As Vance passed through the final room, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved. The last puzzle, with its intricate tiles and hidden traps, had been a challenge, but his familiarity with the game made it feel almost too easy. He'd remembered the markings on the floor from his previous playthroughs, guiding him safely through the maze of spikes. The puzzle was complex, but Vance knew the right path to take—his knowledge of the game guided him as he carefully avoided the spikes and continued forward.
The puzzle was straightforward, yet a little silly. The water flowing below the platform added an unnecessary level of tension as if the fall beneath him would lead to some ultimate danger. Vance couldn't help but laugh to himself, wondering why such a simple obstacle had been designed this way in the game.
Once he was through, he stepped cautiously into the long corridor ahead, feeling both familiar and strange. It was an area in the game that always intrigued him. He remembered how Toriel had insisted that crossing this hallway without her guidance was an "Independence Test," and he had always found that logic a little flawed.
He smiled to himself, thinking back to when he had first played through it. From the entrance of the room, he could already see the pillar at the end of the hall. It wasn't even a challenge to spot it; the back of the pillar was visible from the start. Toriel's hiding spot had seemed so useless to him in hindsight. How did she ever think that anyone would fail to notice her standing there?
It was one of those moments where the game's mechanics made him question the realism of it all. In the world of the Underground, a hidden figure in such an obvious location could only make sense in the context of a game's rules. In real life, someone could easily spot Toriel—or anyone else—hiding in plain sight behind something so conspicuous.
Another odd memory flashed into his mind—the first time he'd met Papyrus. He remembered how Frisk, in the game, had hidden behind a lamp, which seemed like the most obvious place to spot someone. The lamp was the same shape and size as Frisk, and it was positioned in such a way that it practically screamed "Look here!" In reality, he couldn't see how anyone could have missed it, and he couldn't help but find the game mechanics a little too convenient sometimes.
As Vance moved along the corridor, those thoughts lingered in his mind. The designs of the game world were so clearly crafted to fit its narrative, but when you looked at them with a more critical eye, they seemed almost absurd.
For now, though, Vance focused on the next step in his journey, stepping carefully through the corridor. He could already see the end, the next challenge waiting for him, but for a moment, he allowed himself to reflect. It wasn't just the game mechanics that had always fascinated him; it was the way this world and its rules had shaped his perception of things. It was as though every detail—the puzzles, the fights, the interactions with the monsters—had been designed not just to test him but to make him think, to challenge his assumptions.
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Vance slowly steps into the next room, his heart still racing from the previous encounter. He finds himself in another dimly lit chamber of the Ruins, the stone walls covered in moss and the floor cracked in places. As he moves forward cautiously, he spots a lone Froggit near the entrance, standing completely still. This Froggit doesn't immediately jump toward him with aggression like the one he's encountered.
Instead, the Froggit tilts its head in surprise, staring at Vance with wide eyes. It seems unsure of what to make of him. For a moment, there's a heavy silence between them, and Vance can feel the tension in the air. He doesn't know how to proceed, but he doesn't want to attack. He remembers the lesson from his past life—violence only breeds more violence.
The Froggit croaks nervously, its voice soft but sincere, "A-are you a human? Please, don't hurt me. I-I don't want to fight anymore." The words are shaky, full of fear as if the creature expects to be attacked any moment, as so many others in the Ruins had done before.
Vance's gaze softens. He can see the fear in its eyes, the same fear he had felt when he first arrived in this strange world, and the same fear he often carries with him from his past. Without a word, he holds out his hand in a peaceful gesture, signaling that he means no harm.
The Froggit hesitates for a moment but then continues, its voice full of a mix of sorrow and regret. "I don't know but ... If some monsters have attacked you... Please, forgive them. They're just scared. We... we don't understand humans. There was an incident, a few years ago, where a human... a bad human... attacked one of us. We've been afraid ever since. Afraid that humans might hurt us."
Vance's heart aches as the Froggit speaks. He realizes that this creature is not just afraid of him but is also haunted by the memories of an event that shook the very fabric of this underground world. The humans in this world had not all been kind, and that had left deep scars on the monsters who lived here.
"I promise," Vance says softly, his voice full of sincerity, "I won't hurt anyone. I just want to understand and help if I can."
The Froggit's eyes widen with cautious hope, its small body trembling as it processes Vance's words. The tension in the room begins to ease, and for a moment, the two of them stand there—human and monster, both wary but connected by something deeper.
