Chapter Text
Mo was positively sweltering, his fur so utterly drenched with sweat that it felt as if he’d just taken a shower—or, heck, as if he was presently in the process of showering, really. He still wasn’t quite sure what to make of this whole business venture that he’d gotten into, but money was money, so what little protests his weaker side had voiced were quickly tuned out. If nothing else, being back in the Steamworks now, with the human vanquished, actually gave Mo the opportunity to properly reminisce over his now gloriously derelict former place of employment.
Not that he’d ever actually been all that good at chemistry. He’d liked the fancy words, sure, and throwing things together and seeing what stuck, or exploded, or imploded, had been a rare joy, but when it came to formulas and precise weights and actually being accurate with the science-y language, Mo had always felt lost. Even in spite of his unstoppably obvious incompetence that had only ever been masked by his immovable musk of self-assuredness, he’d somehow avoided getting fired or sued or worse for a few years. However, his standing within the Steamworks (or lack thereof) had meant nothing when the whole place had suddenly shut down, with the whole complex having been deemed as an archaic relic of a bygone era, now that Hotland proper had become the new hot spot (literally) for science of all kinds.
Some of his colleagues had gotten re-hired at the CORE before they had even finished gathering their things from here, and those colleagues had put in good words for their own valued colleagues, and so on and so forth, until the CORE’s lineup of scientists had basically become a sort of Steamworks 2.0. As far as Mo could tell, once the dust had settled, he’d been the only schmuck left with nothing but paltry severance checks, the only one who seemingly was not allowed to move on from the Steamworks like nothing had happened. At the time, he’d seen it as a blessing in disguise. A bit of liquidity to plant the first seeds for self-sufficiency, and before long Mo would have managed to be properly doused with cash. How ironic, he thought, given how the only thing liquid about him at that moment was the ever-present thick layer of sweat.
Maybe the lightning-quick pace of that turnover was why nobody had ever bothered to revoke his access and credentials to the place. What use was it to regulate entrance to such a relic with any sort of rigor? Not like anyone was planning to come back here. Except Mo, that was, plus one other former colleague, if what he had heard from the somewhat literal grapevine was accurate.
Once he’d gotten out of the sweltering, coolant-flooded lower floors of the Steamworks, the temperature thankfully cooled down to somewhat reasonable levels, though his footing was no less precarious, consisting largely of scattershot catwalks that had never quite passed safety inspections during the best of days. As things were now, Mo could only think about all the pennies that had ever been pinched by the ones in charge, never to be spent on even the simplest yet most necessary repairs.
And then, Mo was firmly before the entrance to the chemistry lab, his fur standing up straight, alight with some mixture of nostalgia and anticipation. Once upon a time, he’d passed through here on the daily, not thinking much of it except the rote repetition of daily working life, and now he’d come back one last time to make the deal of a lifetime.
If it all worked out, that was.
With a well-practiced flip of his wrist, Mo let himself in using his Steamworks ID, and after a slightly unnerving delay, the doors in front of him creaked open with an unhallowed sound as if they were on their deathbed. The reception area was barely recognizable amidst all the dust and decay, not to mention the total breakdown of the hospitality bots. As such, it took nothing but another swipe of his card to advance further into these once-somewhat-pristine halls, leaving him with little obstruction or time to think as he advanced forwards into hallway C, the location where the future Royal Scientist might have been sitting at that moment.
If Mo could play his cards right, that was.
As he passed by his old office, it took considerable restraint to not burst right into it and see if anything of his old life was left. It had been so easy to let it go once, and he knew full well that there would be nothing left there except mold and other sorts of plant growth, yet with the past now behind him, it pulled on him like an invisible leash. Would he be happier now had he made it to the CORE way back when?
He straightened out his coat and cleansed himself of those thoughts as his feet moved him ever forwards, ever towards his destination. Right behind an unassuming shelf, revealed only by the assuming cracks in the wall right behind it, or so he had been told. And yeah, if he hadn’t known to look for them, the cracks would have blended right into the similarly-dilapidated environment around the shelf, yet with that knowledge, they stuck out clear as the Barrier.
One last breath, one last chance to turn around. To ignore this mysterious business-partner-slash-benefactor and go on with his life. It wasn’t like he was itching for money, even, not anymore. The human had made sure of that, even if every single G had wound up coated in dust. Nothing that couldn’t be cleaned off, still.
But this wasn’t some base need for survival, like an animal scrounging for scraps in the gutter. This was the thirst for business, the desire to think bigger, to exceed the confines of his previous existence and make something greater out of himself, for once in his darn life. The bureaucracy of those around him had once pigeonholed him into the Steamworks, and after that he had lacked the resources to truly make it as a salesman, but this would be it.
Mo pushed aside the bookcase and glanced into the marginally-more-orderly room in front of him. A familiar face glanced back, stuck in an inbetween of motion. “Long time no see, Prof,” Mo greeted with an earnest smile.
