Chapter Text
Compared to most other things, school wasn’t a whole lot of fun.
Having to sit still and stay quiet for long stretches of time was… taxing, even miserable. The longer the day was, the more it felt like her body buzzed and shook, demanding something to do, though she wasn’t quite sure why.
The only reason she put up with it at all was because her mother said it was important. And, well—she loved her mother. If her mom thought it mattered, then it must’ve been technically important, even if Chara didn’t fully understand how.
Still, when school let out, she was always the first one bolting through the door. She’d breathe out a tense breath, then draw in a fresher, freer one, as though she’d been holding her lungs hostage all day. While she lingered in that small ritual, the other children of Gardentown streamed past her on their way home.
A voice tugged her attention. “Hey, Chara… may I get my pencil back?”
Chara blinked, turning to find Noelle standing there, looking a little hesitant.
“Pencil? I don’t—oh. Oh, yes, I do!” Chara let out a sheepish laugh, digging into her pocket and producing the wayward pencil. “Apologies, I… thought I’d returned it.”
“It’s okay.” Noelle smiled faintly, though her ears twitched in relief. “I was just worried because I can’t lend it to you tomorrow if I don’t get it back today.”
And Chara, well—she had to admit, that was flawless logic. “Thank you all the same. I can't hang out right now, or I'd ask if you wanted to do something." She then gestured. "I have to meet up with mom. So... I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Well, alright. Later, have a good day.” Noelle gave a small wave before heading off.
With that, Chara jogged away, energy sparking in her steps. Normally she’d try to rope the other kids into a game or two—something lively, something fun to burn off the day’s stillness. But today, her mind was elsewhere. Today she wanted to spend time with her mom, who had promised they’d train together. And Chara was positive she was only one day away from becoming an all-powerful sorceress, clad in gleaming armor that would leave everyone awestruck.
At present, though, her outfit was a little less impressive: a red horned headband, a green jacket, a plain white shirt, and the skirt she’d been gifted not long ago. She wasn't sure about the jacket and shirt combination. But that skirt, though—she liked it a lot. She liked the way it swished when she spun, the way it brushed against her knees. The feeling brought a curious, unexpected joy she hadn’t known she was missing, a quiet euphoria humming through her chest.
Still, it wasn’t without its quirks. The ends sometimes dragged along the ground, and she found herself tugging it higher as she moved. A belt might help, she decided, and tucked the thought away for later.
Her scattered thoughts settled into rhythm as she bounded through Gardentown—darting between gardens, slipping through yards, her laughter trailing in the air. At one point she scrambled onto a fence, carefully balancing on the narrow wood as she peered out over the neighborhood. Not that she needed to, of course. But it was fun, and really, wasn’t that reason enough?
Walking along the fence, Chara realized she couldn’t spot her mother anywhere. Where had she gone? Perhaps she was in one of the shops?
This was usually the time her patrol route wove through the town… wasn’t it? Had she changed her path? Maybe she’d slipped into the forest trails instead?
Reaching the end of the fence, Chara hopped down and struck a triumphant pose at what she felt had been an incredibly impressive jump. It had to look super cool. …Or maybe it had looked super lame? She liked to think it was the former.
“Bravo, little fish,” a deep, older voice called from a nearby porch, followed by a slow clap.
“Thanks, Mr. Segora,” she answered with an embarrassed laugh, realizing too late she’d had an audience. She rubbed the back of her neck. “I, uh… I mean, I thought about trying a front flip or something, but—” she trailed off, cheeks heating, “Mom got upset last time.”
The goat monster chuckled warmly, his dark fur flecked with gray. “Well, of course she did, little fish. You faceplanted into the dirt.”
“I-it wasn't that bad. Like, I didn’t cry or anything. I was fine!” she huffed, crossing her arms.
“Uh-huh. Sure you didn’t.” He gave her a knowing look, his smile creasing the lines of his muzzle.
Chara padded closer to him, eager to steer the conversation away from her not at all disastrous attempt at acrobatics. “Well… off the topic of my super cool front-flipping skills… have you seen Mom anywhere?”
Segora was something of a fixture here in Gardentown, a friend of old Mr. Gerson and a familiar presence since Chara’s arrival. He helped in the shop now and then, though these days he spent more time in his chair on the porch, moving slower, quieter, more tired than before. His fur was streaked heavily with age, and his eyes had that faraway look of someone who carried old burdens.
Her mother had once told her that monsters tended to “age faster” after having children. And Segora… he’d had children once, though he didn’t know where they were anymore. His wife was with them, somewhere deeper in the Underground. Certain events—beyond his control, he’d said—had made it unsafe for him to live there with them. So here he remained, alone, trusting that they were safe.
Chara always felt a pang in her chest when she thought about it. More than a little pang, really. She wished she could do something for him, but… what? She had no idea.
A sharp snapping noise drew her out of her thoughts. Segora had snapped his fingers.
