KNOCK ON WOOD - Snowdin Forest 2 (Ch.15) (Patreon)

“Yes, I kn--Yes, Mr. Peers, I am certain that your apartment is in one piece and safe to move back into. Yes, the Whimsun team determined that the ceiling wasn’t likely to collapse any further.”

“But can you really be sure?” the blue Migosp questioned, squinting suspiciously. “We didn’t think it could happen in the first place, and what do those pansy fairies know about geography anyway?”

“Geology, Mr. Peers,” Toriel corrected tiredly. “And leaving Whindsor’s masters degree aside, they entered the structure above us and mapped what remains out. There are no tunnels above your neighborhood to fall.”

“Yeah, but--”

“Honey, please. Don’t you want to get back into a proper bed?” his wife said. Peers grumbled, but ceded the argument and allowed his spouse to lead him away.

Toriel sighed in relief. Things were winding down, but there were always going to be difficult people.

Everyone who was moving back mostly had already, with only a few stragglers remaining. The monsters of Refuge Row were split between two factions: the ones who hated the extended camping trip and left to return to their homes as soon as it was possible, and the ones who either didn’t trust that it was safe or weren’t bothered enough by current living conditions to want to go back. The Peers couple were among those who were somewhere in the middle--cautious, but homesick.

Toriel wished she could be confident that there would be no more quakes, but she had taken every precaution she could think of and performed every test available to her, called upon every expert she could find, and altogether she was now as sure as it was possible to be that no more cave-ins were incoming.

The only crack in her surety was that no one could figure out why the earthquakes had happened in the first place. There didn’t seem to be a geological reason for it as far as anyone could tell. Toriel had gone so far as to contact the Royal Scientist (well, she got someone else to call them at least) and ask if they had any idea what had caused it, and no answer was forthcoming.

For some reason Toriel couldn’t seem to remember who the Royal Scientist was, or had been, but she did recall that the main laboratory was in Hotland, so if the tremors had come from the volcano they should know, yes?

At any rate, it seemed as if nothing Underground had caused the quake. But that was ridiculous. If it wasn’t caused by the shifting of the earth, then what could possibly have caused it? The idea that the humans had done something that could have such enormous effects was… too unpleasant to contemplate.

Toriel shook her head, forcing her wandering mind on track. Daydreaming about maybes and possibilities would do nothing but cause her stress. Think positive! Maybe now that things were slowing down, she could finally give the human child the attention they no doubt needed.

…Where was the little dear, actually? Toriel had only seen them in passing the past few days.

A surge of guilt flooded through her, and she stretched to her full height to look over the entire hallway. What was she thinking? The poor child must have been so lost without anyone to… No, that’s not quite right. The other monsters of the Ruins had been surprisingly kind with the human, but that still didn’t excuse her lack of action. She had claimed responsibility over every human that fell into the Ruins of Home, and yet she had shirked her self-appointed duties.

Well, it wasn’t too late to start correcting that mistake. The child had been fine so far, and now Toriel would see to it herself that they stayed that way.

The child’s everpresent blue suit and striped sweater should have stood out in the crowd, but she couldn’t see them anywhere. They were short, though, and so perhaps they were merely hidden beneath the taller monsters? Where was somewhere they liked to go? The child wandered pretty much everywhere, so there was no telling where they could be now…

…Ah, the bake sale. She remembered seeing them there often, getting lunch, which was unhealthy, children needed more than pastries to grow up healthy. Didn’t they? Toriel would need to dig up her old notes about how humans reacted to monster food in the long term, she’d quite forgotten. It hadn’t been an issue, since--

She made her way to the booth, but before she got there she found herself confused by the lack of the smell of bread in the air. The spiders’ ovens were cold. That… hadn’t happened before, in her recollection.

The booth was all but empty, but she rang the bell anyway. A few seconds later with no response, and she rang it again.

(“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”)

The large spider baker shuffled out of the main tent, carrying a dustpan and brush between his back four legs. He set them aside against the tent pole and clambered up to the counter with a chittering huff.

(“What is it? Can’t you see we’re closed? Your majesty,”) he added as an afterthought.

Toriel frowned at his tone but brushed it aside. “Terrence, where is everyone? I haven’t seen the bakery stop working since it moved here.”

The tarantula shrugged, wiping some lint off the counter. (“We ran out of ingredients. I stayed behind to do some cleaning and hold down the fort while the rest went back home to restock.”)

Oh, well, that made sense. “Ah, I see.”

