Snowdin stretched out before Frisk like a landscape preserved in frostbitten silence. The familiar crunch of snow beneath their shoes echoed through the emptiness, but no laughter followed. No giggles of hidden children, no curious monster voices calling out. The town was a ghost of itself.
Frisk walked slowly, but without hesitation. Each step left a deeper print than the last, as though the weight of their choices bore down on their very soul. The cold wind didn't make them shiver. Nothing did anymore.
Chara followed silently, though her form seemed dimmer, less solid in the pale light. Her once-lively commentary was gone, replaced by silence and the occasional whisper that barely carried on the breeze.
"They used to love this place," she murmured once, as they passed the faded echo flowers by the bridge. "Do you remember that? The laughter? The snowball fights?"
Frisk didn't answer.
When they reached the spot where Snowdin's puzzles usually stood, the traps had already been deactivated. No one had reset them. No one dared.
A snowman lay broken at the edge of the path. Its eyes had been carved with joy, but its mouth looked like a frozen scream.
It wasn't long before Frisk encountered a monster.
A teenage Snowdrake stepped forward with forced bravado. "I-I won't run away! I'm a proud Snowdin monster!"
Frisk attacked without blinking.
The battle was over in one strike.
Chara turned her back, unable to watch. Her shoulders shook with silent grief.
The deeper into Snowdin they walked, the more abandoned it felt. Monster homes were boarded up, windows dark. Occasionally, a blurry shadow could be seen peering out, only to vanish at the sound of footsteps.
Then, a shape appeared ahead—tall, gangly, and waving enthusiastically.
"Human!" Papyrus's voice echoed across the snow. "Prepare yourself! For I, the GREAT PAPYRUS, shall capture you!"
He marched forward proudly, oblivious to the tension, the death, the change.
Frisk didn't move.
Chara stared at him, her expression stricken. "Papyrus…"
Papyrus posed with a wide grin. "Nyeh heh heh! What's with the silence? Are you… nervous? You should be honoured to be captured by me!"
Frisk drew their weapon.
Papyrus faltered, still smiling but unsure now. "Wait… you're serious? But… I thought we could be friends…"
The strike came fast.
Papyrus's eyes widened. He staggered backward, bones cracking.
"Wh… why?" he asked, his voice smaller now. "I just… wanted to be your friend…"
Another hit. His health bar drained to zero.
Papyrus collapsed.
Dust swirled in the wind.
Chara collapsed too—onto her knees in the snow, tears falling silently.
"He was kind," she whispered. "He didn't deserve that. None of them do."
Frisk looked down at the spot where Papyrus had been, then turned and walked on.
—
Above, the rain still whispered on Mt. Ebott. The girl clutched her book tighter, her hands shaking, but she didn't look away. Her eyes shimmered with something between fear and sorrow.
She raised her hands and made a few slow gestures, hesitant but deliberate.
The man, still seated across the fire, nodded.
"Yes," he said. "He remembered them. He knew. And that made it worse."
He stared into the fire, voice low. "There's no coming back from some roads. But that doesn't stop people from walking them."
The girl curled tighter, as if trying to hide in the folds of her coat.
"And Snowdin," he added quietly, "was only the beginning."