Chapter Text
A familiar tune plays overhead, it's a sweet melody and always proceeds the falling of a human child.
“This is going to be the one. I know it.”
Undertale yellow: the normal route.
A little boy fell into the underground one fateful day. Through the thicket of the forest, he took it upon himself to throw his life into the cavern below. It was a ruthless drop. He fell for a long, long time. When he landed, he noticed he plummeted into a ring of yellow flowers.
Taking a moment to recover himself, the boy dusted himself off and continued on with his mission. Say, had this boy got a death wish? Of course not! He’s not stupid! This child wanted justice for all the long-dead children that didn't even fall on purpose. How could justice be ignored?
This was exactly what the boy thought as he dragged himself towards an exit. Temporarily emboldened, he tried running. The boy tasted the sweet, sugary pursuit of justice, and he felt light despite the dark cloud of responsibility that hung over him. He then realised he felt light because he was falling. Splat. The boy laid in a heap momentarily. His hat flew off from the stumble and wafted towards the floor again. The boy made no effort to reach for it.
After that insightful reverie, the boy grabbed his hat and continued onwards. Suddenly, he was met with some ornate pillars, carved into, detailing symbols he could not make out. The only thing that was clearly visible in this cavern was those flowers, shining a sickly yellow in the sunlight. The boy didn’t like their putrid smell. It was one of the foulest odors he had ever experienced. Yet, he lived to tell the tale. The boy stuck an optimistic hand to one of the pillars and almost stumbled when he felt a gap between the two pillars.
He kept walking, unsure of where he was going. Suddenly overcome with panic, the boy had to stop and search for an anchor. He could not see the way he entered from, the floor was as dark as the ceiling and the air was musty. But, his eyes latched onto another patch of sunlight. This patch did not have yellow flowers on it, but still had the same vibrant green grass which was underneath the first one.
The boy wanted to investigate. An itch scratched at his throat, telling him, pleading for progression. He was standing in front of the sunlight. The thought of entering it felt like a betrayal. Until, that opportunity was seized with a sharp click. A door? The boy saw no doors. In a flurry, a white and pink lady scampered into the sunlight. She looked like a goat, though the boy would disagree. This beast looked exactly as the textbooks described monsters, like being of hell itself.
Luckily, the boy signed up for this.
He readied himself with an adjustment of his hat and a fiddle of his bandana, but before he could speak, he was interrupted. Unlucky, kiddo.
“Ah! Hello.” The monster-lady in pink said. Her face was kind, but the boy would never trust those horns, “Are you all right? You must be wondering what is going on…”
The boy wasn’t.
“I am TORIEL, caretaker of the RUINS. I pass through here every day to see if anyone has fallen down.”
Bingo. With a half smile, the boy went to ask more. However, the lady dipped her head in some—very obvious—malicious manner. She did not see the boy’s attempt to speak, and continued.
“It does not happen often.” A sniffle, she raised her head, “You are the first to come here in a long time. Do not be afraid, little one.”
The hair on the boy's arms raised curiously.
“I will do my best to protect you here.”
The boy's thoughts were a whirlwind.
“Come! I shall show you through your new home.” And like that, the lady was gone.
After a minute of soaking in the sweet silence, the boy reevaluated stepping into the sunlight. He found he was too scared of getting lost in the dark and was forced to step through it despite his hesitation. ‘Goodbye grass,’ he thought, ‘I will see you again someday.’
Two sets of purple pillars and an archway over both. The boy stepped through.
The boy was led through a pinkish-purple building. Red leaves crinkled between his feet, the sound was fun, but fun was distracting. He felt like he had seen this before. Actually, he felt he had seen this lady before, but that did nothing to quell his guardedness. These were monsters. However, being guided through the Ruins with nothing but kindness made the boy’s stomach tingle. It could easily be a long-con, which always led to the worst crimes, or it could be that the lady didn’t know who he was. Whatever the monster was planning, the boy knew he still had to progress.
So, when she asked, he pulled the first lever.
And he then pulled the second.
Only, this lever did not click. The boy was about to make a comment on it when, “…It should have opened by now…”
The boy turned, hand to his toy gun’s holster.
“I am sure I labelled the correct lever…” Noticing the boy she said, “Ah, do not worry, little one! Try flipping the other switch.”
