eyes. “I’d give up anything for that chance.“

For a moment, there was only the chirping of birds. Frisk couldn’t raise their voice above a whisper. “I’m going to get him back, dad.”

“...Frisk.” Asgore looked like he didn’t trust his own memory, as though the name had come to his lips from somewhere unknown. “You’re… very determined, aren’t you?”

Frisk wiped at their eyes with a sleeve, sniffing at a suddenly clogged nose, before nodding at Asgore.

“Hmm… I have this feeling that trying to fight you would be pointless, and I have no desire to take your soul. Perhaps this is merely the result of many long years of loneliness… But I want you to follow me. I have… some gifts for you. Six souls, that I… ‘kept’.” Asgore’s voice caught on the word, on the lie he was telling himself.

“Perhaps they will be of some use to you.”

***

Flowey slowly peeked around the corner. In the distance, up the grey stairs, he could faintly hear some kind of commotion. Perfect. The human and that idiot old man should keep one another busy for a little while yet. After that, if Flowey had done his homework right, the loud skeleton would bring every last monster in the underground to the castle, which would mean all those souls would be ripe for the picking. Flowey chuckled to himself, his face twisting into an obscene grin as he drew back into the crypt, riding on a serpentine wave of thorned vines. If he had hands, he would have been rubbing them together as he watched the vines squirm and writhe along the six closed caskets, the creaking of hinges and groaning of metal sounding like sweetest music as the vines ripped them open and flowed into the holes, seeking his long awaited prizes.

Everyone in the entire underground had bigger things to worry about right now. No one could possibly ruin this moment for him.

“Hey Flowey.”

“AAAAAAUUGH! Ahhh! Hahhh… h-howdy.”

The human was sitting in a dark corner, looking intently at a blue soul in a glass container.

“Y-you’re… Why aren’t you up at the barrier?”

“Huh? Oh, it was getting a bit crowded up there. Besides, I’ve never had a chance to see one of these up close before. They’re kind of beautiful, aren’t they?” The human looked from glowing blue shape to Flowey. Flowey gritted his teeth with rage.

“You… YOU! You think you can stop me with just one soul! I have five!” He brandished the rest of the soul containers with his vines. “I have more than enough power here to take that last one from you by force! And after that, I’m going to take everyone else’s souls as well! And then! I’m gonna take YOURS, and you CAN’T STOP ME, YOU IDI-” Flowey was cut short by the human, who casually tossed the blue soul over to him.

“Here, catch.”

Flowey blinked, vines wrapped around the last container. “I… I don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I can’t stop your plan. It’s too late for hesitation or regrets. Win or lose, this all finishes now.”

Flowey’s mind reeled. Why? WHY?!? It didn’t make any sense! This human was all wrong! Flowey hadn’t seen them mess anything up, not even once! He couldn’t Reset, he couldn’t upset this human if it were the literal end of the world, and looking at them made Flowey’s petals crawl!

“What is your DEAL? You don’t make any sense!”

“I’m just… trying my hardest.”

“...You know what? It doesn’t matter. You might have some kind of plan, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it just doesn’t matter! I’ve got the souls, I’m going to become a god, and then it just. Doesn’t. Matter. When I take your soul, maybe I’ll let you scream for a moment, give you a chance to explain yourself.” Flowey’s vines, which had been creaking as they tightened around the containers as he had gotten angrier, finally burst through the glass of the containers. The power flowed into him, filling his empty core. The soul’s emotions echoed, and Flowey relished the taste of the fear. He looked down at the human, who had gotten to their feet and was now looking at him with some implacable, unreadable expression, and he laughed his scorn, reaching out into the castle with his vines.

As the screams of shocked and surprised monsters echoed, Flowey smiled from petal to petal.

“All of your souls are MINE!”

***

“Asriel.”

“Frisk. How did… Why are you here?”

