As Vance carefully approached the next puzzle room, he felt a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. He had a good memory of this particular challenge from his previous playthroughs of Undertale. The design of the room before him seemed straightforward: markings on the floor on the left side, spikes and water on the right, and a plaque in the center reading, "The western room is the eastern room's blueprint."
Vance recalled the solution almost instantly. The markings on the floor would guide him through the spike traps, and as long as he followed the pattern correctly, he'd be safe. The puzzle was difficult, but he had already solved it in the game, so it felt a bit anticlimactic to him in real life. Still, there was something odd about how these puzzles seemed to serve no real purpose outside of just… delaying progress. He found it almost laughable—who would bother with these bizarre contraptions in reality? At most, they seemed like simple roadblocks.
He turned his attention to the markings and took careful note of each step that needed to be made. If he stepped on the wrong spot, he'd trigger the spikes, and that could end badly. The water flowing beneath the platform didn't help much either—it looked like a long fall to nothingness if one made the wrong move.
Just as he was about to take his first step, a froggit appeared in the doorway. The little creature's wide eyes locked onto him, filled with suspicion. It was standing alert, its body tense.
"Stop! Halt!" the froggit croaked loudly. "Go back to where you came from."
Vance blinked, surprised by the froggit's directness. He had expected the monsters in the Ruins to be more passive, perhaps like the game, where Froggits would often shy away from confrontation. He gave the Froggit a soft smile and tried to speak gently.
"I'm not here to hurt anyone," Vance said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I just need to get through." He added, as he often did when trying to ease the tension, "You seem like a strong and brave Froggit. I think you've got this under control."
He hoped his compliment would do the trick, just like it did in the game. But as he finished speaking, the Froggit's expression didn't change. It seemed wary—too wary. Its posture stiffened, its eyes darting as if sizing him up.
Suddenly, with a frantic leap, the Froggit jumped high into the air, aiming to land directly on top of Vance, its legs outstretched for an attack.
In the split second that the Froggit's leap was about to collide with him, Vance's golden soul—his very essence—manifested in a way he had not anticipated. It popped out of his body, suspended in mid-air as if it had always been meant to be there. His soul seemed to pulse with energy, shimmering and golden, just like it did in the game. It was a strange feeling, like something from his past life becoming real.
Without thinking, Vance's mind instinctively reached out to his soul. He focused on it, and with that thought, it moved—just as if it were an extension of his own body. In perfect synchronization, both his body and soul reacted to the Froggit's pounce.
His body dodged to the side, and at the same time, his soul flew in the opposite direction, narrowly avoiding the Froggit's attack. The Froggit landed where he had just been, its wide eyes blinking in confusion, unable to grasp what had just happened.
Vance, too, stood there, his heart racing. His golden soul pulsed brightly around him, a strange warmth spreading through him. He was surprised, but also amazed by the sudden reaction. Had his soul always been able to act like that? Could he control it more intentionally, like in the game?
For a brief moment, it seemed as if time had slowed, and all he could focus on was the synchronized movement of his body and soul. He hadn't expected to have a battle-like experience in this world, especially not with such an innocent-looking creature.
The Froggit hopped back, its eyes darting from Vance's soul to his physical form. It croaked again, sounding more alarmed than before. "You... You dodged it. You... you didn't fight me..."
Vance could feel a bit of unease creep up as he looked at the Froggit. He didn't want to hurt it—he had never wanted to hurt anyone in this world—but he could sense that his golden soul was reacting defensively. It seemed to have a life of its own, and he wasn't sure yet how much control he had over it.
Vance's heart raced as the Froggit lunged at him again, but this time, it wasn't a simple leap. Its legs extended in a powerful spring, and it aimed to land a direct strike to Vance's chest. But in that instant, Vance felt the familiar hum of his golden soul, now more attuned to his instincts than ever before.
As the Froggit descended, Vance's body ducked to the left, and his soul shot upwards to avoid the strike. The attack missed, and the Froggit landed with a loud thud where Vance had been moments ago. Before he could even fully process the movement, the Froggit was already in the air again, its body twisting as it hurled a barrage of spears—darting from the tips of its limbs like a flurry of projectiles.
