Frisk hung suspended in the darkness. They heard Mettaton's taunting words, felt the burning pain as the beam struck, the sickening sensation of their body being torn apart...

Then, without warning, Frisk was back in their body, standing on the stage. They had the sensation of returning from a bad dream, though they could remember the details of that dream as if they had just woken up from a nap. Frisk didn't understand what had happened, but there was no time to process it. Mettaton was preparing his final attack.

Frisk’s mind raced. They remembered Alphys’s instructions and Mettaton’s vulnerabilities. They knew what they had to do.

"How about we give the audience what they really want?" Frisk shouted, their voice ringing with a new determination. They launched into a dazzling dance, their movements a blur as they dodged Mettaton’s energy blasts with impossible grace. Each near-miss, each daring maneuver, fed the RATINGS on the screen, sending the numbers soaring.

Frisk’s performance was flawless, their energy infectious. The crowd went wild, their cheers filling the chamber. Mettaton, bewildered by this unexpected turn of events, faltered. His attacks became more erratic, less focused. He was losing control of the show.

"Keep dancing, Frisk!" Alphys urged through the helmet, her voice filled with excitement and hope. "You're doing it! You're outshining him!"

Encouraged, Frisk danced harder, faster, pushing their body to its limits. They spun and leaped, their movements a perfect symphony of grace and defiance. The RATINGS continued to climb, the meter glowing red hot.

With a final flourish, Frisk executed a breathtaking pirouette, their arms outstretched as they landed in a dramatic pose. The crowd roared in approval, the RATINGS screen exploding with confetti and flashing lights.

Mettaton, overwhelmed by Frisk’s incredible performance and the unprecedented response from the audience, malfunctioned. His body began to glitch and spark, smoke billowing from his shoulder pads. With a loud bang, his arms detached and fell to the floor.

"It's just a scratch!" Mettaton insisted, though his voice wavered. "B-besides... Who needs arms... with legs like THESE?"

Frisk rolled out of the way of Mettaton's desperate kick, barely avoiding being impaled on his stiletto heel.

With Mettaton's arms out of commission, Frisk continued to dance and dodge, buying Alphys the time she needed to break through the firewalls. The ratings meter continued to climb, higher and higher, as Mettaton's legs overheated. With a loud pop, Mettaton's legs fell off, his torso and head crumpling to the floor. 

The RATINGS screen exploded in a shower of digital confetti, the numbers soaring so high that the meter shattered into a million pixels.

Mettaton, his voice glitching with a mix of shock and delight, exclaimed "Oh my stars, darlings! I didn't see this coming... I'm sort of stuck here at the moment, but the show must go on. And what a show it's been! We've broken the Undernet! The ratings are through the roof! We simply MUST have a call-in portion for this extraordinary finale!" said Mettaton.

Frisk sputtered in surprise. "Mister Mettaton! Are you okay? I see this one light on you blinking red. Should we get Miss Alphys?"

Mettaton tried to toss back his hair with a flick of his head, but since the hair was metal molded into a shape, it stayed where it was. "Frisk darling," he said, "I will be juuuuuust fine. Now, we don't want to keep the audience waiting, hmmmm?"

The screen flickered, transforming into a live feed of incoming calls. Mettaton, ever the showman, preened and posed, futiley attempting to adjust his artificial hairdo.

"Greetings, my loyal viewers! Your host, the magnificent Mettaton, is here to answer your burning questions! Let's see who our first lucky caller is..."

The screen lit up with the name "Napstablook". Mettaton's smile softened for a fraction of a second, a flicker of recognition passing through his eyes.

"Ah, Bloo-- er, Napstablook, is it?," he purred, his voice laced with a surprising warmth. "How delightful to hear from you. What words of wisdom do you have for us tonight?"

A melancholic voice filtered through the speakers. "Mettaton... your performance was... inspiring. You truly are a star."

Mettaton's smile widened, a genuine warmth radiating from him. "Why, thank you. Your kind words mean the world to me."

There was a pause, then Napstablook continued, their voice hesitant. "I... I've always admired your confidence, your ability to shine so brightly..."

Mettaton tilted his head, a curious glint in his eyes. "And what about you? Don't you have a light within you, waiting to be unleashed?"

Over the call-in line, Napstablook chuckled softly, a hint of self-deprecation in their tone. "Oh, Mettaton, you know I'm not one for the spotlight..."

"Nonsense!" Mettaton exclaimed, his voice filled with encouragement. "Everyone has a unique talent, a special spark. Don't be afraid to let yours shine."

The next caller, a bubbly voice named "Shyren," gushed about Frisk's bravery and determination. "They were amazing! Even though they're a human, they showed us all what true kindness could be. And what amazng dance moves they had! Mettaton, this was an incredible show! Your transformation was absolutely breathtaking! And Frisk... they were so brave! They never gave up, even when things looked impossible."

Mettaton, his attention momentarily diverted, nodded curtly. "Yes, yes, the human showed... some degree of resilience," he conceded, though his tone was laced with begrudging respect.