Asriel clutched at his head. The experience of hundreds of years of timelines and memories, folding themselves into a whole and blooming in his mind, it was uncomfortable to say the least. And confusing. The last he remembered, the resets were over.

“I… I had to.”

“Had to…? Had to what? It was over, Frisk! I told you to let go, I told you not to worry about me any more!”

“But-”

“Why are we back here?! Frisk! What did you DO!?!”

But Asriel already knew. Frisk had… Frisk had betrayed everyone. For what? An empty echo of someone that Frisk had never even met. Everyone’s hopes and dreams, burnt to ashes in an instant. Because of him.

Asriel knew that Frisk couldn’t be trusted with the power to Reset anymore. Frisk had to be stopped. Asriel would have to take that power away, and then leave, and go somewhere that no one would ever find him. It was the only way to be sure.

The certainty that flooded through Asriel, it poured out into the space in front of him and formed into two long blades, which he gripped and brandished angrily.

“Asriel, I know you’re angry, but I couldn’t-”

“Shut UP!” Asriel’s grip tightened. The hundreds of souls inside of him… he had to protect them. This would be his last act. The thought of having to do this, to save everyone from himself, even Frisk… it filled Asriel with determination.

=PART 5=

It’s the end.

Two things had become abundantly clear. First of all, every other time Frisk had faced off against Asriel in any of the other timelines, Asriel had either been toying with Frisk, or holding back. Second, Asriel wasn’t playing around this time.

He was too fast. Frisk couldn’t get any distance from Asriel, who was close enough to touch and slashing wildly with both of his blades. Frisk ducked, feinted, leant back, but one of the swipes caught an arm and sent Frisk off balance, and it was swiftly followed up with a cut across the leg. Frisk stumbled, and before they could regain their footing, both blades pierced directly through Frisk’s chest.

Magical attacks were unlike physical ones. The wounds they left looked drawn on and didn’t bleed, and the pain that they inflicted was more mental than physical. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.

Frisk barely had a chance to make a strained gasp before the blades shimmered and exploded, the fragments feeling as though they were tearing Frisk apart from the inside. Frisk looked up in shock from the glowing spot on their chest to Asriel’s grim, determined expression. Asriel raised both hands, point blank, and Frisk’s entire world was filled with glowing, rainbow light.

There was a small discontinuity. Frisk landed on their face heavily, flopping into a pile of limbs and pain. Frisk groaned, pushing at the ground with shaking hands in an attempt to rise.

“Frisk… I told you not to worry. I told you to leave me be.” Asriel loomed, floating a few centimeters off of the ground. He didn’t even look winded. If anything, he looked disappointed. “Why couldn’t you just let go?”

Frisk managed to put one knee between body and ground, rising enough to look Asriel in the eye. “...I tried. I really did. I spent years trying to forget, to move on. Having so much to do helped.”

“I remember. You helped so many monsters, you made it your mission to get everyone settled into their new lives on the surface.”

“You saw that? It was a lot of work.”

“I had nothing better to do.” Asriel touched down to the ground, gently. It seemed that the asskicking was on hiatus for the moment. Frisk tried not to be visibly relieved. “And yet… eventually, you came looking for me, it seems.”

“I found you, back in the cave where it all started. And you were… empty. Gone.”

Asriel’s expression flickered, some imperceptible mix of emotions washing over him. “...Gone?”

“Like… you were dead inside. An odd flower with a face, nothing more.”

Asriel exhaled, seeming to shrink a little. “...Well, that was an ending, at least. Everyone else was happy, and that’s what mattered.” He clenched a fist. “And now this. Isn’t this what you were fighting to stop, Frisk? Some lunatic looping the world and stealing the future to play games with everyone’s lives?”

“I… I couldn’t leave you like that.”

“You should have. It’s not fair, that you’ve done this, Frisk. Life isn’t fair, and someone always has to pay the price, and if it’s not me then it’s everyone else.” Asriel looked away. “...This is my fault. Another disaster, caused by my carelessness. You tried so hard to save everyone, I thought I could trust you to do the right thing. I see now that that was a mistake.”