Vance's golden soul pulsed with more force now, and it became almost second nature to him. His body swerved right while his soul shifted left, dodging the spears with a fluidity that felt like it was becoming part of him. The Froggit didn't stop—it seemed determined as if it wanted to see how far Vance would go before he was forced to fight.
The Froggit took a moment to regain its balance, and then its eyes narrowed. "You're really not going to fight, are you?" it croaked, almost incredulously.
Vance stood his ground, his chest heaving, but his expression calm. "I don't want to fight you. I just want to pass through the Ruins. Please, just let me go."
The Froggit seemed to reconsider his words, but before it could do anything else, it launched its next move. This time, it sent a wave of bubbles toward Vance, swirling in patterns that seemed to trap him in a tight corner. It was an attack Vance remembered from his previous playthroughs—one that would force anyone caught to either defend or counterattack.
Vance's soul pulsed again, his golden essence radiating with an energy that felt oddly protective. Instead of evading this time, Vance focused more intently, willing his soul to expand and create a protective barrier. The bubbles veered away from him, his soul's energy repelling the attack effortlessly.
The Froggit paused in mid-air, clearly impressed. "You... you did that without even trying," it muttered, its voice tinged with something close to awe. "You dodged all my attacks..."
Vance smiled faintly, his golden soul fading as he lowered his body. "I just wanted to show you I didn't mean any harm," he said softly.
The Froggit stared at him, still hovering in place, and for a moment, Vance wondered if it would attack again. But the Froggit's posture softened, and its body seemed to relax. "Well, I guess I can't really fight someone who doesn't want to fight." It landed lightly on the ground, its limbs wobbling as it seemed to consider something.
"You're strange... but not bad," the Froggit admitted. "Not like the others."
Vance felt a slight relief in his chest as he nodded. "I try my best to get along with everyone."
The Froggit hesitated, then spoke again, its voice quieter now. "You're different, kid. You didn't even try to hurt me... You dodged every attack. I respect that."
With a small hop, the Froggit backed away from him, its wariness replaced by a curious admiration. "Alright, I'll let you go. You seem like a good person. You deserve to pass."
As it hopped toward the doorway, the Froggit paused one last time. It turned back and, to Vance's surprise, tossed something toward him. A small clink sounded as a piece of gold landed at his feet.
"Take it," the Froggit said, its tone almost embarrassed. "For not fighting me. For letting me show off my skills. It's the least I can do."
Vance bent down to pick up the gold, his fingers brushing against its cool surface. He didn't know what to say at first, but he smiled, his voice full of gratitude. "Thanks."
With that, the Froggit gave him one last look before disappearing into the depths of the Ruins. The sound of its croaks faded as it hopped away, and the tension in the air lifted.
Vance stood still for a moment, his golden soul still buzzing faintly inside him. He thought back to the library book he had read in Snowdin. He remembered the passage about monsters showing off their attacks as a way to express their personalities, to reveal their uniqueness to strangers. A strange sense of wonder washed over him as he realized that the Froggit had done exactly that—it had been showing off, not to defeat him, but to assert itself, to show that it was capable, that it had its own way of doing things.
He held the gold in his hand, contemplating the encounter. Maybe this world wasn't just about fights and puzzles. Maybe, just maybe, it was more about understanding the creatures in it, seeing their true nature beyond the surface.
Vance exhaled, his golden soul fading back into his body. He stood still for a moment, his mind racing with questions. What was that? Was his soul always like that, able to act on its own in times of danger? How much power did he have over it? What kind of soul was it?
For now, though, he knew he couldn't linger. The puzzle lay ahead, and he needed to focus. With a glance at the path before him, Vance stepped forward, carefully following the markings on the floor and avoiding the spike traps.
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Chara's Pov
The moment light pierced through the darkness, Chara felt herself stir from an eternal slumber. Her form was faint, almost nonexistent, tethered only by a golden radiance that pulsed with warmth and purpose. She couldn't remember who she was or why she existed, but the energy surrounding her was comforting. It gave her shape—a fragile ghost of her former self. Her consciousness clung to the source of the light, an unfamiliar boy with a kind yet determined expression. His soul shone like a beacon, radiating compassion that made her feel… alive again, even if only faintly.
The boy stepped cautiously into the first room of the Ruins, his movements deliberate, as if he knew exactly what to expect. Chara drifted after him, her incorporeal form hovering like a shadow. She couldn't make herself known; her presence was too weak, sustained solely by the boy's golden soul. All she could do was watch.
