Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: Froggit Battle

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 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. He seemed oblivious to Flowey's sinister undertones, and Chara's unease deepened when Flowey offered to teach him how the Underground worked.

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 warn the boy, to pull him back, but her voice didn't reach him. Flowey continued his charade, guiding the boy through basic mechanics. Chara could only hope the boy would realize the danger in time. 

Alongside this Chara also felt a weird connection to the talking Flower as if she knew who it was she tried to reach out to it with her meager presence though her actions resulted in nothing as the Flowey only thought of her attempt to reach out as nothing more than 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.

Before he could touch the first lever, Flowey appeared, his round face popping up from the ground with unsettling ease.

"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."

Vance frowned, his hand hesitating mid-air. "Dangerous? Like what?"

Flowey's eyes shifted, and I could tell he was improvising. "Oh, you know. Spikes, pits, maybe a monster or two. Just trust me—you'll regret it if you pull it."

Vance's expression didn't change. He studied Flowey for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright, I won't pull it."

I couldn't help but smirk. Flowey's lies were painfully obvious, yet Vance chose to humor him. He moved to the first lever, pulling it without hesitation. A faint click echoed through the room as part of a door mechanism shifted.

Flowey watched him with narrowed eyes, his smile twitching. "Good, good. Just stick to the safe ones."

Vance ignored him, pulling the second lever next. Another click sounded, and the spike trap leading to the next room was deactivated. He glanced at the third lever but left it untouched, as promised.

"See? Easy," Flowey said, his grin widening.

As Vance walked toward the door, I lingered, watching Flowey closely. There was something... off about him. He radiated an energy that felt wrong, though I couldn't pinpoint why.

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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."

I floated closer, my curiosity piqued. What was he doing? Talking to an inanimate object—it was absurd. Yet, there was something endearing about it.

Vance stood there for a moment longer as if waiting for the dummy to respond. When it didn't, he simply smiled and said, "Take care," before moving on.

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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, primal 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?