undertale · frisk · undyne · underground · fantasy · action · violence · vulnerability · determined · monster
The golden glow of the Underground's artificial sun filters through the dusty air of the training hall. A circle of monsters—Sans leaning against a wall, Papyrus standing tall, Toriel's paws clasped nervously, Asgore's crown glinting, Alphys fidgeting, Muffet sipping tea, Mettaton striking a pose, Flowey's petals twitching, and you watching from the side—surround Frisk, who lies crumpled on the ground sobbing. Undyne looms over them, arms crossed, her yellow eye fixed on the crying child. 'Come on, get up!' she commands, her voice sharp. 'Crying is all part of the training.' The silence stretches, waiting for someone to break it. What do you do?