“Lost in thought again, little fish?” he teased, his voice gentle. Chara flushed with embarrassment. “Glad to have you back. Can’t go asking a fella a question and then drift off.”
“S-sorry, I was just—” Chara let out a nervous laugh. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Goodness.” He shook his head in mock exasperation. “You’ve gotta learn to focus, child. But yes, I saw your mom. She wandered out toward the Exit. Said she wanted to make sure it’s secure.”
“Really?” Chara blinked.
“Yup,” he confirmed, stretching with a tired groan. “She does that now and then. Usually at night, though.”
“Weird,” Chara muttered under her breath. “I… didn’t know she checked it at night.”
In fact, she hadn’t known her mother checked it at all. It made sense, of course—of course the Exit would need guarding—but it had never crossed her mind.
“Well, someone’s gotta, right?” Segora said around a yawn. He waved her off lazily. “Go on now. Grab some grapes along the way if you want.”
The side of his house was heavy with vines, clusters of ripe grapes drooping low. Once upon a time, he’d made juices and wines from them, or so she’d heard. She wondered why he’d stopped. Was it because of his age?
Still, she smiled and said brightly, “Right, definitely. Thank you, Mr. Segora! Have a good day!”
“You too, little fish, you too,” he answered, settling deeper into his chair with a tired wave.
Chara hurried to the side of his house, plucking handfuls of grapes. She stuffed some into her pockets and popped a few into her mouth—sweet, bursting with juice—before setting off again, feet quick against the dirt paths. Her thoughts circled restlessly, wishing she’d been told about these “security checks.” Wondering why she hadn’t been, and what else her mother might be keeping quiet.
The Exit.
The gateway to the rest of the Underground. Beyond the Forest Ruins, beyond Gardentown. A place she had never gone.
Her mother had always insisted that what lay past the door was not safe. Not friendly monsters like those she knew here, but ones hardened by resentment, carrying old scars of a war with humankind. They would harm her, her mother said, even if Chara herself did nothing to invite their wrath. To them, the fight was the only way forward.
Adjusting the plastic horns headband perched on her head, Chara grimaced faintly. She didn’t like being compared to humans. She knew she technically was one—but humans had treated her like something “less than.” Something unwelcome. She couldn’t be a monster, but she didn’t want to be human either. So instead, she decided she was something humans feared. A demon.
The holy humans had always spoken of demons with dread—“fallen human souls, tainted with sin, like monsters.” But here, monsters were kind. Monsters were family. If demons were like monsters, then surely demons must be kindly too. Surely they weren’t so terrible after all.
Her wandering thoughts broke when the familiar path to the Exit Door came into view. The trail wound right alongside their house, ending at a great, rusted iron gate with tall spiked bars. The lock had broken long ago, and it gave easily beneath her small hands.
Chara slipped through and descended the long, winding staircase carved into the earth. Torches lit the way, their orange light flickering across stone walls. Glowing markers—painted with the same luminous paint she’d once used on the old ruins by the great tree—guided her footsteps downward. The air grew cooler as she went, quieter, until she reached the bottom.
The Door.
The vast structure loomed over her, intricate and still. She scanned the empty space and found no one else.
“Mom?” she called, her voice echoing softly across the chamber. No answer. “Guess not…”
Her eyes climbed over the carved surface, drinking in the artistry etched into the stone. The emblem of the Delta Rune spread across its center, bold and unyielding. There was something about it—something beckoning. It pulled at her heart, inspiring both hesitation and an almost electric anticipation.
She’d only seen it once before, when she was smaller, when the Forest Ruins had felt endless and unknowable. Now she knew their limits, though even today they still held pockets of mystery. There were adventures enough to be had with friends and family. It was sufficient. It should have been enough.
And yet… sometimes it wasn’t.
Sometimes the danger beyond this door didn’t frighten her—it called to her. Less a warning, more a dare. A curiosity. How badly she wanted to see what lay beyond.
She edged closer, unable to help herself, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Grand Door, you haunt my mind,” she whispered. “I know I ought to leave you closed, and yet…” Her hand lifted, hesitating just shy of the carved surface. “I almost feel… determined… to see beyond.”
She glanced nervously over her shoulder, as though expecting her mother to appear. “I shouldn’t. I should… stay. But… will you haunt me if I don’t?” The question escaped in a trembling breath. “Oh… what should I do?”
She imagined the silence would hold her. That she would weigh her choices with careful thought, sinking into deep introspection. That she would be still, waiting for clarity to come.
That is not, however, what happened.
"It's not every day I hear a brand new monologue through the door," a voice remarked from the other side, making Chara cry out and stumble backward. "Un-boo-lievable, really."
"What the who—" Chara tensed, staring at the door before scrambling back to her feet. "H-hey. Who… who’s there?"
"Owl goes," the voice answered smoothly.
"Owl goes who?" Chara blurted, then realized too late what she’d just walked into.