After a long silence, the Froggit croaks quietly, "Thank you... Thank you for understanding. Not all of us are bad, but... we're afraid of what happened before."
With a small hop, the Froggit moves back, still looking at Vance with gratitude but also with the wariness that comes from years of mistrust. It seems almost like it's waiting for permission to go, unsure of what to do next.
Vance nods gently, smiling in a way that he hopes is reassuring. "You're welcome. I just... I hope things can get better here. For everyone."
The Froggit hesitates, then nods in return, before hopping back into the shadows, leaving Vance alone in the room. A sense of peace settles over him, though the encounter leaves him thinking. The Ruins were more than just a place filled with monsters—it was a place where fear, misunderstandings, and scars from the past ran deep.
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Vance stood in the small room above the room where the lone Froggit had once been, the air still tinged with the faint scent of moss and earth. The bowl of candy sat in the center of the stone pedestal, its bright colors almost mockingly cheerful in the dim light. Vance eyed it for a moment, thinking back to the game. He remembered how Frisk, in the original playthrough, had only been able to take three candies before the bowl tipped over and spilled, its overabundance of sweets serving as a simple lesson about following the rules.
Vance stood in the small room where the lone Froggit had once been, the air still tinged with the faint scent of moss and earth. The bowl of candy sat in the center of the stone pedestal, its bright colors almost mockingly cheerful in the dim light. Vance eyed it for a moment, thinking back to the game. He remembered how Frisk, in the original playthrough, had only been able to take three candies before the bowl tipped over and spilled, its overabundance of sweets serving as a simple lesson about following the rules.
But Vance wasn't Frisk. And in this world, rules felt less like guidelines and more like constraints. He hadn't eaten in what felt like forever—his stomach a constant reminder of his emptiness, both physically and emotionally. He hadn't had a decent meal since before he had even fallen into the Ruins, and even then, it had only been scraps his parents had left behind, a pitiful existence that had led him to run away in the first place.
With a deep breath, Vance made up his mind. His fingers brushed against the bowl, cool and smooth under his touch, as he carefully took several handfuls of candy. He was hungry, so hungry. But as he took more than he knew he was supposed to, he hesitated for just a second. Something inside him reminded him of the kindness he had shown to the Froggit earlier, the way he had promised not to harm anyone. With a soft sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small amount of gold he had gotten from the Froggit. He set it carefully by the bowl, along with a note he scribbled hastily with the back of his hand. It read:
"I'm sorry for taking more than one. I haven't eaten in days, and I was too hungry. I hope you understand."
He placed the note next to the bowl, his heart heavy with guilt, before quickly turning away. He didn't know if the Froggit would come back to see the gold and note, or if it would matter. But it felt like the right thing to do.
After stepping out of the room, Vance headed back toward the last area where he had encountered the save point. He had hoped that by some miracle, the game's mechanics would allow him to save and rest, but as always, the save point remained unyielding. There would be no saving his progress here. A small, disappointed sigh escaped his lips. Even in this world, it felt like there was no way to pause, no way to take a break, no way to just rest.
He moved forward, the crackling of the leaves underfoot echoing in the silence. As he approached the next room, he found himself standing before a set of cracked floors, each one threatening to break at the slightest touch. Vance had always wondered how this room worked. In the game, Frisk had simply fallen through the cracks to reach the other side, landing on a bed of soft brown leaves that cushioned the fall. But how did it work? How could something that seemed so fragile—so obvious—lead to such a seamless transition?
Vance glanced around, pondering the mechanics. His mind began to wander to the possibility of some kind of spatial magic at play. Maybe the fall wasn't as straightforward as it seemed. Maybe there was something more behind it—some hidden force that softened his landing, or maybe it was just a strange illusion woven by the game. The more he thought about it, the more the game's world seemed to warp and bend around him, as if the laws of physics weren't quite what they appeared to be.
He stepped forward cautiously, knowing that the floor would give way the moment he made contact. Sure enough, with a soft crack, the floor beneath him gave way, and he fell through the air, his stomach lurching as he descended. The soft rustle of leaves broke his fall, and he landed with an almost graceful thud, the leaves cushioning his impact perfectly.
Standing up, he dusted himself off, looking around at the strange new environment. He had landed in a different part of the Ruins, a place he hadn't expected to see from this angle. The high hallway stretched before him, and he could hear a soft breeze from the vent above. As he approached the door at the bottom of the hole, he couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of it all. How had he ended up here, and how did the game mechanics work in such strange, unexplainable ways?