(“If you’re that desperate for something, I have a few bagels set aside. They’re cold though, and no spiders in’em.”)

“No, that’s fine, I--Actually, maybe I would like a bagel, thank you.” She handed the spider ten coins and he returned with the item. “Thank you, dear, I forgot breakfast this morning.” After taking a bite, she continued. “I actually had a different question in mind when I came here. Have you seen the human anywhere? I can’t find them.”

Terrence scoffed and jumped off the counter. (“Nah, they went and followed the boys. I doubt they got too far, though, the nest’s not got many entrances big enough for them.”)

Toriel considered that, and relaxed a little. She wasn’t sure where the Ruins spiders made their home, but as long as they were still in the Ruins they were safe. Briefly, she considered going to continue looking for them… but Toriel could admit to herself that she was quite large. She couldn’t go everywhere the child could, and certainly not where the spiders could.

The child would return to their tent when they were tired, and she’d begin making up for lost time in the morning.

…Perhaps she would ask some Whimsuns to keep an eye out for them. Just in case.

--------------------------------------

Snowdin Forest

A line of spiders weaved between the trees. They scuttled over pine needles, following a path that only they could see. The jumping spider called David took the lead, hopping from trunk to trunk and ‘scouting’ ahead. Whatever purpose he was actually serving was unknown, as the caravan’s pace was unbroken and ceaseless. Two particularly large spiders were hitched to a sled, upon which sat a large chest filled with coins that clinked and jingled with every bump of the trail.

Frisk was trying to avoid looking at the big spiders. They’d gotten used to the little ones, and even the bigger chef. They even thought some of them were kinda cute, sort of. But the ones pulling the sled were the size of small dogs, and merely looking at them flipped more than a few switches in the brain labeled DANGER. The two had showed up earlier that day to provide escort to… wherever the spiders were going, and Frisk had decided to follow out of curiosity.

But these woods were so samey and boring, and they could only avoid looking at spiders for so long before they started looking for something else to do.

Which led to the current distraction.

STAT

INV

DATA

MAP

>RADIO

How long had the radio been on? Frisk was sure they’d turned it back off at some point but apparently they never had. That same string of random symbols was still there, and apparently whatever it was was still in range but it hadn’t played anything in days.

Frisk had kind of thought that the station was caused by Napstablook. It played music when they were around, but aside from that nothing. It was weird.

…tch.

They figured it was high time they finally figured out exactly how the thing worked, so they started investigating the different applications as they walked alongside the spiders. The INV app, whatever that stood for, was just a simple list of items frisk was carrying on their person.

How did it know they had exactly three granola bars left? Or where they got their stick? They knew that it was able to interface with the vaultsuit to figure out their health, was it something similar? A scanner? Whatever it was, it was very… odd, the information it chose to display. Apparently their walking stick was worth twenty dollars and did eight damage.

…Wait, no, that almost made sense, because it was broken in half and Miss Trudy sold them in the gift shop for forty. Frisk nodded to themself, satisfied that that mystery was solved. Now if only they could get it to work in G instead of dollars. It seemed to think the gold coins in their pocket were quarters, but they didn’t think that was accurate.

…Hm, I think I can fix that, let’s see… If I do… this…

The screen flickered, and when the glitch settled the dollar sign in the corner had been replaced with a capital G.

“Is this thing reading my mind?” Frisk asked in wonder.

Heh. Something like that.

They had quite a few Gold pieces now. Between all the monsters they’d done errands for, and the way every monster they battled would drop the stuff after Frisk Spared them, they’d managed to rack up a couple hundred. Their walking stick was now listed as being worth fifteen G. It was still useless knowledge, since Frisk had no intention of selling it, but it was still nice to know.

>DATA

Now this was interesting! This is where the notes function they’d been using was, but there was also a tab labeled Objectives that kept track of everything they’d done and been doing. It mentioned that time they picked up litter for the spiders, when they babysat, helping Jonesy, and…

…falling into the Underground.

------------------------

Snow Way Home

The falling pieces of Vault 66 broke a hole in the wall around the Ruins, opening up the wider Underground to you. After following the Snowdin Trail, you met Papyrus, a friendly skeleton on the lookout for humans, though he doesn’t seem to know what they look like. He told you that the monsters have six out of the seven SOULs needed to leave the Underground, and you’re the last they need.

• You exited the Ruins
• You followed the trail
• You met Papyrus

Your current goals are:

• Reach Snowdin Town
• Confess your humanity OR continue to obscure it

--------------------------

Frisk read the most recent entry carefully, frowning uneasily.