In the center of the room stood a single flower rooted in the ground. Chara's instincts immediately screamed at her to be wary, but the boy didn't hesitate. He approached the flower, and it greeted him with a wide, cheerful smile.
"Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!" it chirped.
Chara narrowed her eyes. Something was unsettling about the flower, though it was adept at hiding its true intentions behind its overly friendly demeanor. She watched as the boy introduced himself, his voice calm and polite.
"Uh... hi?" the boy squeaked, taking a cautious step back. "My name's Vance."
"Vance is his name huh."
Chara felt a strange tug, a sense of closeness she couldn't explain, as if her very essence was drawn to him. It was not familiarity, but something deeper, tied to the golden soul that pulsed through him. She couldn't remember who he was or why she felt this connection, but the boy's soul made her feel something she hadn't in a long time—alive, even if just for a moment.
Flowey continued his cheerful facade, and Chara's unease deepened. She tried to warn Vance, to reach out, but her presence was too weak. Flowey offered to teach Vance how the Underground worked, and despite the warning bells ringing in Chara's mind, the boy seemed oblivious.
When the boy's golden soul manifested, Chara's connection to him strengthened momentarily. The light enveloped her, and for a fleeting second, she felt whole. She tried to speak, to pull him away from the flower, but her voice never reached him. Flowey continued guiding him, and Chara could only hope Vance would realize the danger in time.
Alongside this, Chara also felt an odd pull toward Flowey, as if she somehow recognized the flower. She tried to reach out to it with her meager presence, but her attempts were met with nothing—Flowey only thought of her as a whisper in the wind.
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I followed closely as he moved through the Ruins, his steps filled with an energy that seemed at odds with the stillness of this place. His actions were deliberate but occasionally strange—like when he stood before a patch of empty ground after leaving the room where he'd encountered Flowey.
"Save," he muttered to himself, his voice soft but resolute.
I tilted my head, curious. What was he doing? He stood there, unmoving, repeating the word like it was some kind of ritual.
"Save," he said again, holding his hands out as if waiting for something to happen.
Nothing did.
His shoulders sagged, and a frustrated sigh escaped him. "Why isn't it working? I'm supposed to save here..."
I couldn't help but find it amusing. A small, breathless laugh escaped me—a sound so faint it disappeared into the air before it could reach him. He looked so serious, so determined, yet he was speaking nonsense. "Save?" What did it even mean?
Still, there was a strange charm in his persistence. He wasn't deterred by the failure; instead, he simply muttered to himself and moved forward. I floated after him, intrigued by this odd boy who radiated kindness but carried a faint sadness in his eyes.
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The next room was simple—laughably so. I watched as Vance entered, his eyes scanning the floor with familiarity. On the left, a series of markings etched into the tiles formed a clear pattern. To the right, a line of deadly spikes glinted in the dim light.
Vance didn't hesitate. He stepped carefully onto the tiles, his movements fluid as if he had done this a hundred times before. One, two, three, four—he followed the path with ease, avoiding the spike traps entirely.
I floated above him, watching with mild interest. This puzzle wasn't challenging—it was just a test of observation. Yet, the way Vance handled it made me wonder: how did he know the solution so quickly? It was as if he wasn't seeing the markings for the first time, as if he had walked this path before.
"That was... too easy," I muttered to myself, though my voice barely carried.
Vance didn't even pause to celebrate his success. He simply stepped through the door on the other side, his focus unshaken.
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The next room was more curious. Three levers lined the wall, each identical in design. Vance approached them cautiously, his eyes flickering with recognition.
"Wait!" Flowey said, his voice dripping with false concern. "Don't pull that third lever. It leads to... uh... a dangerous part of the Ruins. Dangerous! You don't want to go there."
"Why?" Vance asked cautiously. "What's down there?"
Flowey's expression darkened, his ever-present smile twisting into something almost sinister. "Let's just say it's not a place you'd want to explore, kid. Trust me on this one. You're better off leaving that lever alone."
Vance just stared at him for a moment, his hand still hanging in mid-air. Flowey's words reeked of insincerity, but Vance didn't seem to catch it.
Vance let his hand drop. "Fine," he muttered, stepping back. "I'll leave it for now."