Vance shook his head, letting out a small laugh. Maybe it wasn't something he was supposed to understand. Maybe, just maybe, this world didn't have to make perfect sense. He wasn't here to solve all the puzzles of the game. He was here to find his way through, to explore and learn, to understand what lay hidden in the corners of this place. And, for a moment, he was okay with that.
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Vance stepped cautiously into the next room, his eyes scanning the familiar layout of the Ruins. The air was cool, and a faint rumble echoed through the stone walls. As he ventured deeper, he quickly spotted the large, seemingly ordinary rock in the center of the room. It was positioned exactly where he remembered it, sitting perfectly still, its jagged edges blending seamlessly with the other rocks around it. However, unlike the other rocks, this one had a strange, almost sentient aura to it.
Vance approached it slowly, recalling that this was the same rock monster he had encountered in his past playthroughs, the one he needed to talk to in order to deactivate the spike traps ahead. But today, the rock wasn't going to make things easy.
"Hey there," Vance called out, trying to sound as friendly as possible. "I need to get past the spikes ahead, can you help me step on the plate over there?"
The rock rumbled for a moment, then a deep, gravelly voice responded, "Hmm… I'm… thinking."
Vance blinked, a little thrown off. "Thinking? About what?"
The rock stayed motionless, its surface shifting slightly as if it were considering his question. "I'm focusing on being a true rock," it said with an air of finality. "I must become one with the earth. I cannot be disturbed."
Vance stared at the rock, a little unsure of how to proceed. He had expected some kind of dialogue, but this? This was just absurd. He took a step closer. "Uh, I get that, but I really need your help. The traps ahead are dangerous."
The rock remained silent for a few moments, before its voice came again, more firmly this time. "I will not move. I am a rock. I am steadfast and unmoving. It is my calling."
Vance's patience started to wear thin. "But you're not just a rock, right? You're a sentient monster, and that's... that's way more important. You could be helping me out here!"
The rock hummed softly, contemplating his words. "I must be true to my nature. Rocks don't move. They stay in place. It's my destiny to remain here... I must resist the urge to budge."
Vance sighed dramatically, exasperated but trying to keep things light. "So you're telling me you won't move because you're pretending to be a rock? Are you sure that's really your purpose?"
The rock paused, clearly intrigued by the challenge in Vance's tone. "It is my purpose! To be still. To be part of the landscape. To be... rock."
At this point, Vance was struggling to keep himself from laughing. The whole situation was absurd, and he couldn't help but grin. "Okay, okay. I get it. You're a rock. But you are a sentient rock. You can help me, can't you? If you do, I'll make sure you get a nice... rock break. You can be as still as you want afterwards."
The rock didn't budge, but Vance noticed a tiny crack in its resolve.
"I'll tell you what," the rock rumbled again, a sly tone creeping into its voice. "If you want me to help you, then I need a favor too. A challenge."
"A challenge?" Vance raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I am lonely," the rock confessed. "Most monsters don't even notice me, thinking I'm just a regular rock. It's... difficult. I need someone to spend time with me. So, here's my challenge: Bring me some of the common monsters from the Ruins—Whimsun, Froggit, Moldsmal, Migosp, Loox, and Vegetoid. Have them come here and keep me company. Only then will I help you."
Vance's eyes widened in disbelief. "You want me to gather monsters... and bring them here?"
The rock nodded proudly. "Yes. I need companions. If you bring them here and they spend some time with me, I'll let you pass and deactivate the spikes. But don't take too long! I'll be meditating."
Vance groaned. This was not what he expected when he entered the room. However, he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the sentient rock. It was, after all, asking for something that wasn't unreasonable—it just seemed a little... ridiculous. Still, it was a task he could do. After all, it was better than just fighting his way through the traps.
Vance's journey to recruit the monsters for the sentient rock wasn't as simple as he had hoped. While some of the younger monsters were willing to join him—perhaps unaware of the deeper distrust many monsters held toward humans—others were far more cautious. Every time Vance encountered a monster who seemed older or more battle-worn, he could feel the tension in the air. They were far more suspicious, more aware of the past violence humans had brought to the Underground.
After convincing the Whimsun, Froggit, Moldsmal, Migosp, Loox, and Vegetoid to join him, Vance tried to recruit others. His first encounter was with an older Froggit, its eyes sharp and wary.