Shyren continued, her voice filled with admiration. "Frisk taught us all a valuable lesson about the power of perseverance and compassion. They truly are an inspiration."

Mettaton, unable to deny Frisk's impact, simply hummed in agreement. He knew, deep down, that the human had earned their place in the spotlight, even if he wasn't quite ready to admit it outright."Alright, enough of that, next call..." he said, stopping suddenly. "Ohhhh my... batteries... critically low. I suppose... we'll have to wrap it up, lovlies." 

Mettaton's energy finally dwindled. His lights flickered and dimmed, his voice growing weaker with each word. "Thank you, darlings," he whispered, his gaze fixed on Frisk. "You have all been a truly magnificent audience." With a final sigh, Mettaton's lights went out, his body going still. The room fell into a hushed silence, the only sound the hum of the emergency lights.

The door to the chamber hissed open, and Alphys rushed in, her face pale and tear-stained. "Frisk! Oh my g-gosh, are you okay?" she cried, her voice filled with panic.

Frisk nodded, offering Alphys a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Alphys," they said softly. "Thanks to you."

Alphys' eyes widened, her voice choked with emotion. "No, Frisk, I... I m-m... messed everything up. I put you in danger. I'm so sorry..."

She broke down, sobs wracking her body. Frisk, moved by her friend's distress, stepped forward and wrapped their arms around her in a comforting hug.

"It's okay, Alphys," they whispered, their voice filled with warmth and forgiveness. "We all make mistakes. What matters is that you tried to help."

Alphys clung to Frisk, her tears soaking their shirt. "Thank you, Frisk," she murmured, her voice muffled against their shoulder. "Thank you for being my friend."

Frisk held the hug for a long time. When they let go, Alphys sniffled, stepped back, and nodded.

Frisk was looking up at her with wide eyes. "Miss Alphys... will Mister Mettaton.. is he...?" Frisk began. "Is he gone?"

Alphys smiled and shook her head. "No, no, he's okay. The, um, alternate form I built at his request is really dreamy look-- uh, I mean... has its appeal, but I haven't worked out all the design flaws yet and..." she trailed off. A kid probably didn't want a technical post-mortem. "Is used up lots of power, so the batter doesn't last long. I just have to w-wait for it to recharge. And fix him up again." she fidgeted wiht her labcoat. "And apologize to him for getting him involved in my dumb plan to be liked," she said. "I.. j-just... thank you Frisk. for everything."

Frisk, touched by Alphys' heartfelt apology, nodded in understanding. They patted her shoulder gently, a silent gesture of reassurance. With a newfound resolve, they turned towards the exit, ready to face the final challenge that awaited them in Asgore's castle.

"Wait, Frisk!" Alphys called out, her voice hesitant. "The signal from the helmet might not reach through the thick walls of New Home."

Frisk paused, then carefully removed the helmet, handing it back to Alphys with a small smile. "Thanks for everything, Alphys," they said sincerely. "I won't forget your help."

Alphys' eyes glistened with unshed tears. "There's an elevator that will take you straight to the castle," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just down the hall."

Frisk nodded, their determination unwavering. As they turned to leave, Alphys' voice cracked with a renewed wave of fear. "Frisk, wait!"

Frisk turned back, their brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong, Alphys?"

Alphys wrung her hands, her anxiety palpable. "I... I'm worried about Asgore. He... he might see you as the only way to break the barrier. He might try to take your soul."

Frisk's expression softened, a hint of sadness touching their eyes. "I've heard stories about Asgore," they said quietly. "Some say he's kind and gentle, others say he's a ruthless warrior. But I know one thing for sure: monsters can love humans."

Alphys' eyes widened in surprise. "How... how can you be so sure?"

Frisk's gaze held a wisdom beyond their years. "Because that's how the first war started," they said, their voice steady. "A human and a monster fell in love, and their families couldn't accept it. But love can also end wars, Alphys. Monsters and humans can love each other. I know this because... Toriel raised me. She loved me and cared for me like I was her own. To the monsters, she might have been a Queen, but... to me, she's my Mom."

Alphys stared at Frisk, her heart filled with a mixture of awe and hope. "But... but Asgore..."

"I know it won't be easy," Frisk admitted, their voice laced with determination. "But I hafta try! I gotta show him that there's another way, a better way. A way where monsters and humans can coexist peacefully."

Alphys hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I believe in you, Frisk," she said, her voice filled with newfound confidence. "You can do this."

Frisk smiled, their eyes shining with a light that seemed to banish the darkness of the underground. "Thank you, Alphys," they said, their voice filled with gratitude. "I'll see you soon."

With a final wave, Frisk turned and walked towards the elevator, their small figure radiating an aura of unwavering resolve. As the doors closed behind them, Alphys watched, her heart filled with a mixture of hope and fear. But she knew, deep down, that Frisk was capable of achieving the impossible. They were the embodiment of hope, the beacon of light that would guide the monsters towards a brighter future.

As Frisk boarded the elevator, they noticed Alphys inputting a series of intricate codes, her fingers dancing across the panel with a newfound confidence. A sly smile played on her lips as she winked at Frisk. "Just a little shortcut," she said, her voice laced with mischief.