Asriel raised a hand, which crackled with power.

“I’m sorry, Frisk. I really am. I know you only wanted to help, to save me as well. But… I’m not… I’m not Asriel. Asriel died a long time ago. I’m just a sad mistake, an echo, a blight that makes this world worse just by existing. All the souls in the world won’t fix that, no matter how many I have inside me. And even when I’m an empty shell, I’m a threat to everyone and everything. The only way to make this right is to… to erase myself, starting with your memories of me.”

Frisk started to chuckle. Asriel faltered a little, his serious expression changing to one of confusion.

“...Um. Are… are you ok?”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I was so worried about this.”

“Worried… a-about what?”

“I mean, I spent... decades, trying to figure out what I was going to do once I got here. Planning everything out, having this conversation in my head, over and over. Trying to account for everything, so that no matter what, I could make this all work. I knew I’d only get one good try at this, after all. It’s just… I always figured that getting you to kill me would be the hard part.”

Frisk grinned up at Asriel, who shrunk back from the movement.

“...Excuse me?”

“Dying. It’s the only thing I never tried.”

Asriel looked uncertain, the power he was wielding flickering and dying on his fingertips. He didn’t seem to know what to say, so Frisk continued.

“A long time ago, in a different timeline, you asked me why I went to the mountain in the first place. After all, the legend goes: ‘Travellers who climb Mt. Ebott are said to disappear.’” Frisk grimaced, willing their legs to work, slowly climbing to their feet. “Well… the truth is, I was counting on that. It’s a long story, but the short version is that… well, when you say ‘the only way to make this right is to erase myself’, I definitely know what you mean. I’ve had that feeling before. Climbing the mountain, wanting to disappear forever. But…”

Frisk took a deep breath. This was new. Frisk had never told anyone this story before.

“Well, this is why I know that Resets aren’t just caused by Determination. When I fell, I knew I was going to die. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, too. But as the darkness rose up and swallowed me, I could feel fire in my soul. I knew that… no matter what, I wouldn’t die. I couldn’t die. I refused. Just like now. Just like every time I’ve died, over all the timelines. I couldn’t accept death, I had to fight it. Even when my body was broken. And you’ve felt that too, right?”

Asriel looked down, unable to meet Frisk’s gase. “I… Yeah. When I first Reset. I thought that I could end it, but instead, I ended up clinging to my… I guess you could call it ‘life’, although it didn’t feel like it. I remember being furious with you, when you took that power away from me. It was the only thing I had left.” He glanced back up, and his eyes were shining wet. “I never knew… why didn’t you…?”

Frisk shrugged, wincing as various muscles and organs protested the movement. “I never found a good time to bring it up. Besides, between looking after your mum and dad, living through everyone’s attempts to kill or capture me, and then helping everyone get settled on the surface, I had a lot of other stuff to think about instead.”

“But now… you want me to kill you? To take your soul? Why?”

“Well, I’d prefer if you didn’t try to erase my memories of you. I had something else in mind.”

Asriel looked confused. Frisk couldn’t help but find the way he wrinkled his brow kind of cute, particularly in contrast to the demonic markings on his cheeks. It was weird, the things you noticed when you were literally dying on your feet.

“So, when you were a flower, you could only Reset back to the point you were created, right?”

“...Right.”

“Resets are tied to the person with the most Determination. They’re also tied to that person’s timeline, from the moment their Determination is awoken, until the end of their natural life. At least, that’s how it works for me. For a god… it should be possible to reach before that, provided it’s still your timeline.”

Asriel’s eyes widened as he began to see what Frisk was working towards.

“You’re not Flowey anymore. You’re Asriel again, whether you believe it or not. Some part of you has persisted, a single strand of fate. If you take my Determination… my Soul… if you take it back to the last time you were Asriel, then just maybe… we can save you. We can save the only Soul that will let you become whole again. Yours.”

