Chapter 27: First Steps Beyond the Ruins

The moment Vance stepped beyond the Ruins' great archway, the air changed. The warm, earthy scent of ancient stone and glowing flowers gave way to something crisper—cold, fresh, and tinged with the faint aroma of pine. Snowdin.

He stopped in his tracks, his breath misting in the sudden chill. Before him stretched a vast, snow-covered forest, the towering trees draped in frost, their branches heavy with powdery white. The path ahead was well-trodden, marked by the footprints of monsters and the occasional paw print of something larger. The sky—or what passed for it in the Underground—was a deep, cavernous expanse, dotted with glittering crystals that mimicked stars.

Martlet, ever enthusiastic, fluffed her feathers against the cold. "Welcome to Snowdin Forest! Well, technically the outskirts—Lower Snowdin's just a little further ahead."

Garfield exhaled sharply, his breath a visible puff in the cold air. "Hope you packed something warm, kid. It only gets colder from here."

Vance blinked, his boots crunching softly against the snow as he took in the vast expanse of white that stretched before him. He had known Snowdin would be cold, but he hadn't expected it to be this cold. The air was crisp, carrying a biting chill that seeped into his skin despite his layered clothing.

He shivered slightly, pulling his borrowed coat tighter around himself. "I… didn't realize it'd be this different," he admitted.

Chara's voice echoed in his mind, sharp with amusement. "What, did you think the entire Underground was just a bunch of hallways and puzzles? This place is massive."

Vance exhaled, watching his breath curl into the air. "Yeah, I knew there'd be snow, but I didn't expect it to be this intense."

Truthfully, snow had been a rarity in his life—both in his previous and current one. On the surface, thanks to technological advancements and climate control, many cities had biospheres regulating their temperatures throughout the year. Seasonal changes were more of an event than a natural occurrence, with artificial weather shifts controlled for comfort. Unless it was an occasion or a designated area, snow rarely accumulated like this.

Here in the Underground, however, nature seemed untamed, untouched by human hands. Snow blanketed the ground in thick layers, clinging to tree branches and swirling gently through the air. The cold was real, biting, raw. For the first time in a long while, Vance felt what a true winter was like.

Nina's voice, quiet but filled with awe, murmured, "It's beautiful… I've never seen snow before."

Vance hesitated, glancing toward where her voice had come from, but of course, he couldn't see her or Chara right now. They were still recovering from their last encounter, their presence faint. Still, he could feel them—like whispers at the edge of his awareness.

He rubbed his gloved hands together for warmth before voicing a thought that had been bothering him since he arrived in the Underground. "Hey, Garfield… can I ask you something?"

The older monster gave a grunt, keeping his eyes ahead. "Sure, kid. Long as it ain't somethin' dumb."

Vance chuckled slightly. "I'll try. But… how does all of this exist down here?" He gestured around at the snowy landscape, the towering pines, the crisp air. "Snow, heat, water—there's so many different environments. But we're underground, right? Under a regular mountain. It shouldn't be possible for all of this to fit down here, let alone exist the way it does."

Garfield's ear twitched, and he let out a thoughtful hum. "Heh. Not a dumb question, then. You're right—it shouldn't be possible. But the Underground ain't exactly normal. Magic plays a big role in how things work here."

Vance frowned. "Magic? You mean, like, it just makes ecosystems appear?"

Garfield shook his head. "Not quite. It's more like magic influences the land, shaping it based on the monsters that live there. Take Snowdin, for example. Most of the monsters here are built for the cold—can't survive well in warmer areas. Over time, the magic in the Underground adapted to that, forming a climate that suited them."

Vance considered that, watching his breath fog up in the air. "So, what about places like Hotland? There's a whole active volcano down here, right?"

"Yup," Garfield confirmed. "Same thing. The monsters there are built for extreme heat, so the land adapted. It ain't perfect, though. Hotland needs the Core's energy to keep things stable. Without it, the heat would fade, and the whole place would turn barren."

Vance furrowed his brows. "What about Waterfall, then? If it's underground, where does all that water come from?"

Garfield let out a short chuckle. "That's one of the bigger mysteries, even to us. Some say there used to be a massive underground reservoir before the barrier went up. Others think the water comes from the surface, seeping through cracks in the rock over centuries. Either way, Waterfall's been around longer than anyone can remember."

Vance absorbed this information, realizing just how different the Underground was from the surface. It wasn't just a cave system—it was a world shaped by magic, by history, by the monsters who lived in it. It had adapted to them just as much as they had adapted to it.

"Man," he muttered, shaking his head. "This place is way bigger than I ever imagined."

As Vance walked through the snow-covered path of Snowdin Forest, his boots crunching against the packed ice, he kept his gaze forward, taking in the towering pines that loomed over them like silent watchers. The cold bit at his exposed skin, but he found himself adjusting to it, his body gradually warming from the steady movement.