Papyrus was very nice and funny. They liked him a lot. They didn’t want to lie to him about being human… but Frisk didn’t know what would happen to them if they got captured. They had a suspicion that it wouldn’t be good for them, though.

…Well, what did the Pip-boy know, anyway? How did it know anything?

Don’t look at me, I barely had to tell it anything.

Frisk groaned. They put a hand over the screen and turned it off.

Wait, could anything even happen to them? The last time they d-d-d--got knocked out, they just woke up like nothing had even happened…

Frisk pondered on that for a moment, when they suddenly noticed that stark silence around them.

There were no birds in this subterranean forest, but there were a few bugs, and besides that the spiders had been making a rustling sound as they walked, amplified by their numbers. But the sound was gone now, and Frisk realized they’d diverged from their walking buddies. When did that happen?

Well. With the map on their wrist, they weren’t in danger of getting lost, but it was still awfully lonely out here in the middle of nowhere. They briefly considered turning back, and then they kept walking.

…It was probably best for them to not tell Papyrus, honestly. The monsters wanted out, but it w-wasn’t safe on the surface. Everything was gone, there wasn’t anything to return to. Frisk saw it. It was better for everyone to stay underground.

Oh boy.

Yes. Lying was bad, but leading everyone to their death was worse. Frisk nodded to themself. This was correct. Yes.

Ugh. Listen--you can’t hear me. Uh--

The Pip-boy clicked, and Frisk paused midstep. The needle on the geiger counter was twitching. It wasn’t rising above the starting point, but it was clicking and twitching. There were rads out here.

The Pip-boy dinged, and Frisk watched a new task form.

Investigate the source of the radiation.

“Do I have to?” Frisk said out loud.

Yes.

*Ding* Yes.

Frisk stared, bewildered. They turned in place, looking around. “H-hello? Is someone… there?”

No response.

“Flowey?”

But nobody came.

Frisk sighed. “N-no, of course not. How could Flowey do something to my Pip-boy?” They sat against the nearest tree and stared gloomy at the command on the screen.

…Vaultsuits were also radiation suits. They weren’t as good at it as a more specialized uniform, but they could keep a few rads from reaching the skin. Radiation was dangerous still, though, and they just weren’t equipped to deal with it. They were only a kid, after all, and more to the point the suit didn’t cover the face. How likely was it that they could even do anything once they found the source?

…on the other hand, they realized, face grim, could the monsters do anything? Frisk hadn’t seen a single atomic-powered appliance since they fell. Not a working one anyway; everything the monsters used was powered by lithium batteries, or had to be wound up, like something from caveman times. Did monsters even have nuclear energy? Whereas Frisk had tagged along on odd jobs all over town, back home. They’d watched their dad, and Miss Trudy, and Mr. Puckett and all when they were repairing the toaster, or the museum generator, or Hawk, or…

They never actually worked on it themselves, but they’d handled the tools and they’d watched them work.

…Frisk groaned. Dear god, were they actually the most qualified for this? They were eight.

Sucks to suck, I guess.

They felt like the universe was making fun of them somehow.

No, just me.

After a long moment, they sighed, rapped their knuckles against the tree bark, and started walking again.

What, you’re doing this now? You can go get help, or--

It was probably best to get it over and done with, Frisk thought. Hopefully whatever it was wasn’t actually a big deal and they could get back to… back to… uh…

Huh. Well, they’d worry about that afterwards.

Oh boy. Fine. Fine. I guess this was bound to happen, let me just…

The Pip-boy dinged again, but Frisk chose to ignore it for now. Who knows what it would make them do next?

Ugh.

-----------------------------------------

Old Home

Toriel, to her immense surprise, found herself without much to do for the first time in two months.

The flowers had been watered. No one had asked her for advice or to knock down any walls. Hardly any monsters were causing trouble, with only a few young Migosps making a ruckus, and they were easily dealt with after a stern look.

After so many weeks of constant activity, Toriel wasn’t adjusting well to the lack of activity. It was a touch surprising, that after so many years of keeping to herself, a mere few weeks would be able to undo her languid habits--but if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t that shocking. She’d never been good at doing nothing. Once upon a time, she bustled about all day long, baking, reading, debating, shopping; yes, she used to hunt down ways to keep busy. The PTA had been at a loss with how much she wanted to involve herself, to the embarrassment of--

--But anyway. Being a leader again had reawakened old habits, and now she was restless. Toriel had already gone to her home, done some laundry, taken inventory of her pantry, traded out some of the books at her tent with ones from home, watered the flowers again, offered to do other peoples’ laundry--a foolish endeavor, she was practically the only person in the Ruins who wore full outfits--and it was only noon.

