by GR Griffin
Returning a sly smile, Toriel waved for her ex-husband to come closer. She leaned in his ear and whispered, “I believe he is referring to you, Dreemurr.”
His eyebrows raised. “Me?” he muttered just as the frog boatman turned and waggled his eyebrows. “I mean, I’m most flattered.” His response came with another chuckle, this one awkward.
The boatman nodded and returned to rowing the oar similar to those guys over in Venice.
“At this rate, we might be able to make it to the next village before the rain starts,” he explained. “There’s an inn where we can wait for the rain to pass, then I’ll take you the rest of the way to the bridge leading to Highkeep Enclave.”
Toriel looked up at the clear sky through the fingers of black trees. “I do not see any clouds…”
The couple had told the boatman that they were new around these parts, and he was in a good enough mood to trust them, or at least humour them. “You might not see it, but you’ll feel it when it starts – trust me.” He gave the oar another wade through the murky waters. “We don’t want to be caught out here when it rains.”
Onwards he paddled. With every push of the oar, he brought the husband and wife that one bit closer to the castle, and to confronting the monster who wants to take their child away.
Neither of them could not wait to meet this fellow.
* * *
Lord Grill nursed his cup of steaming coffee. The caffeine was good going down, the second best thing to happen to him all day.
He retraced his steps around the manor, just starting to gain his bearings. He looked for familiar decorations adorning the halls that acted like waypoints to some degree.
He found his way back to the quarters he had been delegated, eager to get some peace and quiet.
The door was closed. As Grill reached for the handle, the door suddenly swung open on him. The lord jumped back, saving his coffee from spilling.
Obstructing the doorway stood two skeletons and a short, yellow dinosaur lady. The short skeleton in the blue hoodie glanced up and down the hall.
“Anything familiar?” Papyrus asked.
“Nope, nothin’,” Sans answered. He turned to Lord Grill. “Hey, how’s it goin’?”
The grizzly bear stumbled on his words. “I, uh, am going just fine. How did you get in here?”
Sans shrugged, half-closing his eyes. “I have no idea myself,” he responded. “I guess you could say…”
Papyrus saw what was coming. “Don’t you dare, Sans.”
“I only know the bear necessities.”
Ba dum pish!
“Sans!” Papyrus shrieked. “I don’t get it,” Papyrus quietly remarked.
“Guys, can we move on, please?” Alphys asked.
“Sure thing, Al.” Sans turned to the lord of the deceased Bjornliege Manor and bid, “Later, dude” as he closed the door.
Lord Grill had never been this confused since the time both he and that guy flaunting that pyramid scheme fell into that vat of sticky toffee.
He grabbed the handle and twisted it. He pulled the door ajar to find his room deserted. Nothing had been tampered with and there was no sign of anyone entering or leaving. They were gone.
So confused. Grill’s thoughts so jumbled. Nothing made sense these past couple of days.
There was one thing he could say at that exact moment.
“That pun was actually pretty funny.” And sipped his coffee.
Chapter 21: Reality Check
Those words Vail said bounced around in Fleck's skull as easily as sound echoed within the empty caves.
"It should've been you," he said.
"It should've been you." Every syllable spoken with pure sincerity.
"It should've been you." Every syllable spoken with pure disgust.
For the most part of an hour, Vail had both hounded them and messed with their head; however, it was those four words that struck Fleck the most.
The worst part about that accusation was… the thought had crossed their mind once, almost like Vail had played part-time fortune teller.
If Fleck had the chance to trade their life for Asriel's, would they? Could they?
Half of them thought so. That side of their heart felt they could live a life of solitude knowing that they had given someone else their future back. They could sleep easy on a night knowing they had done a great deed, and had brought happiness to others at the cost of their own.
The other side of their heart, however, felt that it could not give up the surface. Asriel sacrificed his own future to give the entire Underground theirs.
Just thinking about it brought an ironic smile to Fleck's face. The exact same dilemma must have swam through his mind as the two of them stood face to face at the end.
And then there was that one time from two weeks ago.
That one night Fleck jerked awake at the whistling sound of heavy gale. Regardless of the blanket of moon and stars, the world was restless that night. Trees and bushes danced outside the walls, rustling loud enough for them to hear. Through bleary vision and heavy eyelids, Fleck turned over and groaned upon reading three in the morning on the clock. They sat up in bed, the sheets rolled of their shoulders; there was an arid dryness in their mouth that stretched to their chapped lips.
Fleck crept out of bed, tiptoed into the hallway and felt their way to the kitchen. They had just about adjusted to the darkness by the time they got themself a glass of water.
Moving into their new home took faster than expected. They estimated – considering that monsters had just returned to a world run by humans – to be properly housed within months, maybe even years, but managed to secure in cosy place in mere days. Asgore and Toriel had just about finished unpacking, having moved their valuables out from the Underground. Asgore's possessions were easier to move than Toriel's since he resided closer to the exit than she did.
Sans and Papyrus had the same luck, finding another place in a nearby town. The skeleton brothers' new home was an exact replica of their old one in Snowdin, down to its snow-covered roof, almost like they picked up their previous house and plopped in down in the first vacant plot they found.