"They do, they do, they do," the voice laughed from the other side.
Chara huffed, stomping up to the door and pressing her ear against it. "That wasn’t even clever. Just so you know."
"Everyone’s a critic these days," the voice—definitely a woman’s—snickered.
"Yeah, well… it’s—" Chara scrambled for a comeback. "A-door-able that you think you’re funny."
"Hey, hey, hey, that wasn’t half bad," the woman admitted. "Still though… I don’t think you’re supposed to be here, kid."
Chara’s brows knitted. "How do you—er, why do you think I’m a kid?"
"It’s kind of obvious," came the easy reply.
Chara stepped back from the door, glancing over her shoulder toward the staircase. This wasn’t supposed to happen, right? The exit door was supposed to stay hidden. Could outsiders get in? What if there was an army waiting out there?
"Yeah, well… you’re not getting in," Chara bluffed. "So you can just… go away now. Okay?"
"Is that right?" the woman asked.
"Y-yes!" Chara shot back, her confidence wavering. "Even if you did get in, you’d just get beat up and kicked out anyway."
"You sound awfully confident," the woman said, amused but with a faint warning under her tone. "You should be more careful before picking a fight."
"I mean, I could totally handle you myself. I’m well trained, you know." Chara puffed herself up, trying to sound intimidating. "And—even if I couldn’t, you wouldn’t stand a chance against my mom. She’s super strong."
There was silence for a moment. A soft hum on the other side, like the woman was considering something. Had her threat worked? Chara frowned, then knocked on the door hesitantly.
That’s when she heard the noise behind her.
"Boo," a voice whispered at her back. Chara yelped, spun, and swung wildly at the source. The intruder leaned easily out of reach, dodging the blow. "Hey, hey, relax would ya… you…"
Chara froze, scanning the stranger. She hadn’t seen her before. She looked—vaguely human? No. The joints gave it away. The seams. She was ghost like Red, this one wore a mannequin, or some kind of animatronic shell. A cat-woman frame, complete with ears, tail, and everything.
She was dressed casually, almost comfortably. Soft shoes. Pink pants, a couple shades lighter than the black shirt tucked above them. A fur-trimmed pink hoodie. A bell collar glinting at her throat. Her eyes studied Chara, unblinking, as if processing every detail.
"You… you can’t be in here!" Chara blurted, adjusting the plastic horns on her head with shaking hands. "I—how did you—"
"I took a shortcut," the woman said, tone less playful now. Her gaze lingered on Chara. "You look like a…"
Before she could finish, Chara bolted for the stairs. But her body flashed blue, her soul lighting the same color, and she yelped as she was lifted clean off the ground—hauled back upside down into the stranger’s grasp.
"H-hey! Put me down, you oversized housecat!" Chara kicked and flailed, dangling helplessly. "If you don’t, I'll... I'll kick your ass! A-and a-and..."
The woman’s expression darkened. Her gaze locked on the glowing blue soul in front of her, before finally sliding to Chara’s eyes. Dread prickled over Chara’s skin, an instinctive, suffocating sense of danger.
"You know, you weren't who I was waiting for but...maybe we got off on the wrong foot," the woman said evenly. "What’s your name, kiddo?"
It was around then, that the sound of footsteps came from the stairwell. Enough to reach them both, and snap them from this brief, and intense moment.
"Mom!" Chara screamed. "Mom, there’s a person!"
The intruder’s ears twitched. "That's...that should be...Undyne…" That came with a blink and a breath. "Your mom’s Undyne?"
"Eh-huh! How do you know her?" Chara demanded, even as the woman abruptly set her down. "I...what are...you doing?"
Surprise flickered across the intruder’s face. Confusion. Calculation. Her hands slid into her hoodie pocket as she exhaled. Like this information was conflicting for her to process.
And then, Undyne stepped into view at the bottom of the stairs, her presence filling the room, as she took in the scene.
"Running late today?" the stranger greeted lightly, motioning toward Chara. "Think I found something of yours."
Chara bolted to her mother’s side. "She got inside! I don’t know how, but—"
Undyne’s hand landed on her daughter’s head, steadying. Her eye never left the stranger. "Chara, deep breaths...it’s...it's fine."
"W-what?" The girl glanced back at the cat-lady, and huffed. "But—"
"We'll discuss this later. For now, go home, Chara. I’ll be there soon." Her tone sharpened, brooking no argument. "And don’t go yelling around about this. I know her."
Chara blinked up at her, wide-eyed. "Really? But she's from—" One look from her mother was enough. "R-right. Uh… I’ll… see you at home."
She hesitated, glancing back at the stranger as she ascended the stairs. They knew each other? How? Her stomach twisted, uneasy, but she obeyed. Racing home.
Her mother would be okay—Chara had never doubted that. Nobody alive was stronger than Undyne. At least she thought so, hoped so.
Still, she couldn’t shake it. She really hoped someone would explain what was going on afterward.