So, for absolute lack of anything else to do, she was exercising.

Specifically, she was jogging around Old Home. Goodness, she must have looked odd, an old lady like her in shorts and an old t-shirt running around like she was. Thankfully, she knew areas that were mostly deserted, and stuck to them to avoid unwanted eyes.

It was a bit silly to be so self-conscious. She wasn’t in bad shape after all. Boss Monsters were made of tougher stuff than most, and she had kept active enough before that you’d never know she ate at least one entire pie a week. It was just that all that time in her old robe left her feeling a little exposed without it.

And if, while she was jogging, she kept an eye out for a certain adventurous human child, that was entirely coincidence. She knew they liked exploring (oh no, they liked exploring, they were going to leave), so the roads less traveled seemed as likely a place as any to find them.

Was she being overprotective? No, she didn’t think so. It wasn’t like she’d already lost eight children to that two-faced, spineless, warmongering, cowardly, foolish old goat of a king--

She paused for breath as she emerged from an alley, and leaned against the wall that surrounded the Ruins. Bitter thoughts circled in her head, but she pushed them back down and kept going, following the wall.

It wasn’t wrong of her to want to keep the child safe. It wasn’t. She refused to believe she lived in a world where that was the case. She just wished she didn’t have to worry about such things. Children deserved to be safe, not just feel like they were.

“oh, hello your majesty”

Toriel was pulled from her thoughts and came to a stop again to see a white ghost fade into visibility. “Oh, hello there. You’re the human’s friend, yes? What was your name again? Something Blook, yes?”

They nodded gravely (Oh, gravely! She’d need to remember that.) and briefly made eye contact with her. “napstablook, your majesty”

Toriel grimaced. “Don’t… call me that, please. I don’t carry a title any longer.”

“oh… okay. sorry, mrs. dreemurr--”

“Toriel is fine.” The ghost shrank away, and she winced. That had come out a bit harsher than she’d intended. “Apologies. Mx. Napstablook, are you a member of Blook Family Farms?” she asked, changing the subject. “I always loved your snails. They were the best of any in the kingdom., back in the day.”

“...they sure were,” the ghost agreed sadly.

Toriel’s brow furrowed at the implications packed into those three words, but she didn’t press the issue. It was hardly likely that the Ruins were the only place in the Underground unaffected by the quakes, and the ghost was on the verge of tears already.

“I don’t suppose the human is with you?” she asked in what she hoped was a casual tone.

Napstablook looked to the side. “oh… no… i wanted to be alone today…”

“I see.” Unfortunate, but not unexpected. “Well, thank you anyway.”

She started back on her jog, continuing to follow the wall. Or, she tried to, but the ghost hovered in front of her.

“are you sure… you want to go this way?” Their voice trembled, and Toriel’s motherly instinct instantly told her to be suspicious.

“Quite sure, yes.” She dodged around them without breaking stride, and the ghost struggled to keep in front of her. “Why? Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

The ghost didn’t answer, instead looking to the side again. Now that she was looking for it, it was a very shifty look that was woefully out of place on the ghost’s face. She quickly left them behind, forcing them to disappear and reappear ahead of her.

“er… you… oh…”

She ran past it. They reappeared again.

“i just think…”

Run past. Reappear.

“maybe you could--”

Picking up speed.

“--find a different route--”

Toriel gave them a dirty look, and it shied away, vanishing before she had fully passed it by. And because she wasn’t looking ahead of herself, she almost didn’t stop in time to avoid running face-first into the metal wall.

Ugh. One of the humans’ construction efforts again. She had no idea what they were trying to build up there, but it had caused no end of trouble for them down here. She was certain that if not for these so-called ‘vaults,’ the quakes wouldn’t have been nearly as bad. What were they even trying to store that required such a large vault, anyway?

She stepped around the tunnel. It was only a short section, smaller than most that had fallen; Toriel had to admit, it was impressively built. Where the sections connected had broken, but the tunnel itself showed no sign that it had fallen several hundred feet. Hardly any denting, minor scratches, some scraped-off paint--why would they paint the outside of a tunnel meant to be buried in the earth? Silliness.

She completed her circuit around it, and was hit in the face by a light breeze.

There was no wind in the Ruins.

The ‘vault’ tunnel had broken open a hole in the wall.