Undyne and Alphys took a tad bit longer, but found their new home close to the sea. Their moving in experience was the shortest out of all of them since all of Undyne's possessions perished in the fire, sparing an extra pair of hands in which to help her girlfriend move from the lab.
Nobody had any idea how Mettaton managed to snag a mansion, or that multi-million dollar showbiz contract, or that other multi-million dollar showbiz contract that came with another mansion in the Philippines.
The rest of the inhabitants were just as mixed as they were unique. Some moved out; some were still waiting for openings in the market; some were in the process of moving out; and some were still comfortable in the Underground.
Everything changed. Everyone changed a little; all except Sans. There was an air about him that had not adjusted to the surface, almost like he was still living with a rocky roof over his head. He was still lazy, yet taking jobs wherever he could find them; he had ample opportunities to try new activities, yet stuck to what he did best; the entire monster kingdom was free, yet he did not seem to care very much, as if it were all for naught.
As if it could all be taken away in an instant.
As if he were waiting for something.
Fleck sipped their water before they set it down on their bedside table and climbed back into bed; the sheets held trace amounts of their warmth. As they sat there, they recalled the Underground, and the friends they made, and the victories they gained, and the one they left behind.
If only they had a second chance. A way to make things right. Better. For everyone.
Of course, there was something they had not yet tried…
Resetting.
They imagined it: starting their adventure with a clean slate. Meeting everyone – Flowey, Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, Monster Kid, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Asgore – all over agai
n. Journeying through the Underground, from the ruins all the way to the castle. Battling and befriending all who opposed them.
Describing the power to start again was complicated, like having access to a great big rewind button; except is wasn't a button, more some kind of sensation that felt its way through time.
They closed their eyes and saw what could only be described as the button: a visual representation that they could comprehend. The reset button, hovering in the void of black. All they had to do was reach out, press it, and boom; instead of waking up in their bed, they would awaken on another bed – a one made of golden flowers; and embark on their adventure all over again.
Was it really that easy? Because it sounded too easy to be true.
Ideas floated amongst the sea of blackness: things they could do differently; the changes they could make; the other things they could say and do given they now had a second chance.
Find a way to save Asriel?
Heck, if they could really do this whenever they wanted, then what was stopping them from doing something… drastically different? If their determination would bring them back again and again, then what were the consequences? Was there really a downside to all this as long as they could, at any time, wipe it all away with one press of a button?
They reached for the reset button, then stopped.
A horrible feeling chewed them up inside, telling them that this was wrong. The feeling manifested itself into an imaginary pair of eyes, watching their every move, waiting for them to act, and ready to judge all their actions.
By doing this, they would be erasing this outcome where the Underground was set free. Did that mean that everything that had happened from the beginning until now was synthetic? That nothing mattered? That they fought against a god and saved existence itself just so they could take it all back with the press of a button? Their victory tasted a lot bitterer just thinking about it.
Not to mention, this was the exact same power that consumed Flowey, and practically destroyed him – turned him into a thing of nightmares. A soulless creature lost control and caused massive pain, misery, and death in the Underground. How much worse could it be if a human being got corrupted by that power?
If Fleck pushed that reset button, would they be taking the first step to becoming Flowey? Into becoming the real monster he had become? Into becoming the very thing they sought to stop?
Fleck opened their eyes. They did not see the gloomy, rocky cave of the Underground, but the tidy, warm interior of their bedroom. The reset button was gone, yet remained faintly visible in their retina.
And what did Fleck do next?
They lay down, pulled the sheets over their shoulders, and went back to sleep.
They woke up the next day when they could have woken up to a new adventure. Ate their breakfast when they could have practiced talking to the dummy. Went to school when they could have went to Toriel's home. Had lunch when they could have been solving Papyrus's puzzles. They came home and did homework and played for a bit and watched some TV, and yet the alternative of what would have happened had they reset lingered in their mind.
Every night, the thought crossed them.
And every night, they chose to rest their head on their pillow.
Fleck sighed. It was pointless pondering about what ifs and what could have been. What mattered now was that they were trapped under Black Ice Mountain, being hunted by a monster who deeply despised reality, for a reason they had yet to figure out.
Pushing his words to the back of their mind, Fleck moved forward, down the only stretch of tunnel from the room with the giant, shattered mirror. Ever since that near-hypnotise experience, since destroying the illusion of a perfect ending, Vail had remained strangely absent for the past fifteen minutes. That guy sure was angry though, mad that Fleck chose reality over his deluded version of contentment.
The tunnel went on and on, left and right, up and down with no deviating route to choose from. Like it or not, they were still trapped within the web of complexity that Vail had planned and created over the course of many years. If they were to escape, the only way was to beat Vail at his own game. Somehow.
The further down the rabbit hole they went, the darker it got. The clusters of gleaming rocks above began to decline in their numbers, dimming the once bright passageways. The tunnel walls got more decrepit with jagged cracks and littering with loose debris.
