Frisk watched the blacksmiths preparing for war. Everyone needed top notch armor- whether built or polished or repaired.

A tap on her shoulder made her turn.

"MISS DREEMURR, ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT?" Papyrus asked.

Since her meeting with Gaster, Frisk had felt more tired. She knew it was the weight of her new power.

With her death, she could control time itself.

"I'm alright Professor."

"ALRIGHT. BUT WE NEED EVERYONE IN TIP TOP SHAPE!"

She smiled as he walked away.