Chara's eyes gleamed. Finally, some common sense, she thought, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. But even as Vance moved on, she couldn't shake the feeling that Flowey's warning was more than it seemed. He's never been one to warn anyone... What's he hiding?
"Smart choice," Flowey said, his voice slipping back into something more playful. "Stick to the main path, kid. You wouldn't want to get yourself in trouble this early on, would you?"
Chara watched closely as Flowey vanished back into the ground. Flowey's usual games aren't working today... but I know Vance. This isn't over. That third lever... it's calling to him.
Vance, unaware of Chara's scrutiny, stepped back, his gaze drifting to the spot where Flowey had disappeared. I know what he's feeling... Chara thought with a smirk. Curiosity. That urge to push the limits and see just how deep the mystery goes.
Vance sighed and moved on, leaving the third lever untouched—this time. But it won't be long before the temptation gets the better of you, Chara mused, already looking ahead to when Vance would inevitably be drawn back to it.
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The next room was empty save for a lone dummy propped up in the center. Vance approached it with a strange kind of reverence, his hands clasped behind his back as if he were greeting an old friend.
"Hello," he said softly, his voice warm.
The dummy, of course, didn't respond.
"I hope you're doing well," Vance continued, his tone earnest. "I don't really know what to say, but... I'm glad you're here."
Chara hovered nearby, floating in place, her eyes narrowed in curiosity. She had no idea why Vance was speaking to the dummy, let alone with such warmth. It seemed absurd to her, and she couldn't help but think it was a waste of time. Still, there was something strangely endearing in the way he treated it, as if the dummy were somehow alive. She drifted closer, her gaze fixed on him.
For a long moment, Vance remained where he was continued to chat with the unresponsive dummy, his eyes locked on the dummy as if waiting for some kind of response. Chara watched, her thoughts drifting away from the scene. She wasn't sure why he was talking to it for so long. What was the point? It wasn't like the dummy could say anything back. Yet, Vance seemed so intent, so... patient. She found herself growing distracted, her attention wandering elsewhere, unsure of how to feel about the situation. The idea of giving that much care to something so clearly lifeless seemed odd to her, but she couldn't deny there was a certain quiet tenderness in his actions.
She glanced back at Vance, who stood unmoving, still expecting some kind of reaction. Her mind wandered for a moment—Did he really think it would answer? She couldn't understand it. Why would he wait for something that wasn't even real to reply?
But just as her thoughts were starting to pull her away, Vance broke the silence. He smiled, a soft, almost melancholic smile, before saying, "Take care."
He paused one last time, then turned and continued his way through the room. Chara followed, still trying to piece together the strange, fleeting moment she'd just witnessed.
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The final room was where things changed. As Vance entered, a Froggit hopped into view, its large eyes narrowing as it spotted him.
"Stop!" the Froggit croaked. "You can't pass here!"
Vance raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I don't want to fight. I'm just passing through."
The Froggit didn't listen. It leapt toward him, its legs outstretched for an attack.
That's when it happened.
The golden light of Vance's soul burst forth, radiating a warmth that filled the room. My own essence stirred in response, a faint flicker of power coursing through me. But along with it came... something else.
A sharp, instinct clawed at the edges of my being. Bloodlust. The Froggit's attack triggered something deep within me—a craving for violence, for the satisfying finality of a blow that would end the fight.
Kill it, a voice whispered in my mind. My voice.
I recoiled, startled by the thought. Where had that come from?
Vance dodged the Froggit's attack with ease, his soul moving in perfect harmony with his body. He didn't retaliate—he simply avoided the blows, his movements graceful and precise.
Kill it, the voice urged again, more insistent this time.
I focused all my will on Vance, desperate to make him hear me, to make him act. But no matter how hard I tried, he didn't notice me. My presence was too weak, too faint to influence him.
To my frustration—and, perhaps, relief—Vance continued to dodge, his golden soul pulsing with compassion. He refused to fight, even as the Froggit grew more aggressive.
When the battle finally ended, and the Froggit retreated, I felt a strange mix of emotions. Pride in Vance for his resolve, frustration at my own inability to affect him, and a lingering unease at the bloodlust that had stirred within me.
What was happening to me?
-----Chapter Edited 1/27-----