Chapter Text

Who Else Is Alive?

Sans followed the Myrrhils to the estate garden, hiding in the shade of a tall green bush. He caught sight of them occupying the benches in a serious discussion, and overheard this:  

“This convocation only showed how cowardly the families have become,” said the Twig Monster. “How quick they were to deny the Lady Kovac's claims when they should’ve addressed them head on. I’m starting to think they’d forgotten their responsibility to the rest of the world.” 

“They’re only afraid and right to be,” the Eagle Monster replied. “Maybe it was too rash to share the state of the Northern Border when even we are still unsure what’s behind it.” 

“Rash or not, they ought to know the problem exists,” Jaron Myrrhil said. “Right now, I’m more concerned about something else.” 

He stood and started to pace. “Everyone overlooked Lillie’s statement that one of the attackers was some freak of nature. Neither Human nor Monster. Does that remind you of anything?” 

The Eagle Monster stroked his chin with his feathered fingers. “The last time I heard of anything like that…”

A dark look hung over his face. “Was the nightmarish Human-Monster chimera experiment the Ignis dei did over a decade ago.” 

A chill crept up Sans’ spine. He listened more intently.

“I won’t forget how many carcasses we had to dispose of after that laboratory was seized,” the Eagle Monster continued. “You think somebody tried it again?”    

“It’d be better if they only did the exact same thing...” Jaron put his fist to his lips, pensive. “Do you think the Everest girl knows anything?” 

“She doesn’t look like she knows half the things that went on in there,” the younger Myrrhil said. 

“Frankly, Ragnar, neither do we,” his father chided. “I think I want to have a talk with her. See if she has any inklings as to what we’re facing.” 

He stopped pacing, then said in a low voice, “And if it has any connection to Adam Everest’s demise…”

An impulse surged through Sans that would’ve led him to reveal himself, but he was prevented by two frantic guards that passed. They caught the Myrrhils’ attention as well, who stopped them to ask what happened. 

Many guards were missing, they said. But as far as they knew, none have left the premises.  

Sans followed quietly as someone yelled at them from the river, where they met another group of guards who found traces of the missing ones. Discarded boots, helmets, knives, guns—all of which found leading to the water’s edge. 

“You mean to tell me they all decided to go for a swim and haven’t come back?” he heard Jaron say, incredulous. 

Sans tried to get a closer look, until he caught movement from the corner of his eye. A split-second of flight from the trees followed by a quiet splash in the river. He moved closer to scan the water’s surface. Something was there and he knew it. Its sinister intentions reeked in the air.

If it wouldn’t show itself, Sans would make it. His eye lit up, challenging whatever power they had with a brief show of his own, charging the surrounding area with it.

The shadows under the currents drew back. He squinted to see what exactly it was, but his view was blocked by a piece of paper floating by. 

Then another. And another. And another.

Several sheets of what he could tell were research documents oddly came in succession. All of them were about the SOUL.

He recalled—Frisk wanted to look at these. 

Sans followed their trail, page after page. He must have taken about ten paces before it ended where the grass parted in the most unnatural way, like something had been dragged violently over it. 

The only thing that kept him from losing his mind to fear of the worst was the sight of tracks nearby.

Sans knelt by them. Two people had been here. One larger than the other. Both ran away. The tracks led away from there, disappearing as soon as Sans reached the back fences of the garden—to a gate with a lock forced open with magic. 

There he found the only clue he needed, as he picked up a golden shoe. 

The next second, Sans teleported up the mountain. 

It struck him immediately—the chilling wind, the malicious intent thick in the air. No birds sung, no trees swayed. The grimness of it made him fully aware of the vibrations on the earth, telling him there must be dozens—even hundreds more people hiding here. For whatever purpose, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but alarm surged through his bones, teleporting him to each and every part of the mountain trail at lightning speed. 

At the next corner, he rounded out of the woods, skidding back to the edge of a cliff to face the trees—because he was not alone right now. 

Realizing they’d been caught, his pursuers emerged from the darkness. Snarling, growling, creeping towards him. 

There were four of them. Large creatures with the face of a wolf and the body of a lion. Their eyes were white and empty; their gray fur was so wiry and unkempt they looked like splinters on their thick skin. With bared fangs, they struck their razor-sharp claws on the ground with every step. If Sans didn’t know any better, these things were nothing more than feral beasts. But there was no denying it—those SOULs belonged to a Monster’s. 

Whatever reduced them to this, he couldn’t think about. One of them pounced and for a moment he feared its weight coming down on him alone would crush him. 

Sans wrapped it in magic and it roared, in anger then in agony, as he threw it over the cliff.  