As they turned the next corner, Fleck found an abandoned mine cart dead ahead, lying dormant on an old track. It was the old fashioned half barrel on four iron wheels with a handbrake and a light on the front. It was stationed at the foot of a slope.
Looking down the drop, it continued a short ways down before being blocked off by a haphazard fence of wooden planks. Fleck headed down and inspected it closer, finding the timbers to have worn over time. The nails holding it together looked badly degraded; sawdust and rust being the only things keeping it standing.
They took a peek through the gaps. The tunnel and the track continued down for roughly twenty metres before disappearing into darkness.
Fleck tested the timbers. A little shaky, but holding up strong despite the weakening over time. The wall refused to fall no matter how much force they applied. It would require something much stronger in order to knock it down.
That was when the mine cart came back into play. How cool would it be to ride in one of those Indiana Jones style?
The human child headed back up. They went to grab the cart by the edge when they stopped, thinking back to their train ride a mere hour-and-a-half ago. Could they really subject themselves to another ride into the unknown? For all they knew, the cart probably could lean sideways on them, or clear giant holes in the bottom of the island.
Pushing these thoughts beside Vail's piercing words, they planted a foot at the bottom and pushed themself over and into the mine cart. A few pebbles of rock and coal mingled at the bottom along with mounds of black dust that clung to their boots.
Fleck grabbed hold on the handbrake, feeling a second thought creep in like this was a bad idea. The tunnel ahead was sealed off for a reason.
They pulled on the handle and disengaged the brake. As the stiff wheels lurched forward, the lone light spurred to life, flicking at every wheel rotation. Slowly, the cart crawled those five feet forward, the calm before the big dipper. Fleck began to pick up speed the moment the front wheels then hit the drop; the lamp went to full blast, illuminating the way ahead.
They ducked down and braced themself as they charged toward the barricade. As the mine cart crashed through, the rider felt only the slightest tremor through the cold steel.
The tunnel ahead stretched out for ten metres. Gems shone white. Trickles of water glistened silver. The track began to deviate through a twist of tracks as the walls closed in around them. Sparks flew upwards from the corroded tracks; moments of ear-scraping scratching against loud rumbling. The grinding of wheels broken by the regular click-click of the links.
The tracks went on for what seemed like an eternity, the route showing no signs of ending. Miles covered within minutes.
He returned.
"So, I was thinking…" Fleck suddenly turned around to find Vail sat, with his arms folded, on the back edge. He appeared an apparition in the swaying luminescence. "I've got just the perfect additions to make this ride more interesting. A couple of water slides, one where you hit the shallow water and it all shoots up at the sides – I don't know what that's called. Maybe a corkscrew or a loop-de-loop – how about a cork-de-loop. I'm sure nobody's ever thought of that"
Just the suggestion made Fleck's stomach perform a cork-de-loop; they had barely gotten over the crazy ride through the Shattered Zone. They did not want to even think about rollercoasters for at least a year.
Vail snapped his fingers at a sudden though. "Oh, how about some imaginary bad guys chasing after you on other mine carts?" he said. "That would be exciting, with a little added neon for effect. A camera at the big dipper to take the souve
nir picture – free of charge, of course – and…"
He stopped midsentence. The pleasantries dropped from his features. "Oh, wait. That's right." He finally made eye-contact with the human child, and it was not the friendly kind either. "You don't like fantasy, apparently. You prefer reality." He leaned in closer, digging his stare deeper while punctuating ever word he said next. "Uneventful, predictable, disappointing, boring reality."
In the next dip of light, Vail became one with the shadows and vanished.
"By the way, since you're not using this…" Vail's voice drew the human to the front. Now he saw beside the lamp, pointing nonchalantly at the handbrake. "Can I have it?"
In the single second that follow, Fleck responded with a confused murmur.
Taking their silence for a yes, Vail said, "Thanks," grabbed the handbrake with one hand, then ripped it out as effortlessly as yanking off a plaster, giving out a brief, metallic snap. He held the handle above his head; the components that made up the inside dangled out the fresh opening. Vail tossed the handle over Fleck's head only to catch it on the other side of the cart like there were two of them playing catch. "Have fun…" this Vail said as his grin returned. His glance shifted to the route ahead. "And you might want to duck."
Fleck pulled away from Vail and caught the low hanging rock just in time to drop beneath it, keeping their head firmly attached to their neck. Finding their footing again, they did not bother turning to see if he was still there, because he wasn't.
They glanced down at the stump that was once the trusty handbrake, the solitary component capable of halting this half-a-ton bathtub of pure steel, gone. The tunnel continued to appear from the darker as the cart showed no signs of slowing down.
Fleck gripped the sides as tightly as they could. Runaway cart! The walls zoomed past like sharp blades, ready the slice them up if they tried to jump out.
The cart exited the stretch of cramped tunnel, revealing that getting on it in the first place might not have been the best idea after all. The bending tracks ahead, built atop a matchstick framework of timbers, did not appear too stable. All of it surrounded by an infrastructure of cranes, scaffolds, ladders and walkways. This section of mine may have been abandoned even before the civil war started. The entire light in the area held a faint blue tint.