His mind, however, was far from at ease.

This journey… it wasn't exactly like the one he had once known from Undertale. The route was different, the circumstances were different, and most importantly—he was different. He wasn't Frisk, blindly following the pre-laid path toward an inevitable confrontation with Asgore. He had his own reasons for being here, his own stakes, and his own uncertainties to navigate.

I have to be careful what I think about.

Vance had quickly learned that Chara and Nina could hear his outward thoughts, at least when their connection was stronger. He still wasn't sure how deep that connection ran, but he had already experienced moments where they responded to things he barely meant to say aloud. If he wanted to think things through without interruption, he needed to keep his thoughts guarded, separate from them.

As he focused on isolating his mind, he went over his priorities.

First—getting through Snowdin safely.

The journey so far had been calm, but Snowdin Forest was vast, and he knew better than to assume he wouldn't run into trouble. Monsters weren't naturally aggressive, but they followed instincts, and he wasn't about to let himself be caught off guard.

Second—figuring out what he was going to do about Asgore.

Martlet and Garfield had assured him that Asgore had peaceful intentions toward him. But could he really believe that?

He had already made the mistake of trusting too easily before. Flowey had manipulated him, twisting his doubts into a reckless decision that nearly destroyed his relationship with Toriel. If he had been more rational back then, if he hadn't been so desperate to prove himself, maybe things wouldn't have escalated the way they had.

And yet…

Even now, after months of living in the Ruins, of seeing the pain in Toriel's eyes when she spoke of the past, he still didn't know what he would do when he finally stood before the King of Monsters.

What could he do?

Would Asgore demand his soul?

Would he attack, despite what the others claimed?

Would Vance even be able to fight back if it came to that?

A cold gust of wind swept through the trees, pulling him from his thoughts. He tightened his grip on his coat, glancing at his traveling companions.

Garfield walked ahead, his broad frame cutting an imposing figure against the snowy backdrop. His thick fur seemed unbothered by the chill, and he moved with the ease of someone who had walked these paths countless times. Martlet, by contrast, moved with a more casual grace, her talon-like feet barely leaving a trace in the snow.

Neither of them seemed particularly worried about the road ahead.

Vance let out a quiet sigh.

He wished he could be that confident.

"Getting cold?" Martlet's voice broke through his thoughts, her bright eyes flickering toward him.

Vance shook his head. "Nah, just thinking."

Garfield snorted. "Try not to think too hard, kid. Snowdin's pretty, but if you ain't paying attention, you can still end up in trouble."

"Noted," Vance muttered, rubbing his hands together.

He had a lot more he needed to figure out, but dwelling on it now wasn't going to do him any good. He had to focus on the present—on reaching Snowdin Town, getting whatever information he could, and preparing himself for what lay beyond.

Because whatever waited for him in New Home…

He wasn't going to walk into it blind.

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Vance's breath was steady as they pressed further into the woods, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Snowdin Forest had an eerie kind of stillness to it. Despite the occasional rustling of branches from the wind or the soft sound of their footsteps, there was something about the way the snow absorbed sound that made it feel like the whole world had gone quiet.

It made him uneasy.

"Hey," he spoke up, glancing at Garfield. "Have there been any monster attacks in the area recently?"

The older monster raised a brow. "You mean like wild attacks? Nah, nothing major. The monsters here are mostly peaceful. A few might challenge you for sport, but that's normal."

Martlet smirked. "What, worried about running into something dangerous?"

Vance frowned. "More like… surprised that things have been this easy so far."

Garfield let out a short chuckle. "Kid, you're travelin' with two members of the Royal Guard. Most monsters know better than to pick a fight with us."

Vance glanced between them. That was true. Both Garfield and Martlet were experienced fighters—if anyone was watching them from the shadows, they were probably thinking twice about making a move.

Still… he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Keep your guard up.

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Vance trudged through the thick snow of Snowdin Forest, his boots sinking into the powdery ground with each step. The cold air nipped at his cheeks, turning them a rosy hue, and his breath formed small clouds that quickly dissipated into the crisp atmosphere. The towering pine trees, their branches heavy with snow, created a canopy that filtered the dim light of the Underground, casting intricate shadows on the forest floor.​

As he walked, Vance couldn't help but marvel at the vastness of the Underground. In the game, areas like Snowdin had seemed compact, almost simplistic. But here, in reality, the Underground stretched out endlessly, a sprawling world teeming with life and diverse environments. It was astonishing to think that an entire civilization thrived beneath a single mountain.​

The game really didn't do justice to the scale of this place, Vance mused silently. To house the entire monster race, even after their numbers dwindled post-war, the Underground must accommodate a population comparable to a small city or even a small country.