In shock of his own actions, pure reflex made him teleport away when the other three charged in retaliation. He reappeared behind them, summoning several bones bursting from the ground beneath the beasts, entangling them in a cage. 

An overpowering chill ran up his body. There was one more. 

Sans turned around and he was face to face with wide jaws ready to bite his skull off. 

It released an howling outcry before it reached him, falling to the the ground. As it convulsed in pain, Sans noticed it had been shot in the eye. He turned to the origin of the bullet and spotted a hooded Human figure holding a gun, moving swiftly behind the trees. 

Bright blue entered his periphery as something flew past him. Donning a pair of grand, blue wings, a Butterfly Monster arrived, picked up the creature that attacked him from the ground, and despite her thin appendages she flung its whole mass at the others, throwing them all off the edge.

One of them managed to claw itself back up before it did and sprinted violently towards them. 

A Mouse Monster then landed between it and Sans. Raising his arm, a huge rock broke from the ground and floated above their heads. Sans panicked. 

“hey, wai—!”

The Mouse Monster used shot the rock right above the creature's skull. Its body went flat on the ground and didn’t move anymore. 

Sans could do nothing but watch it disintegrate into dust particles swept off by the wind. 

The Mouse Monster turned to him. “Why’d you try to stop me? Did you think it wouldn't kill us?”

“no, but come on—”

“They have no concept of mercy.” Under his anger, something akin to regret flashed. “Showing any won’t make a difference.”  

Sans blinked several times—struggling to grasp the situation he found himself in, as the three figures that arrived remained tense, alert as the surroundings seemed to grow far more restless. 

“We have to move,” the hooded Human—a woman, by her voice—said. She turned to the Butterfly Monster. “Faida, can you lead him out of here?” 

“whoa, hold on a minute,” Sans said. “mind tellin’ me what the hell is going on? who are you anyway?” 

“Trust me, friend," the Mouse said. "You should escape rather than waste time on introductions. It’s not safe for anyone to be here.” 

“yeah, go figure,” Sans snapped, “but i'm not leavin' ‘til i find my friend so we can both high-tail it out. now, i’m gonna cut to the chase—have any of you seen a teenage girl, ‘bout this high, with a roundish face, dark brown hair and gold eyes?”  

Their faces broke with shock. As if in reflex, the two Monsters looked at the hooded figure, who had gone more rigid than a stone.

“You can’t be serious,” she said.

That reaction took Sans aback too.  

Pure horror bled through her voice. “She can’t be here.” 

The Mouse Monster stammered, “R—commander, wait, we don’t know if that’s—“

“who the hell are you?” Sans demanded. “you. lady. quit hiding and tell me exactly how you know who i’m talking about.”

An assault from behind caught Sans off-guard. The Butterfly Monster, Faida, locked him in her multiple limbs and began to wrap him tightly in silk. 

“Commander, go. Stick with the plan, I’ll look for her. Please, just go—“

The Butterfly Monster gasped. Silk fell to the ground as her hands had gone empty. 

Sans teleported in front of the hooded woman and with magic blew her cloak off. 

He wished he knew the world would change after that. 

“you gotta be twisting up my spaghetti…”

They made it deep inside the mountain, beyond forests of large trees and rows of steep hills, until they finally lost those creatures’ tails along a spiky maze of rocks. There, they entered a thin opening between the boulders leading to a hidden cavern. When he set her down on her feet, that was when she noticed she’d lost one of her shoes.  

Frisk took in the surroundings. It was dim; the only light came from the crack on the wall. She spotted the remains of a campfire and signs people were here. 

The sorcerer continued to peer through the cave entrance, eyeing for anything that followed. 

Frisk went to his side. “What are they?” 

“SOUL wraiths,” he replied. “Prehistoric Monsters without physical forms. Devourers of SOULs.” 

A swift wisp of a shadow passed them. He pulled Frisk away from the entrance. 

“They are nothing like the Monsters we know now. The only goal of their existence is to hunt for SOULs; their own have nothing but the hunger for another.” 

Frisk could hear the echoes of the wraiths’ vicious screeching from here. 

“They were supposed only stay in the deepest places in the world, but now they’re here. Under another person’s will.” 

A sullen look took over his features. “They won’t be the worst of our problems soon, though. Come, there's a way for you to escape from here.”

Beckoning her, he went further inside the cave. Frisk had no idea where to start with this, but had enough clues to know waiting would not get her any answers.

“You're Gabor Kovac, aren't you?” she asked.

He halted. 

“Are you going to tell me what's going on?” 

Gabor looked at her over his shoulder. He hesitated to reply, turning away from her when he did.

“Every person in that building is about to be killed.” 

All of Frisk’s blood rushed out of her body. 

