Warm sunlight descends from the crack in the cavernous roof. It floods the hollow rocky tower. Directly underneath the natural spotlight, a bed of Golden Flowers blossoms, so close together that the green grass can only be seen around the edges of the main cluster. Beyond the grass, the lightless ground is made from light gray stone, a thin layer of dust lying across the rock. Deep in the darkness, the entrance to a wider world can be faintly perceived, if only because it is blacker than its surroundings.

In the cluster of flowers, a teenager lies half-consciously, staring up at the morning sun that seems to peer into the core of a mountain it will never know. She lies there for a long moment, face plain with apathy and something shriller than simple boredom. She reaches her hand upwards, trying to grasp the fading warmth. Her fingers easily pull at the threads of light, unable to grasp what has no form. It reminds her of magic, but there is nothing special about the condescension of the sunlight.

"Frisk, what are we doing back here?" A voice calls out. A figure leans over Frisk's body. Their body is translucent, allowing some of the sunlight to slide right through them. They cast no shadow on the ground, but a few appear across their face to give the impression of darkness across their face. They frown subtly, looking around Frisk's body for the answer. "What happened at the Barrier? Didn't you escape?"

Frisk does not answer Chara. In one smooth motion, she rises to her feet. She keeps her face turned toward the sun, letting the warmth flood across her cold cheeks. The longer she stands in the yellow bath, the more she realizes that she might be incapable of capturing that heat for herself. A burdensome chill races through her spine, clawing at her innards with the ferocity of a starving beast. The temperature continues to drop as Frisk feels an unusual weight slide across her collarbone. She moves her hand from capturing the sunlight to touching the weight, and she feels the shadows curling around her fingertips. A voice whispers right in her ear, "Are you ready?"

Frisk tilts her head toward the entrance to the cavern. She notices the cyan circular eyes of her newest companion shining through a mask of darkness. The only other part of the ghost with color is the cyan ribbon pulling back what resembles hair but is not made from the same substance. The HATE eidolon of the cyan SOUL removes their arms from Frisk's shoulders, taking a step back to stand in front of her. The cyan eidolon continues to say, "We'll only go when you're ready."

"I'm ready," Frisk whispers, her voice echoing with many others as if a chorus was singing from the depths of her throat.

"Ready for what?" Chara asks, floating hesitantly around Frisk. She reaches her hands forward, almost touching Frisk but remaining a few inches away for reasons Frisk doesn't understand. Nor does she truly care about what those reasons could be.

Frisk steps past Chara. The cyan eidolon giggles as they watch Frisk kick the edge of a stick. The wooden appendage flies up into the air, and Frisk catches it. She twists the stick in her hands, and a red light ripples across the debarked surface. Chara reaches a hand out, trying to grab Frisk's shoulders. Her hand slides right through, and Frisk doesn't even look back as she presses onward on her journey.

"Happy birthday, dearest," A woman whispers, kneeling down behind her daughter. She moves her arms around her daughter's body. She holds a present up at the daughter's chest. The daughter's face splits with a bright smile as she grabs onto the present. She pulls at the ribbon, letting it fall to the ground. She unfolds the wrapping carefully like her mother taught her. When she pulls the box out of the wrapping, her mother catches the paper before it can fall to the ground. A beautiful wooden doll with ball joints rests in the cushioning of the box, face perpetually trapped in serenity.

"I love it!" She gasps happily. She drops the box as she lifts the doll out of the box. She pulls the doll against her chest, squeezing so tightly that she is worried the fragile toy will shatter beneath the intensity.

"Hey, don't forget my present," Her father chuckles as he comes to stand near his wife and daughter. He leans down onto one of his knees, pulling out a crudely wrapped present from his back pocket. She sets the doll back into the box as she grabs the present her father has given her. Without caring for the paper, she tears it apart. When she pulls the lid off the box, she finds a toy knife made from painted wood. Her eyes widen as she grabs onto the hilt of the fake weapon, holding it up. The smile on her face rivals the one she wore when she received the toy doll.

"Silvanus," The woman warns. She picks up the wrapping paper and the boxes on the ground, lifting them as she stands up.

"What?" The man asks innocently, eyes sparkling with rebellion.

"I love it," She cries. She rushes forward, crashing into her father's chest. He wraps his arms around her, setting his chin on her shoulder. When she pulls back, she gives her father a wide smile. "Thank you, Papa. I love you."

"I love you, too, Diana," Her father says, putting his hand on her cheek. He leans forward, and they press their foreheads together.