His thoughts drifted to the history of monsters. Before the war with humans, monsters had constituted about 30% of the global population, a significant number considering the vastness of humanity. However, unlike humans, monsters faced challenges in reproduction. Their procreation wasn't as straightforward; it required a convergence of magic and mutual consent, making the process both sacred and less frequent. This method of reproduction, deeply intertwined with their magical essence, meant that monster populations grew at a much slower rate compared to humans.​

These reproductive intricacies contributed to the current population size of the Underground. While exact numbers were elusive, estimates suggested a population ranging from thousands to possibly over half a million monsters. Such a vast community necessitated an expansive habitat, explaining the extensive and varied landscapes Vance now traversed.​

The sheer diversity of environments—from the frigid expanse of Snowdin to the fiery realms of Hotland—was a testament to the adaptability and resilience of monsterkind. Each area tailored itself to the inhabitants' needs, a harmonious blend of magic and nature.​

Vance's thoughts shifted to his current mission. His journey through Snowdin differed markedly from Frisk's path in the game. While Frisk had followed a more linear route, Vance found himself navigating alternative passages, perhaps less traveled but equally perilous. These deviations weren't merely for exploration; they were strategic, allowing him to gather information and resources without drawing unnecessary attention.

The looming encounter with King Asgore weighed heavily on his mind. Martlet and Garfield had assured him of Asgore's peaceful intentions, emphasizing the king's desire for harmony and understanding. However, Vance couldn't afford to be complacent. His earlier naivety with Flowey had taught him the dangers of blind trust. The memory of that deception, leading to a confrontation with Toriel, still stung. He had acted irrationally, driven by misplaced trust and a lack of foresight.​

I can't let that happen again, he resolved internally. I need to approach Asgore with caution, gather as much information as possible, and be prepared for any outcome.

To ensure his thoughts remained private, Vance had trained himself to compartmentalize his mind. Chara and Nina, ever-present in his consciousness, had the ability to perceive his outward thoughts. By isolating his inner contemplations, he maintained a semblance of privacy, a necessary precaution in this unpredictable world.​

The forest around him seemed to sense his determination. The whispering wind through the trees, the distant calls of Snowdrakes, and the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet created a symphony of the wild, both calming and invigorating.​

As he pressed on, Vance encountered various monsters native to Snowdin. Some were monster species shown in game such as anthropomorphic dogs like Dogamy and Dogaressa —while others were new, their forms and behaviors a testament to the rich biodiversity of the Underground. He approached each encounter with empathy and caution, understanding that every interaction could yield valuable insights or unforeseen challenges.

A few hours had passed since they had begun their trek through the snow-laden paths of Snowdin, and the chill had begun to settle deep into Vance's bones. Though he had grown used to the cold, it still gnawed at his fingers and toes despite the layers he wore. His breath curled in the air as he exhaled, watching the vapor drift and dissipate in the dim light of the Underground.

According to Garfield, they were close to their stop for the night. "Shouldn't be much longer now," the old monster muttered, his breath visible as he trudged ahead. "Honeydew Resort is just up the road. Maybe another ten, fifteen minutes. We oughta get a move on before it gets any later."

Vance glanced upward instinctively, though there was no sky to judge the time by—only the ever-present glow of the ceiling's enchanted minerals. But down here, time still moved as it did on the surface, and monsters had long since developed artificial signals to keep track of the hours. Streetlamps and scattered lanterns flickered on along the path ahead, a sign that night had officially begun in the Underground.

Martlet stretched her arms behind her head and sighed. "Man, I can't wait to get there. I bet the baths are all nice and warm this time of year."

Vance tilted his head. "Baths?"

"Oh, yeah! Honeydew Resort isn't just an inn, it's got a natural hot spring, too." Martlet grinned. "You're gonna love it. The water stays nice and warm all year round, thanks to some leftover geothermal energy from Hotland."

That caught Vance's interest. A natural hot spring in Snowdin? It made sense—after all, if Hotland's heat could sustain the Core, it wasn't impossible for traces of that warmth to seep into the farthest reaches of the Underground.

"I'm starting to think this is gonna be the best part of the trip so far," he admitted with a small laugh.

Martlet smirked. "Told ya. Oh, speaking of—" She pointed ahead, toward a small crossroads where a large, oddly-shaped rock sat in the center. "We're almost there. See that rock? Once you hit that, you're basically at Honeydew Resort."

She then gestured toward a side path branching off to the left. "I actually live nearby. My place is just down that way."

Vance raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you live in Snowdin? Not New Home?"

Martlet shook her head. "Nah. I like it here. It's peaceful. Besides, I get to meet all sorts of travelers passing through. Makes life interesting."