“This whole mountain is infested with the people here to do that.” He clicked his tongue. “I just never expected SOUL wraiths, of all things, to be part of this plan.” 

Frisk had a million questions she still wanted to ask, but the most dire one had to come first. 

“If they're going to be attacked, shouldn't you warn them?” 

He didn’t answer.  

Her fear shot off the roof. “You have to tell them to get out of there!" 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“I have people I love still—!”

He grabbed her when she tried to run out. “So do I, but this is just what they want! Part of this is a trap laid for us!” 

She quit struggling, processing his words. “Who’s…‘they’?” 

His lips formed a thin line. 

Frisk continued to search him for answers. “And who's ‘us’?" 

Slowly, Gabor put his hands on her shoulders, leveling his gaze with hers. 

“Listen. There are many things happening out there that I cannot let people like you get involved in.” 

He took her hands in a firm hold. “I will do everything to get them out safely. So do me this favor and leave while you still can. There is a tunnel at the end of this cave that leads to the riverbank. That’s your best chance of escape.”

“No, I can’t go,” Frisk protested. “My friend won’t leave unless he knows I’m—“ 

‘Frisk.’ 

Chara broke her out of her panic. 

‘The skeleton can take care of himself. He has better chances of finding you. If you know what’s good for you, do what he says.’ 

He sounded really tired. 

Of course; he took over earlier. 

The reminder grounded her. Terrifying as leaving Sans was, he was right. And she should not ask any more of him. 

A hard decision made, Frisk said to Gabor, “Sans the Skeleton. If you find him, please tell him where I’ve been.” 

She recalled who else was there and knew what more needed to be said. “And your mother, too. Save her. Let her know you’re alive.” 

He held her gaze, then nodded once. 

The sound of rapid footsteps approached. All the hairs on Gabor’s body rose. 

He pushed Frisk behind the cave rocks. He shushed her before she could make a sound. Covering her mouth, she did as told as he gestured for her to go. She crawled, slow and soundless. Keeping herself hidden in the darkness of the cave. 

What she didn’t expect was Gabor to meet two people, out of breath, who stumbled inside. 

He asked them, “What happened?” 

“There’s way more than we expected. We had to fall back,” a man said. 

“What about you?” another one spoke. A woman. “Why’d you head back here?”

Frisk froze. 

‘What are you doing?’ 

“SOUL wraiths?!” the woman exclaimed.

“Damn these pieces of shit,” the man followed. 

“We have to hurry,” Gabor continued. “The best thing we can do now is eliminate every threat we can to give them a chance to run.”

“They're too many,” the man replied. “Even if we try this whole plan will still be a bust because that’s just what they intended us to do.” 

When she had listened enough, Frisk could no longer feel the cold rock under her hands and knees.

“Those two…” she mumbled. “I know those two…”

“What do we do then?” Gabor pressed. “If we wait to move until the others give their opening it’ll already be too late.” 

“Then we’re moving now,” said the man. “We won't win this one, but there’s a good chance we can still save some lives. Let’s regroup with Rosie and get this info to her.” 

The sound of flesh sliding and hitting against rock was soft, but it was heard. 

Gabor stiffened. 

“What's with you?” the woman asked. 

The man lifted his hand and silenced them. “Did you have company?”

With wide strides, he approached that corner fast. 

“Lieutenant, stop,” Gabor said.

“Since when did you call me ‘lieutenant’?”

“Don’t—!”

He grabbed behind the rocks and pulled someone up by the collar. 

And froze. 

Frisk hung from Marcus’ hold, wide eyes staring back into his own. 

Rita’s hands flew to her mouth. 

All hearts stopped. 

With trembling hands, slowly, Marcus set her down. Frisk's feet made gentle contact with the floor and they failed her. She crumpled to the ground, but her eyes never left his. 

Shaky breath bounced off the walls. Within them, the world had gutted apart. 

When she regained feeling in her body, Rita shoved Gabor against the wall, caging him there with her arm against his neck.

“Her? You brought her here?” 

Gabor struggled against her chokehold. “This is the safest place I know.”

“You have any idea what you just did?” 

“Believe me, I have every idea !” He shoved her off him. “But what was I supposed to do? She was about to be devoured by the wraiths!” 

“Who else is alive…” 

The barest of voices came out of her. With it, holding every bit of desolation a SOUL could have. 

“Marcus…Rita…tell me,” she choked out. “ Who else is alive?” 

Nothing could break the icy grip that held everyone in that cave. 

Marcus had barely a mind to respond. Only saying, more to himself, “You shouldn't be here…” 

“Tell me,” Frisk demanded.

Silence was an answer in itself. 