The elevator descended rapidly, its sleek interior contrasting sharply with the drab gray corridors that Frisk had traversed earlier. As they disembarked, a sense of unease settled upon them. The walls were bare, the air heavy with an oppressive silence. They wandered through a series of empty rooms, each more unsettling than the last, until they stumbled upon a chillingly familiar sight – a recreation of Toriel's living room, devoid of warmth and life. Well used gardening tools lay in one corner near the fireplace. A dusty bookshelf, but instead of beaing stacked with nature and history and educational books, there were books on gardening. Several dusty photo albums. Close by, a recreation of the kitchen in Toriel's room, trashcan overflowing with crumpled recipies for butterscotch-cinnamon pie. Affixed to the fridge with a magnet that read "Nose-Nuzzling Champs" was a picture just like the one Toriel had at home of Asriel, Chara, Toriel and Asgore.

A lump formed in Frisk's throat as they pressed onward, their footsteps echoing through the desolate halls. They turned a corner and found themselves facing a long, dimly lit corridor. A line of monsters stood along the walls, their expressions solemn and their voices hushed.

As Frisk approached, the first monster, a weary-looking Vulkin, began to speak. "A long time ago, a human fell into the Ruins. Injured by its fall, the human called out for help. Asriel, the king's son, heard the human's call. He brought the human back to the castle."  

The story unfolded, each monster adding a fragment, their voices weaving a tapestry of love, loss, and despair.

"Then... one day..." a timid Whimsalot whispered, its voice barely audible.

"The human became very ill," a trio of Vegetoids intoned in unison, their leafy bodies drooping with sorrow.

"The sick human had only one request," a pair of Loox said, their eyes brimming with tears.

"To see the flowers from their village," Snowdrake continued, his voice cracking with emotion.

"But there was nothing we could do," the Ice Caps lamented, their icy breath misting the air.

"The next day," a lone Final Froggit croaked, its voice thick with grief.

"The human died."

Frisk's heart ached as they listened to the tragic tale. They knew that Mom and Asgore had a family together, and that it was no more, but hearing just exactly how it happened, and hearing it recounted by the monsters themselves, their voices heavy with sorrow, brought a fresh wave of pain. They understood now why Toriel had been so protective, so desperate to keep them safe. The weight of the Underground's collective grief pressed down on them, threatening to crush their spirit.

Frisk's knees buckled, and they sank to the floor, their backpack tumbling from their shoulders. They had come so far, faced so many challenges, but the reality of their situation was finally sinking in. They were just a child, carrying the hopes and dreams of an entire race on their shoulders. The burden felt unbearable. They tried to swallow their sadness, but instead, they started to cry.

"You should be smiling too," a Pyrope chirped, its voice oblivious to Frisk's distress.

"Aren't you excited?" a Vulcan asked, its flames flickering with anticipation. "Aren't you happy?"

A Froggit croaked, its voice filled with hope. "Asgore's going to find the human. He's going to get the final soul he needs to break the barrier, and then we won't be trapped Underground anymore! You're going to be free. We're all going to be free!"

Frisk shook their head, their sobs echoing through the corridor. They couldn't bear the thought of sacrificing themselves, of becoming another tragedy in the Underground's long history of suffering.

They picked their backpack up, and the candy red heart charm that Toriel affixed to the strap clinked against their hand. Through their tears, they saw the heart, and then remembered their cracked cellphone. It had just enough power for one last call. They dialed Toriel's number, their fingers trembling as they waited for her to answer.

"Hello?" Toriel's voice, warm and familiar, filled Frisk's ears.

"Mom," Frisk choked out, their voice thick with emotion. "It's me, Frisk. I'm at New Home."

"Oh, my child!" Toriel exclaimed, relief washing over her voice. "I'm so glad to hear from you. Are you alright?"

"I'm okay," Frisk assured her, though their voice wavered. "I'm about to see Asgore."

A moment of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken fears.

"Frisk," Toriel began, her voice hesitant. "Are you... are you scared?"

Frisk took a deep breath, their resolve solidifying. "Yes, Mom," they admitted. "I am. I am really, really scared! B-but I... HAVE to do this."

"Oh, my child! Worry not, I--" Toriel's voice trailed off, her words cut short as the phone's battery finally died.

Frisk stared at the lifeless device, a single tear rolling down their cheek. They missed Toriel desperately, longed for her comforting embrace. But they knew they couldn't turn back now. They had to face Asgore, to find a way to break the cycle of violence and bring peace to both humans and monsters. With a deep breath, Frisk wiped away their tears and stood up, their shoulders squared and their eyes filled with a newfound determination. They stepped onto the elevator, the doors closing behind them with a soft hiss. As the elevator ascended, Frisk's heart pounded in their chest, a symphony of fear and hope and dreams echoing through their being.

Eventually, the elevator came to a stop. As they stepped out into a room filled with golden light, they took a deep breath. The gold light reminded them of the golden flowers Mom said broke their fall so many years ago. Thinking of the love of Toriel and the hope Frisk had for the future of monsters and humans filled them with determination.