"What are you doing?!" Chara screams, reaching forward for the dust blowing away in a strange unnatural wind. She grasps some of it, but all this serves to do is stain her hands gray. The monster that was slain is gone, scattering across the ruins.

Frisk doesn't say anything. She keeps moving forward, stepping over some of the dust that has collected into a pile on the stone ground. Cyan dances, the shadows flaring out like the skirt of a dress. They snap back when she stops, leaning forward to speak to Frisk. "That was lovely. You chose the perfect moment to strike!"

Frisk ignores Cyan, too, as she glances around for her next target. Chara floats in front of Frisk, arms spread wide as if she could stop Frisk from moving. All Frisk has to do is keep moving, and she effortlessly passes through Chara's body. The ghost hisses at the feeling, looking over their shoulder at Frisk's retreating form with a mix of emotions on their face.

Cyan stands around the edge of the path, spreading their shadowy hand across the ruined surfaces. Frisk can hear the wicked smile in their voice as they begin speaking, "Do you know why humans are the top species? It is because of our PATIENCE. We are able to wait for our prey to come to us. We waste no energy while the helpless rabbits and deers of the world waste all of their energy fleeing. Humans are excellent hunters, and my dear Red, you are shaping up to be one of the best."

Cyan moves to stand in front of Frisk, but they move backwards to guarantee that Frisk doesn't pass through them. They tuck both of their arms behind their back. "I'll teach you how to be the best monster hunter."

"It's cold," She complains, putting her hands up to her face to breathe warm air against her pale fingers. She pulls her hands away, rubbing them together in an attempt to create enough friction to chase away the winter weather.

"Just a little longer, yeah?" Silvanus murmurs, looking out of the stand. He holds a spirit weapon in the shape of a hunting rifle in his hands, aiming the muzzle out of the window. He scans the white and brown forest all around them, searching for other spots of color in the waxing light.

"You said that an hour ago," She remarks, slumping down from her position. Her eyes swing upwards, looking at the sky between the interlocking branches of the nearby trees. The sky is mostly dark, dusted with starlight and sprinkled with the velvety purple of early morning. She has been out here since even before dawn, and she is growing weary.

"Be patient, love," Silvanus reminds her. He pulls one hand away from his gun to touch her head. He smooths out her hair, and she glances over at him. Silvanus wears a half-smile on his face as he puts his hand back on the trigger. "This is the key to hunting. You must remain vigilant. You must wait for the prey to come to you. But most of all, you must be ready to strike when it does appear, swift and uncompromising. You've spent so long waiting, after all. You can't let it run away from you."

All of a sudden, the gun goes off. She startles, eyes swiveling around to the forest floor. The corpse of a rabbit with fur as white as the snow around it lies near the base of a tree. Blood slides out of the creature around it, staining the niveous purity. Silvanus pulls away, removing his finger from the trigger. His spirit weapon disappears in a flurry of PATIENCE mana particles. He shifts his body, giving his full attention to his daughter. "Remember: vigilance, patience, action. The three tenants of hunting."

"We have to go after it," Cyan hisses, watching Froggit hop away, parts of its disintegrating body already reforming as it flees.

"Leave it be," Chara warns, desperation evident in her tone.

Frisk shifts her body, moving her arm backwards. The stick in her hand begins to glow a red color like hot iron. Frisk throws the stick forward like a javelin. It strikes through Froggit's body. The monster makes a sad croaking noise as it collapses into a pile of dust. Frisk marches over to retrieve the stick from the ground. As Frisk leans down to pick it up, she hears Cyan's voice. "I didn't know you could do that. It seems we chose the perfect vessel for our HATE."

"Why won't you just give up? It isn't too late," Chara asks, grabbing onto Frisk's wrist as she stands up with her stick. Frisk yanks her wrist through Chara's ghostly hand. She turns, preparing herself for the next fight.

"Look at you," Her mother whispers, standing at the door frame. The woman steps into the room, her dress swishing around her like the flowing fabric is part of her. The woman reaches her hands out, cupping her daughter's face. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mama," She says respectfully, giving her mother a pleasant smile.

"You are only missing one thing," Venus notes. She pulls away from her daughter, reaching into the vanity beside the two of them. She leans down to pull open the bottom drawer. She pulls something out of the drawer, pushes it back into the vanity. When she stands back up, she holds an embroidered ribbon in her hands. Venus reaches her hands out, pulling her daughter's hair back. Venus uses the ribbon to tie Diana's hair back, removing the one curtain that could hide her daughter's beauty.