The boy didn’t want to. This was a trap. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He needed to—
Wait, what?
The boy pulled the lever.
He felt the wind come up from beneath him, slowing time, making him realise. In one crystal clear moment, it all came into focus: this was not the path to justice.
What path, he wasn’t sure. Death, maybe? No, it couldn’t be. He heard a gasp and a scream.
“My child! Are you all right?”
The boy couldn’t see. Now, this fall was truly an accident and now he had been submerged into a darkness much deeper than what he thought possible.
He didn’t hear what Toriel said to him.
There were no flowers that broke his fall this time. His body ached but he needed to progress anyway. He pushed himself upwards and onto his feet and walked along the simple passages. The boy could not see, but the path beneath him made enough sense that he didn’t need his vision in the first place.
He kept walking, a gnawing fear creeping on his shoulders. He kept walking until a shuffling sound rumbled through the deeper cavern. His eyes were trained on the spot in front of him, the beat of his heart intensified, building into a grand crescendo. The ground split, one leaf, two leaves, until a whole yellow flower appeared.
The boy knew who this was with certainty. He was a complete—
No. No, no, no, it happened again.
“Howdy!”
The boy didn’t know this flower. He had never met him in his entire life. The boy resisted his flighty conscience to examine the flower closer. Full, luscious, oval petals, winding, ever-tangled, yellow-green stem. Flower-y, like all flowers.
And the flower continued speaking, slowly and cheerfully, “I’m FLOWEY.”
The flower’s smile didn’t waver. ‘Oh.’ The boy thought.
“FLOWEY the FLOWER!” It was at this moment that the flower developed a look of sympathy. He couldn’t help but notice it was fake as the flower said, “Hmmm… You look confused.”
The boy had something to say to that but needed to push his hat firmer on his head.
Letting out a giggle, the boy didn’t get to say anything, “Toriel ought to have taught you how things work around here! She didn’t?” Now sticking out his tongue, “I guess little old me will have to do then.”
Then an option the boy could only dream of accepting: “Do you want me to teach ya?”
The boy listened to this option and thought about it deeply, that gun he has doesn’t teach him how to shoot it. But, anxiety fills the boy and he can’t help but deny the offer.
The flower takes it in stride. It talks more. “Those humans you’re after? Sorry, but…”
The boy shook. How did he know this? How did he know that—“King ASGORE has already gotten to ‘em.” Flowey said.
Seeing his worst fear come to light, the boy stepped back out of shock. Rocks crushed beneath his feet and his hand was forced from his gun to steady himself.
“You already knew that, though. Didn’t ya?”
The boy cowered in fear and tripped on his own feet; too scared for tears and too angry for words, he shuffled backwards in complete darkness.
“Did you really think I didn’t notice? I know everything about you.“
Flowey ducked into the ground and reemerged. No matter how fast the boy shuffled, he could not move fast enough. Flowey kept his steady approach, always inching closer, “Your favourite foods, your favourite places, your favourite friends.”
He emerged right in front of the boy’s face, a monstrous smile overtaking his entire head, Clover fell onto his back, he stared at the rocky roofs, willing a stalactite to fall on him. Unfortunately, none moved.
“I know your weaknesses, how you change with each LV, so tell me, Clover!
How
did
you
do
it?”
Clover didn’t know why any of this was happening to him. He had realised he had done all of this before—his gut was iron-clad—but it didn’t feel as though he had lived any of those moments.
Flowey’s anger decayed before Clover’s eyes, “golly, you must have gotten your hands on some determination! Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s enough for us to move on from this dump. How about a real challenge?”
Clover still couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move, could barely see; he wanted justice and he had never asked for a torturous plant to destroy his life.
“Chop, chop! We have places to be. I won’t wait for you forever. This is a one time offer, pal. Let's have fun making good memories while you still can.”
With significant energy and goading, Clover stood up. He didn’t have to walk far until a rope hit him in the face. Maybe Clover was relieved to leave these ruins too. He saw Toriel’s hand first, the fur was warm and slightly sweaty. It made Clover feel sick. When he saw her face, he was instantly assaulted by another wave of disgust. Toriel. His feelings hadn’t changed… Clover just remembered a few more things.
“Welcome to my world, bud.”
Clover opened his mouth but decided it wasn’t worth responding to.