Frisk reached out a hand. Asriel stared at it, his own fingers trembling by his side.

“Frisk… There’s no way you could possibly know for sure. If you give up your ability to Reset, and it doesn’t work…”

Frisk smiled. “I got to live a full life, Asriel. I made it to my 90’s, you know. I got real old, and wrinkly. I can’t say it was all positive, but I lived a life without regrets, except for this one. If it doesn’t work, and I die… Well, I died trying to set this one last thing right.”

Asriel slowly reached out his hand, and gently took Frisk’s hand in his own. It was warm.

“Are… are you sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything. I’ve been thinking about this for a hundred years, Asriel. I’m ready.”

Asriel merely nodded, tears welling up in his eyes.

Frisk smiled again, trying to look as reassuring as possible. And then, Frisk died.

Frisk collapsed forward into Asriel’s chest, and everything went dark. The familiar feeling of Determination flowed through Frisk, drowning out the world, and Frisk gathered all their strength and pushed, hard, willing the power away.

Everything… stopped.

***

“You cannot give up just yet… Chara! Stay Determined…”

The whole world is ending.

Asriel was kneeling in the flowers, cradling a human. Asgore and Toriel were reaching for the both of them, frozen in time. Asriel was falling apart at the edges, tears frozen on his face, cuts and wounds peppered across his arms and chest. It was the very last moment that Asriel had lived, paused.

Frisk could feel Asriel’s power, the power of all the souls in the underground. Frisk’s soul was being held out at the very edge of it, as far as Asriel could reach. Everything about this was wrong, as though the very fabric of reality itself was stretched to it’s absolute breaking point, and the world around Frisk was warped as a result.

The tragic scene, the end of a family. It advanced by a single second. The Asriel of the past dissolved into dust, his parent’s frozen in expressions of shock and anguish as both of their children collapsed onto the golden flowers. Asriel’s soul hung in the air, trembling and tearing. It was white, with a stain of red from Chara’s touch.

Frisk reached out as the soul cracked and twitched, and gently placed both hands on it, pulling it to their chest and holding it together. The shaking and cracking stopped. It was warm.

Frisk could feel Asriel’s fear. Chara’s anger. It seemed the two of them were mixed. There was no time to consider the consequences. Frisk pulled the soul into his own, the warmth flooding into their body.

Everything began to stretch and warp. Time, reality, Asriel, it was all calling Frisk back, away from this moment. The Dreemurrs, the flowers, it all stretched to a point on the horizon and pulled away sharply. Frisk felt like they were falling.

***

“Frisk! This is all just a bad dream. Please… wake up!”

***

=PART 6=

“...I don’t want to wake up, Frisk.” A familiar voice, a hoarse whisper.

“Huh…?” Frisk was groggy, their head hurt. Everything was blurry and swimming in and out of focus. They had ended up lying down, somehow. There were yellow flowers.

“I… I’ve had this dream so many times, I’ve honestly lost count.”

“A dream? Asriel?” Frisk had been holding the soul, keeping it safe, and then…

“Yeah. I dream that I’m not a flower anymore, that I’m me again, and that everything is finally ok. That it’s finally over. But... I always wake up, and then I’m back to being Flowey.”

Frisk shook the groggy blur from their vision, looking around the room. Asriel was sitting next to Frisk, hugging his knees and facing towards the window. Sunlight was pouring in, clear and bright, illuminating the familiar throne room.

“A-and the worst part is, every time I wake up from the dream, I can’t even be sad about it. Flowey can’t feel sad about things, not really. It’s like… I know I should want to scream, or cry, but I can’t... I can’t make a sound. And... And… I-I don’t…”

Frisk fought the urge to lie back down and sleep for a week, pushing aching limbs into service and managing to shuffle up next to Asriel.