Toriel stared outside--outside!--for a long moment, before turning to an empty patch of air. “Did you know about this.” It wasn’t quite a demand.

The ghost faded in, avoiding her eyes and trying not to cry. “...maybe…”

Toriel took a deep breath. And then she took another for good measure. “...Is the child outside of the Ruins, right now?”

“...” Their lips wobbled. “they were following the spiders… please don’t be mad at them…”

She sat heavily on a pile of rubble. “The Ruins are meant to be sealed… and now they are not. And because of that… because of that…”

Toriel made an undignified sound. If pressed she would probably describe it as ‘frustrated.’ She would not call it a bleat, because she was not an animal, but it was definitely ‘frustrated’ and not panicked.

“Napstablook,” she said, with as much force as she could muster. The ghost straightened, even as their tears continued to flow. “You are to find the human immediately and ensure they come back here safely.”

“…yes, your majesty”

And they were gone.

Toriel sat there a moment longer, and then… she sagged. She felt like a puppet with its strings cut, as whatever was holding her up suddenly fled her body.

She couldn’t do this again, not again. She couldn’t lose another child, not one she hadn’t even gotten a chance to know.

Though perhaps that was for the best. It will hurt less.

She growled at herself, standing and brushing bits of rock off herself. No, she wasn’t going to give up just yet. Everything was going to be fine. The human would return and she would make sure they knew exactly why the outside was dangerous, and they wouldn’t leave again, and everything would be just. Fine.

She eyed the tunnel, reading the scratched logo on its side. She had no idea who Vault-Tec was… but in this moment, she was sure that she hated them.

-------------------------------------

Snowdin Forest

Frisk hated the feeling of radiation. It was a nasty feeling of pins and needles all through their body and joints, like an itch that they couldn’t scratch no matter how hard they tried.

As the clicking from their Pip-boy became more steady, they started feeling that awful itch building in their cheeks.

Black rain. Burning.

The trees weren’t doing too well either. It was brighter in this neck of the woods, because the trees were shedding needles faster than they could grow them. The bark was all gray and no brown, and what green was there was just a bit too vibrant to be healthy.

…That was actually pretty worrying. Frisk knew from TV and radio that anything that glowed green was really radioactive… but their counter wasn’t freaking out, so--

There was a sharp gasp from behind them, and Frisk twisted to see a flash of yellow just before it vanished.

They froze, waiting to see if whatever it was would happen again. Seconds passed with only the clicking breaking the silence, and Frisk slowly turned to return to their search--

“GASP! What it wrong with this soil?!”

--when Flowey burst from the ground and immediately flopped over, breathing heavily.

“F-Flowey? What are you doing here?” Frisk asked, surprised. When he didn’t respond immediately they bent down and tried to gently lift his head.

The flower flinched away, pulling himself up. He didn’t look well, his petals pale. “Oh, Frisk! Howdy! I’m just--cough--in the neighborhood, and--urgh.” He grimaced and stuck out his tongue. “God, I wish I could throw up. I feel terrible.”

“...The soil, that makes sense,” Frisk muttered. That was why the trees were doing badly but Frisk still felt fine-ish. It was in the ground.

“I already said the soil, what about it?” Flowey snapped. Then frisk pulled their bag off their shoulder and held it open in front of him, and he blinked. “...Thanks, I guess, but I don’t think…” He looked inside. “...a breakfast bar is going to make me feel better.”

“Get in, dummy,” Frisk said, giving the bag a shake. “If the dirt is bad, you shouldn’t be in it.”

Flowey made a face, clearly not liking the idea, but one of his petals broke off with a tiny snip sound, and he sighed. He carefully wormed his roots out of the ground and crawled inside. After a moment to get settled, he made a strange expression and looked away. “...Thanks, I guess.”

Frisk simply nodded and continued on. Flowey gave the Pip-boy a curious look at its constant noise. They walked in silence for several minutes, the clicks slowly coming faster until they slowed down again, and Frisk adjusted their course until they picked back up.

Eventually, Flowey asked. “So… Why are you out here, anyway? There’s nothing out in these woods. Just trees all the way until the cavern walls.”

“Hm.” Frisk tapped the screen. “Looking for what’s causing this.”

“...And what’s causing that?”

“The radiation.”

Flowey blanked. “Radi--The what?” He started to ask for more clarification, but that was when Frisk squeezed between a pair of trees and stumbled into a clearing.

A massive construct of metal, miraculously intact, lay on the ground in front of them, surrounded by flattened, sickly trees. A piece of the Vault.

Location discovered: Vault 66 (???)