Vance nodded, understanding the sentiment. The thought of stopping for the night in a warm resort after a long day of walking was a relief. He quickened his pace slightly, eager to reach their destination.

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The warm lights of Honeydew Resort shimmered through the trees, their glow casting long, flickering shadows along the snow-covered path. The cold air had turned sharper now, the night fully settling over the Underground.

Vance rolled his shoulders, feeling the ache of the long journey settle into his muscles. The thought of a hot spring, a warm meal, and an actual bed sounded like heaven after so many hours of walking. Even Garfield, with his usual gruff demeanor, seemed eager to rest, his pace slightly quicker as they neared the resort's entrance.

But then—

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold crawled up Vance's spine.

He stopped abruptly, his golden soul giving off a faint, instinctive pulse of warning.

Something wasn't right.

The air felt… heavier. Not in a physical way, but magically.

Martlet, who had been walking ahead, turned back at the sudden pause in movement. "Huh? What's up, Vance?"

Vance didn't answer immediately. His gaze flickered toward the surrounding forest. The dense, snow-laden trees were silent—too silent.

"…Something's off," he muttered.

Garfield grunted, crossing his arms. "What're you on about, kid?"

"I don't know." Vance frowned. "I just have a bad feeling."

Martlet blinked. "Wait, is this, like, a human thing? Some kind of surface-dweller instinct?"

Vance's fingers twitched. No.

This wasn't just a bad feeling.

This was something deeper. Something he had felt before.

The same gut-wrenching sensation he had when he met Flowey for the first time.

His golden soul flickered beneath his skin, and for a brief second, he thought he heard something. A faint whisper—or was it breathing?

Then—

SNAP.

The sound of a branch breaking.

Vance barely had time to react before something lurched from the trees.

A monstrous shape crashed into the snow, its limbs twitching unnaturally, its form writhing as if it couldn't decide what shape to take.

The moment it hit the ground, it let out a garbled, broken sound—something between a shriek and a groan, like multiple voices speaking at once but distorted beyond recognition.

Martlet yelped, jumping back, while Garfield instinctively stepped in front of Vance.

"What in the Core's name is that?!" Martlet gasped.

Vance's stomach twisted as he got a better look at it.

It was an Amalgamate.

A horrifying, unstable fusion of multiple monsters.

But unlike the ones he had read about—the ones that had been created in the True Lab—this one shouldn't exist here.

Garfield's entire body tensed. His sharp eyes darted between its shifting limbs, its leaking, blackened essence. "No… this ain't right."

The creature twitched, its many limbs spasming as its body pulsed like it was barely holding itself together. It had no eyes. No mouth. No clear shape.

Just an endless shifting mass.

Martlet took a slow step forward, hand gripping the hilt of her weapon. "H-Hey… are you… are you a monster? Can you hear us?"

The thing froze.

Then, it lunged.

Straight for Vance.

Garfield moved instantly, shoving Vance aside as the creature's mass slammed into the snow with a sickening squelch.

"Kid, stay back!" Garfield barked, drawing his weapon.

Martlet was already moving, sliding into a defensive stance. "Restrain it! We don't know what the hell this thing is yet!"

The Amalgamate shrieked, its body contorting violently before **splitting—**a second limb forming, its shape snapping between solid and liquid in an unnatural display of instability.

It was in pain.

And yet—it kept attacking.

Vance scrambled to his feet, his pulse hammering in his ears.

Why?

Why was there an Amalgamate here?

Those things… they were supposed to be contained. Hidden.

Not out here. Not near Snowdin.

His soul pulsed violently, flickering between gold and silver.

Martlet lunged forward, swinging her weapon—but before it could connect, the Amalgamate melted out of the way, its body reforming behind her like a shifting shadow.

"Damn it—!"

Garfield moved in next, his strikes aimed not to kill, but to force it back. "Talk to us, damn it! Are you even still in there?!"

The thing convulsed at his words, its entire body seizing for a moment—before it let out a horrible, glitching wail.

A plea.

A cry.

But for what?

Martlet's expression twisted. "It's suffering…"

Vance clenched his fists.

This wasn't just a monster gone wild.

This was something else.

Something worse.

And it wasn't supposed to exist.

The Amalgamate lurched again, its mass bubbling like it was on the verge of collapsing entirely.

And then—

It spoke.

A broken, glitched-out voice screeched through the air, overlapping with itself like a corrupted recording:

"C—c-a…—n't…s…stop—h—help…"

Vance's breath caught.

It was begging.

Martlet's grip tightened around her weapon. "Vance, we can't just fight this thing! We need to—"

But before she could finish—

The Amalgamate's body EXPLODED outward, a mass of black tendrils launching in every direction.

The last thing Vance saw before the world blurred into chaos—

Was a wave of darkness rushing toward him.