Her fists clenched, bunching up her dress. “You…you said her name…Is…is s-she…” Frisk swallowed. “Is she here?”

Hot tears spilled down her face; with them, furious sobs raising her voice with the words, “Is my mother here?” 

The force of her weeping shook her whole body, too much to be contained. Violent hiccups and cries filled their ears and no one could speak. The air in the room grew thicker with each passing second even as they only watched and waited until she calmed. 

First to find himself, Marcus said, “This doesn’t have to be harder than it needs to.”

“I don’t see how it gets easier.” 

With that sharp-tongued hiss, they felt the several years that passed since that night.

She looked at the two soldiers, all at once pained and aggrieved. “You can’t ask me to pretend this didn't happen.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Marcus clapped back.  

The pang of resentment shot through her system. She had just about enough of that. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears overflowing.

When they opened, she glared at them all. 

Marcus and Rita jolted when she slipped past them.  

Gabor grabbed her before she sprinted past the exit. Frisk thrashed and kicked against him and he covered her mouth trying to keep her screaming controlled. 

“Quiet down, do you want to draw anyone here?!” 

Frisk stopped but continued to struggle; eyes wild with the thousand emotions that came from learning the greatest loss of her life had been completely overwritten, shattering the world she knew all over again. 

Hardening his resolve, Marcus went to them. “Kovac, watch the perimeter. We'll handle this." 

He took her despite her continuous flailing, carrying her back and setting her against a rock. 

“What’s your plan, huh? ” he snapped. “What will you do when you see her? Do you think it’ll accomplish anything?” 

Frisk’s writhing grew more violent. 

“Listen. We didn't do any of this because we wanted to. If we had a choice we wouldn't have let any of it happen,” Marcus said. “But I won't allow anyone put it all to waste—even if it's you. ”

Rita grabbed his shoulder. “Marcus, stop, you’re hurting her!”

When he loosened his grip, Frisk stopped moving all the same, tears in an endless stream.

“I say this for your own good. If you don't want this to end up like that day, you'll leave. Right now.” 

Frisk recovered some bearing of reason, to challenge Marcus’ strong vehemence with her own.

“I was the last one to see him,” she cried. “I was the very last one he saw.” 

Both soldiers took in her raw gaze and the awful truth in it.  

“You'll never imagine…what that was like for me. I know I'll never have a day like that again.”

Plenty of emotions flashed in their eyes. Words failed them.    

All strength and resistance gone, Frisk begged, succumbing to her sobs.

“Please let me see her. Please…Because I once wanted to die too…just so I could again.” 

In that moment, they both looked more Human than soldier, their hearts bearing itself on their faces. 

Rita made Marcus move aside, so she could hold Frisk’s shoulders far more gently. 

“I know none of this is fair to you. It has never been fair to you since the beginning.” 

Fixing her hair away from her face, she cupped Frisk’s cheek. “I wish we could grant this to you. Truly, I do. But now is not the time,” she said. “Please. Do as we say and get out of here.” 

Rita looked into her eyes, conveying the best of intentions. “It’s both for your sake and hers.” 

Frisk’s heart sank. She grasped more to those words than she wanted to. 

“She won't come for me after, will she?”

The pain in their faces told her the truth. 

Frisk fought to hold herself together. “If this might be the last time I’ll get to see her, let me do it now.” 

Frisk, stop! 

Chara yelled. And he had been yelling for minutes. 

He yelled for her to get a grip. To calm down. To regain some sense and realize just what she’s trying to do. But no matter how much he tried, his voice was muted. An unseen force kept him from reaching her even in the mindspace. Frisk’s mind was somewhere out of touch with his, and he had never been more desperate for her to come back.

Because they had to run now.

“Please…" Frisk sobbed, hugging herself tight. “Give her back to me…”

“Freya…” Rita couldn’t continue. 

Even from a distance, it was difficult for Gabor to watch the scene. Knowing now exactly what the stakes were between them, he could only think of what might be, when eventually he had to face his own mother, knowing he could not promise to come back to her either.   

A strange ringing suddenly pierced his ears. It sent him on high alert. 

The other two heard it too and moved in the blink of an eye. 

Marcus and Rita grabbed Frisk and took cover behind the rocks. Gabor protected them from the explosion above with a magic barrier. 

The destruction forced them out of the cave and in shambles, all but one of them started running. 

Marcus yelled, “Freya!”

She was down on all fours, among the debris hitting the ground.

Even if instinct told her to run, she couldn’t get up. With every pound of earth like a stab in her chest, she could find no power to. Weighed down by the thought of how cruel the world must be to her, if she was fated to find a loved one in the middle of a massacre.

In despair, in time with the next explosion, Frisk wailed.