“I don’t wanna wake up again, Frisk! I can’t!” Asriel buried his face between his knees and started to sob hoarsely. Frisk reached out, pulling Asriel up against them. He clutched at Frisk’s hands, and Frisk felt hot tears splash against the skin. “I can’t do it anymore…”

“Shh…” Frisk hugged Asriel tightly, struggling to keep their own voice even. “It’s ok. You’re not going to wake up this time. I promise, it’s real. We made it.”

Frisk held on tight as decades, maybe even centuries of fear and hurt poured out of Asriel. Once the tears started, they kept coming. Frisk just relaxed, resting their face against his neck, occasionally murmuring a word or two of encouragement or reassurance as Asriel apologised for being a crybaby in between sobs.

A few hours later, when someone finally checked the room, they found Frisk with Asriel resting his head in their lap, sleeping peacefully.

***

=PART 7=

Turns out, having your Soul absorbed and then flung across someone else’s timeline was hard work.

The Dreemurrs were reunited as a family, their differences set aside for a moment as all three of them huddled together in the afternoon sun. Toriel was quiet, hugging her long lost son tightly. Asriel was smiling, blushing, wriggling slightly in his mother’s vice-like grip. Asgore was a mess, laughing and crying, holding the two people he loved most, the ones he had been sure he’d never hold again. He was a sight to behold, a gigantic monster with gigantic emotions.

Frisk smiled, lay back on the flowers, and closed their eyes.

White sheets. Beige roof. Disinfectant smell.

A hospital?

Frisk stirred, sitting up in the bed and stretching. Something tugged at Frisk’s arm. Eugh, an IV drip. Frisk didn’t particularly enjoy needles, even at the best of times. Frisk glanced away from the tube in their arm, looking around the room. Toriel was asleep in a chair by the door, with Asriel reading some kind of book quietly on the floor by her feet, leaning against his mother’s legs. There was a second chair, obviously for Asgore, given the way it looked as though it had been slightly crushed, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. One of the tables in the corner was groaning under the weight of assorted flowers, cards, balloons, and at least a dozen plates of spaghetti.

Asriel jumped slightly at the sound of Frisk’s exhausted chuckle. He almost dropped the book, fumbling with it and looking up at Frisk with excitement.

“Ah! Fr-!” He stopped short, glancing back at his mother, then placing a finger over his maw, miming to be quiet. He eased himself gently off of her leg, being careful not to disturb her, and then stood, dusting himself off and tucking the book under one arm, creeping over to the bed. “Hey.” He whispered conspiratorially. “Welcome back!”

Frisk relaxed back onto the bed, smiling at Asriel and his shenanigans. “Hey yourself. Is Mum, uh, T-Toriel ok?” Frisk could barely raise their own voice above a whisper, it felt like their throat was stuffed with sandpaper.

“Oh, she’s fine. It’s kinda funny really. You’ve been asleep and she stayed up worrying. She only dozed off a little while ago, so we should let her rest.”

“Oh, ok. How long was I out? I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

Asriel blinked in incomprehension. “A what?”

“You know, a tr… N-nevermind. I’m really sore, is my point.”

“No wonder, you’ve been asleep for like two whole days.”

“Huh. Go figure.” Frisk would have to process that one and possibly freak out about it in a little while. “And you guys were all here, waiting for me to wake up? Along with most of the underground, it looks like. Which is weird, because…” Frisk sat up in bed, eyes wide. “Uh oh. I’m supposed to go establish first contact like… yesterday! I gotta get outta here, there’s a bunch of stuff I have to- Ah!” Frisk flailed weakly at Asriel as he pushed them back down onto the bed, shushing them gently.

“You need to keep resting, that’s all.”

“No, really! Like, monsters don’t even get basic hospital visitation rights for months after the barrier breaks. How did you guys even get in here?” Frisk begrudgingly settled back onto the bed, wincing as the IV shifted in their arm.