After the lightless void of unconsciousness, Martlet finally came back to, lying on her back on a way-too-hard surface, for the second time in two days. From above glared an incessant flickering of decaying lights, dim yet burning her eyes, but she was not in the children’s room anymore, as evident by the lack of sand all over. As Martlet lowered her gaze, another similarity to yesterday’s loss of consciousness became evident: a syringe getting pulled out of her body, having now done its job and ready to be discarded. This time, Martlet tried her best to only flinch a little bit. It felt as if her body betrayed her even worse than the last time.
It got the others to notice her return to the world of the living, if nothing else. Undyne and Alphys each stared at her with a concerned expression. Yet there was somebody else here, too. Somebodies else; tucked away in the corner of the room, half-buried in a pile of sand of their own creation. Martlet’s basest instincts threw caution to the wind, and she practically flew out of the uncomfortable bed she’d been lying in without another thought. In light of the one connection to her old life that was left, whatever responsibilities she had as Captain were less than secondary.
The only roadblock to that goal was the fact that as soon as her talon so much as touched the ground, it splattered into nothingness, leaving her face down on the cold tiled floor. It took a moment of shock for recollection to settle in, and it was only then that Martlet truly remembered the melting that she had endured during the confrontation. Immediately, her wings went to survey the area around her torso, running along the outline of her body in order to ascertain her own solidity. There was an uncanny sense of viscous liquidity to it all, as if she was a slime monster held together by the thinnest layer of surface tension, yet the sizable holes had been mended somehow. Her legs, however, were looking worse for wear once again, losing hold but not quite melting yet.
The somehow comforting feeling of a claw on her shoulder snapped Martlet fully back to the outside world. “C-Captain,” Dr. Alphys mumbled as Martlet turned around to face her, at eye level thanks to Martlet’s precariously unstable footing. “Let’s get you back on the bed, alright? You need more rest.”
Martlet crawled her way back to the bed using only her wings, with only a bit of assistance by Undyne to get her fully onto it. It was odd, really. By some definition, Martlet may have been the strongest monster in the Underground, yet this past day had made her feel nothing but weak and brittle.
* (You've not been giving it your all.)
And she hadn’t wanted to! In fact, save for another human attacking monsterkind, it was hard to imagine a situation where all this power would ever find a use. So now she was stuck with a devil in her chest, a tendency to melt, and had basically nothing to show for it.
* (People respect you.)
Martlet scoffed, and both of the others raised an eyebrow before Alphys went back to… whatever science stuff she was doing. Monsters respected the image of this pinnacle of justice, sure, but how many of them had managed to see beyond that, to see Martlet?
Well, the three-or-five other monsters in this room had done that, at least. It was hard to imagine anybody feeling reverence for Martlet’s current state, still a wobbly mess as she was waiting on… whatever it was that she was lying down for. She should probably ask. The whole situation was still extremely clouded to her, other than the fact that this serum made her not fall apart, which was probably good.
“So what’s the exact… y’know. Procedure, for these injections?” Martlet finally stammered out.
Alphys took a deep breath while Undyne stood idly by the side, a finger pulling on the strap of her eyepatch, seemingly not knowing how to contribute to this situation. When the still-Royal Scientist spoke, it was with a sense of certainty and authority that Martlet had not really heard from her, other than the few times she’d messed up in her position guarding the Lab.
“Your body is, to put it simply, constantly turning to dust and regenerating itself. The human SOUL contributes to you not falling apart immediately, but you do still need a regular influx of energy. That’s where these injections come in. You’ll need one, roughly… Well, once a week, probably, under normal circumstances. More often if you… well… get hurt.”
Martlet instinctively balled the ends of her wings together while continuing to stare at the ceiling. That was… It was manageable. She could live with this. Well, she had to live with this. Not like she had a say.
For a bit more, Martlet kept lying in silence as she let the Determination run through her body. If she truly concentrated, she could feel its influence spreading through her, giving it a sense of integrity once more. Little by little she was starting to feel a lot less goopy, if nothing else.
Yet Martlet kept lying there, as her thoughts were starting to keep her body hostage. Her eyes settled on Desert Chime, still sat in the corner, still so small a presence that they might have been mistaken for tasteless furniture. Kanako and the two other monsters within them deserved more than to be stuck in a dour place like this, with nobody to talk to, to interact with, to be alive with.
With a start, Martlet sat up straight to the creaky complaints of her bed and shot her gaze straight through the middle of the other two monsters, then alternated between them. “I’m going to adopt Desert Chime,” she said with the most conviction she’d had for anything since at least the rooftop encounter.
* (...)
Alphys’s glance faltered to the corner, her eyes truly perceiving the Amalgamate for what might have been the first time ever, but Undyne’s eye remained resolutely on Martlet as she began to shout. “Are you serious?! You can’t just—” She threw an arm up in frustration. “You can’t just choose to adopt a— an Amalgamate like that! Not while the hopes of the entire Underground are riding on you! And it’s not even a normal kid! It’s like the weight of raising three of those! You expect everyone else to just… Wait around during that?”