"It looks lovely," Diana notes, reaching a hand up to set it on top of the hands her mother placed on her shoulder. Diana looks over her shoulder to smile up at her mother.

"Like a doll," Venus notes, leaning forward to kiss her daughter's forehead.

"Stay still. I'll help you," Cyan says, putting their hands on Frisk's shoulders. Frisk's red SOUL suddenly turns the same cyan color as the eidolon's eyes. Napstablook's tears suddenly pass through Frisk's cyan heart without dealing any damage to Frisk. "Wait for your chance, and..."

Napstablook runs out of tears. Frisk's heart returns to its normal red color, and she shoots forward. She strikes her stick forward, but it passes through Napstablook's body. The ghost-monster stares at Frisk with hollow sadness, and suddenly, they disappear without turning to dust. Frisk twists the stick in their fingertips, a sudden flash of anger burning inside of them. It is only washed away by Cyan putting a hand on Frisk's shoulder. "Easy, Frisk."

"Do you see how pointless all of this is, now?" Chara demands, remaining several feet away from Frisk. She has her arms crossed over her chest, and she floats a few inches off the ground. She turns her head away, letting darkness fall over her expression. Only the grim line her lips are set in is visible to Frisk as she looks at her former companion that continues to fight for Frisk to regain some sensibility.

"It is not pointless. It will only take some time, but we have more than enough of that, do we not, Frisk?" Cyan argues even though Chara is incapable of seeing Cyan. Frisk is the only one who can hear, but she doesn't have the brainpower to agree or disagree. She only stands back up, pushing Cyan off her unintentionally. Cyan makes a humming noise as she watches Frisk pressing onward, deeper into the ruins and the Underground.

"Don't tell me you brought that toy with you." Venus complains, dropping her forehead into her palm.

"Papa said to always be prepared," Diana argues, holding the wooden knife to her chest. The paint is beginning to peel and the 'blade' is covered in knicks, but she continues to carry around the toy. Not only is there a practical application of the toy, but it carries memories of her time with her father. She feels happier with it on her no matter where she goes, hunting with her father or festive balls with her mother.

"Why would you need that toy here?" Venus asks, using her hand to gesture around them. The darkness of the courtyard clashes with the golden light pouring out of the mansion's many windows, creating a sort of twilight where many guests are engaging in private conversations, including a mother and her daughter.

"You never know. Vigilance, patience, action. I have vigilance and PATIENCE. I need this for action," Diana explains. She lowers the toy down, staring at the way the half-light slides across the shiny surface.

"Yes, I am well-aware of your father's motto," Venus breathes out harshly from her nose, nostrils flaring. She shakes her head. She reaches a hand toward her daughter. "Very well. You may keep the toy so long as no one sees it."

Diana grins. She returns the knife to the pocket in her skirt. She takes her mother's hand, and they walk back into the ballroom.

Frisk leans down, examining the object with fascination. She reaches out, picking up the hilt. The object is worn, faded, but it remains sturdy as she closes her fingers around the hilt. She hears Cyan intake a sharp breath. Cyan steps forward, leaning down to touch the object in Frisk's hand. "My old toy knife. Papa gave it to me."

Cyan draws their hand away as if the blade were real and had cut them. Cyan looks away from the knife, staring out at the ruins in the distance. Cyan is quiet for a long moment before whispering, "You can have it. I have no use for it now."

Frisk replaces her stick for the toy knife. She holds it firmly in her hands. When she turns around, Chara is standing there with a pensive face. "Why are you doing this? What's the point?"

Frisk says nothing, unaware of what the answer is to either question. She cannot even find the source of anger and hatred, only that it exists somewhere deep inside of her.

Diana holds her breath as the deer leaps into view. It noses the ground, searching for something to eat. She aims the gun at the creature. She releases her breath at the same time she pulls the trigger. The sound spooks the deer. It jolts forward, and the bullet tears through the back of the creature. Its movement became more sporadic as it felt the pain, barrelling forward and leaving a trail of blood. Diana releases a quick sigh as she jumps to her feet. Her boots crunch the ice as she follows the red trail through the forest.