"I'm not going with you," it croaked, its voice cold and firm. "Humans—your kind—they've hurt us before. You expect me to trust you just because you smile and say you're different?"
Vance's heart sank as he met the Froggit's gaze. He knew this would be a challenge. He didn't want to fight—it was clear that these monsters had long memories of human cruelty, and even his attempts at peaceful resolutions hadn't fully healed those wounds.
"I'm not like the others," Vance said softly, his voice full of sincerity. "Please, I don't want to fight. I only want to help."
But the older Froggit simply shook its head and hopped away, wary of Vance's presence. It wasn't the only one. A few other older monsters rejected him outright, unwilling to trust a human even after he showed he wasn't interested in violence. The same reluctance showed in a Migosp and a Moldsmal—each one responding with suspicion or downright hostility, their bodies stiff and poised as if ready to attack at the slightest provocation.
"It's not about trust," one of the older monsters—an ancient Loox—had said, its glowing eyes narrowing. "It's about survival. You can't expect us to forget so easily."
Despite the refusal of these older monsters, Vance didn't give up. He kept moving, gathering what he could. His small group, though only made up of a handful of younger monsters, slowly made its way back to the sentient rock. The challenges of persuading the others weighed heavily on Vance, but in the midst of it all, something inside him began to shift.
As he dodged and carefully evaded attacks during his encounters, he found that he was growing better at controlling his Golden Soul. Each battle helped him become more accustomed to the emotions that triggered it—his determination, his hope, his desire to show kindness despite the harshness of the world around him. The more he practiced, the smoother his movements became. He no longer flinched when a monster launched an attack toward him. He had learned to move quickly and avoid harm, allowing him to maintain his composure in battle.
It was through these struggles that Vance found his control over the Golden Soul improving. The battles that had once felt overwhelming now became second nature, and he started to feel a connection to the soul type that had once been foreign to him. It wasn't just about survival—it was about growth, about proving that he could be more than what the monsters and humans alike had come to expect from him.
When the battles were over and Vance's group gathered around the rock monster, he noticed something else. The older monsters, who hadn't joined his cause, still offered him something valuable. As he returned to the room where the rock awaited, he was surprised to see the older Froggit and the others who had rejected him earlier standing nearby, each one holding out a small, shimmering pile of gold.
"I don't trust you yet," the older Froggit said quietly, almost reluctantly. "But I respect you. You fought well."
Another Loox, one who had earlier refused his request, gave him a small pile of gold as well. "Maybe... not all humans are the same," it said with a hint of uncertainty.
Vance's heart fluttered. These monsters, though still cautious, had acknowledged his efforts in a way that words alone couldn't. He understood then that giving gold to another monster after a battle was a custom—a tradition in the Ruins. It was a way of showing respect for the skill, for the effort, regardless of the outcome. Gold wasn't just currency—it was a symbol of honor.
He'd never known that before. In his past life, he hadn't been aware of these cultural nuances, but now, here in this world, he was beginning to see the deeper connections between all the creatures he had once seen as simply "monsters." They had their own rituals, their own ways of living, and their own forms of respect. And in this moment, Vance felt that respect toward him—and that made all the difference.
With a small smile, Vance accepted the gold, bowing his head in gratitude. "Thank you," he said, his voice soft. "I promise, I'll do my best to make things better for everyone."
Finally, with his motley crew of monsters in tow—most of them still wary but willing to give it a try—Vance returned to the room with the sentient rock. He felt a small sense of accomplishment, though he knew he had a lot more work ahead of him. When he arrived, the rock was still sitting motionless in its usual spot.
"I've brought them," Vance said, his voice weary but determined. "They're here to keep you company."
The rock's surface shifted, a sign of acknowledgment. "You did well, young human," it said, the tone softer now. "I will keep my word."
With a deep rumbling, the rock finally moved towards the metal plate, which then deactivated the spike traps allowing Vance to pass. The spike traps ahead were deactivated, and Vance, exhausted but relieved, smiled as he led the monsters into the next room.
"Thanks," Vance murmured to the rock. "And... I hope you're not too lonely anymore."
The rock responded with a deep, satisfied rumble, and Vance couldn't help but chuckle. It had been a strange task, but one that had helped him understand something important about the monsters here. Even the ones who seemed to be nothing more than hostile threats often had deeper needs, desires, and stories—stories Vance was beginning to uncover one monster at a time.