Asriel grinned mischievously. “Well, they couldn’t keep mum out. She broke a door on her way up here, just to prove a point. As for dad… well, he just kinda seemed to know what to say. Like he’d been practicing. He had to go, actually, they needed him for like, signing some things? He said to say hi for him when you woke up, though.”

That was… well. Asgore had remembered some things, and Toriel as well. Maybe they also remembered some of the treaties and agreements that had been brokered between humans and monsters, way back in the… next ten years or so?

Time travel was hard enough to keep straight when everything was on a fixed rail. But now, things were rapidly diverging from the established norm, and all Frisk could do, was…

Well, relax. Live a normal life, maybe.

“Frisk?”

“Huh?” Frisk snapped out of their musings. Asriel had sat down on the edge of the bed without them noticing. It was incredible how tired Frisk was, even with two days of sleep.

“What do we do now, Frisk?”

“Well… I guess, first of all, I get better. I mean, you did kinda stab me.”

“Heh… S-sorry.” At least Asriel had the decency to look embarrassed.

“But, after that? I guess, I don’t really know. Everything’s different now, it looks like. It’s almost nice, to not know exactly what’s coming.”

Asriel nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap. “Is… is that what you wanted?”

“All I wanted was for you to have a happy ending along with the rest of us.”

He smiled, rubbing one of his arms awkwardly. “Sheesh… You’ve done so much for me, for all of us, Frisk. But… we’ve barely met. I feel like we’re just strangers, still. I don’t even know how to thank you…”

“Asriel.” Frisk was as firm as they could be, causing the goat to look up at them. “You’re the only other one who knows what it’s like. You’re the first person I met in the underground, even if I didn’t know it was you. Every time I succeeded, every time I failed, and all the moments in between, you were always right there, taunting or encouraging. Even between resets, when everything else fell away, you still knew, you still saw.”

Frisk looked down, gripping the thin bedsheet in both hands. “You… you told me so many things. Secrets, encouragement, threats. Don’t kill, and don’t be killed. And all the time, you looked so sad, and hurt, but you never asked for help. And I knew, that was because… you were the one who needed it most. I needed to do this. I had to save you. For me, and because… You deserved better. You being ok now, that’s all the thanks I need.”

“Oh, child…” Frisk jumped a little as Toriel sat down on the side of the bed as well, looking very tired as she rubbed the top of their head. Had she snuck up on them, or was Frisk just that out of it?

“You’ve come a very long way, haven’t you?”

“M-mum… I…”

“You’ve given me another chance to have a family, and from what I’ve seen, from the echos that I remember, you’ve come from another world to do it. I wanted to be here when you woke up, so that I could say thank you.” She smiled at Frisk, taking one of their hands in her own.

“It, uh, it was the least I could do.” Frisk blushed a little, unused to such behaviour.

“Wait. That’s twice you’ve called her Mum.” Asriel peeked around Toriel’s side. “Does that mean that we’re a family, now?”

Toriel smiled down at her son and put an arm around him. “Of course. That is, if Frisk wants it to be.”

They both smiled at Frisk.

The timeline was drifting. Different, now. Everything was changing. There was no plan, no impossible goal to overcome. Frisk was adrift in a sea of possibilities.

Somewhere along the line, Frisk had lost track of the subjective years they had lived. But, chronologically, they had to be around 200 years old at this point. And Asriel? Maybe hundreds of years older than that.

Asriel had absorbed Frisk’s soul, and then released it for a single moment, decades ago. Frisk had held Asriel’s soul inside themselves for a few moments, and then given it back. Both of them had been touched by a red stain, the soul of another human from long ago, and Frisk suspected that neither of them had heard the last of that.

Somewhere out there, Asgore was being King, forging a new path. There was work to be done, old differences to be put aside, new lives to be made for humans and monsters.

An uncertain future loomed over Frisk for the first time in decades.

Frisk smiled back at his new family. A whole family. They would have to go make that future for themselves, together.