Diana is so focused on the deer that she misses a rock jutting out of the stone, the gray color merging with the monotony of the snow. She stumbles, and suddenly, she's careening downwards. The gun slides out of her grip as she continues rolling. She grapples for the snow to slow her down, but she isn't able to stop herself from landing next to a hole in the ground. She stares in the darkness as she puts her hands down on the thin layer of snow melting underneath her body heat. The melting snow is slick, and she hits the ground again. This time, she hits it with enough force that the rocks at the edges of the gap crumbles. Diana releases a terrified scream as she drops into the awaiting arms of the darkness below.

She lands in a cluster of Golden Flower, the winter sunlight falling across her scraped body. She releases a heavy breath, sitting up immediately. She looks up, wondering if she could scale the rock face to return to the surface. As Diana reaches a hand up, she hears a voice call out behind her. "Oh, dear, are you okay? That was quite the nasty fall you took there. Can I help you?"

A figure steps out of the darkness, and Diana's eyes widen as she discovers that the fairytales her father told her were true.

"Are you seeing my memories?" Cyan asks, sitting on the bed as Frisk wakes up. Cyan has her knees pressed up to her chest. She stares across the room, avoiding the way Chara is glaring at Frisk on the other side of the room. "I heard some thaumaturges can do that. It's one of the Basic Magics, isn't it? SOUL reading... I learned about it in class a long time ago."

Frisk sits up, pushing the blanket off of her. She stands up beside the bed, startling Chara. Cyan doesn't move, though their cyan eyes follow Frisk. "You're right. We don't have time for a past I can never have again or idle chit-chat about thaumaturgy neither of us will use."

"Frisk," Chara calls out, pushing off the wall. She comes to stand in front of Frisk, eyes narrowed. "I don't know why you're doing this, but you need to stop it. RESET."

"Doesn't she know? It's too late to go back," Cyan murmurs, standing up. She places a hand on the toy knife left on the dresser beside the bed. "We should get back to the hunt."

Diana hides in the depths of the ruins. Her stomach rumbles angrily, demanding food that she won't give it. Her throat burns from dehydration, and her vision is swimming with black spots and general blurriness. Nausea ransacks her entire form, leaving her a shivering mess, but she has nothing to spare.

She leans down, lying on the ground. She feels like she's floating, hovering between one state and another. She weakly reaches her hand out, waiting for her mother to catch it. She can almost smell the floral scent of her mother's perfume. She can feel her mother's meticulous fingers brushing through her hair. She can hear her mother's soft singing, the words in a language Diana does not know. It warms her shivering body in a way that not even the brightest fires could.

She feels her father hugging her from behind, tucking his head on top of her head. She can hear him humming a working song to himself as he carves at the kitchen table. She can see him smiling at her in the corner of her eye as she completes her first hunt. The weight of his pride paradoxically makes her feel like she's flying.

Tears slide down her eyes as a final breath escapes her chest. Her SOUL threads together in front of her body, floating and spinning in slow circles. As her body returns to the earth, someone finds her. They take her SOUL and gracefully bury her body. They don't even notice the toy knife lying on the ground or the ribbon that flies out of her hair.

"Why?" Chara whispers tearfully, hunched over the disintegrating form of Toriel. The former queen does not know that her adopted daughter is there to witness this, her sad eyes aimed only at Frisk's merciless expression. Toriel fully disappears. The ruins are deathly silent, the only sound being Chara's muted sobbing.

Frisk walks passed Chara and the dust pile. Before she can continue, however, Chara grabs onto her hand with more solidity than a ghost should possess. Chara glares up at Frisk. The impact of her anger is lessened by the teary eyes, but even if Chara was entirely made from anger, Frisk is far too gone to actually care about that. She only stares down as Chara pulls Frisk's arm to give herself enough leverage to stand up. "What the hell is wrong with you?! She didn't do anything to you! She treated you like her child, and you- you- you fucker!"

Chara grabs onto Frisk's shoulders, getting in Frisk's face. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, damnit!"

Frisk tilts her head to the side in annoyance, but she opens her eyes completely. Chara startles back, releasing Frisk's shoulders as she stumbles back. "What the hell...?"

The sclera of Frisk's eyes are completely black. Her irises are glowing the same color as red spider lilies. Frisk's grip tightens around the toy knife, her fingertips stained with the shadows covering Cyan's body. Frisk bears no expression as Chara's face tightens with anger. She takes one more step back, and then she's gone.

"Congratulations, red, you've hunted all of your prey in the ruins. I wish you luck as you continue," Cyan says. They step backwards, pushing the door to Snowdin open. As they step into the snow, they disappear. Frisk doesn't pay attention to her newfound loneliness as she steps into the snow.

*You are filled with TOLERANCE