“But—” Martlet immediately began to retort, before some sense of duty and, perhaps, obedience made her close her beak. What was she going to say? That she knew Kanako; that the other family members of the monsters in Desert Chime had been murdered? Even so, what made Martlet in particular so special? The kids must’ve had other friends, distant family members, anyone who may have been closer than Martlet really had been. Heck, she hadn’t even seen Kanako much at all ever since Chujin’s funeral!
* (You're not worried about the children's loneliness.)
Martlet willed the voice in her head shut. It was one thing to hear them vocalize the worst violence imaginable like an intrusive thought; it was another to hear them echo her own deeper emotions, the ones which she had not dared admit to herself because the prospect was too petrifying.
* (You're the one who's lonely. You're the one who only has this one person to turn to.)
On some level, she’d known this ever since she’d first laid eyes on Desert Chime. How couldn’t she grasp the one remainder of her old life with all her might? Yet imagining all of this in reality made clear the impossibility of such a task. Martlet barely knew how to be Captain; she had no clue how to be a parent, much less a parent to an incomprehensible muddle of three kids at once, each with their own needs that she’d have to balance. All that Martlet wanted was the company of somebody familiar, yet it became clearer than ever that such a luxury was too much to ask for. Her new company was the other monsters in the room with her, nothing more, nothing less, she realized as a solitary tear crept down her eye.
* (It's what you...)
“I understand,” she finally murmured, her eyes locked to the coarse sand underneath the remnant of her past. “It was a silly idea.” Within the torrent of thoughts, Martlet only barely realized Clover’s sudden silence.
Undyne was clearly taken aback by this and twirled her ponytail around her fingers. “Well, it’s not like I can’t understand the idea. These Amalgamates need to get out of this musty basement,” she stated while her eye wandered towards Alphys with an expression that suddenly looked a lot less empathetic. “But we can’t expect someone like you to pick up the slack. There’ll be other folks to take care of them, certainly.”
“Y-yeah,” Alphys said, the word bursting out of her mouth so quickly that she’d almost cut right through Undyne’s previous sentence. “Even if their families have… passed away, I should be able to locate other groups of relatives and acquaintances. A-and then we could assign a group of folks to each Amalgamate, working together to raise them… It’s the u-unassailable power of teamwork!”
Martlet let out an arid laugh. “Teamwork, yeah.”
“Oh! P-plus…” A burst of excitement rushed over Alphys as her feet left the ground by the tiniest bit. “I’m sure you could visit the Amalgamate, too! Give hope to the people doing the hard work while getting to help out yourself!”
Both Martlet and Alphys looked to Undyne for approval before remembering the new status quo, with Alphys turning to Martlet while Martlet was left to ponder. It would at least be better than the nothing that she had already lowered her expectation towards. So, she nodded her head as the suggestion of a smile appeared on her face.
“Very well, then! I shall g-get started on that then, u-unless… Well, this might be a job for the next Royal Scientist?” This time Alphys’s eyes lingered on Undyne, and Martlet could understand. If there was anyone who would dissent here, to stomp up to King Asgore and deny Alphys that task, it could only be Undyne.
To Alphys’s quite obvious surprise, Undyne affirmed that idea. “It only makes sense that you work on this. You clearly know what each of these monsters needs.” Then, she struck a harsher tone as her eyebrows furrowed. “However, do not delay these actions. It is your duty that the monsters of the Underground know the truth.”
Alphys nodded so hard that Martlet feared her head may come off, but it stayed intact as the Royal Scientist finally led the two of them out of the room and up towards the elevator; one step closer to the surface.
It was only when Martlet waved goodbye to Desert Chime and the Amalgamate meekly rotated its arm back that she realized that nobody had asked for their opinions during that entire time. They deserved better than Martlet. They deserved better than Alphys, too, or Undyne. They deserved their families, ideally. But maybe whatever sort of surrogate program Alphys would think up would be a step in the right direction.
And Martlet would visit as often as she could. Try and make it not just about herself, but about Desert Chime, too. About Kanako, and the others. To honor their families.
* (...Why?)
A few more days had passed, and things had changed. For starters, she had her own office now. A previously-unused room in the castle, last used by some sort of advisor or confidant or similar, maybe a vizier-like position, many, many decades ago. When she’d first laid eyes on it, it had been gray, featureless, dusty, and only had the barest of necessities.
Now, it was gray, featureless, and only had the barest of necessities. And a nameplate, stating her title plainly for all to see. “Captain of the Royal Guard.” Even with that impressive label, it was hard to feel truly in charge: in spite of Martlet’s role change, Undyne had still been taking control at an unreasonable pace, setting up defenses against human attacks, entirely new guard posts, and whatever else one might imagine. Martlet still wanted to contribute, on some level, yet the time never felt right. And so, she had been sat on this chair all day, twirling her feathers, waiting for Undyne to come in and report to her on what other new and exciting change she had implemented for the Underground. Usually, that concerned an ever more rampant militarization of the Guard, increased recruiting efforts, and, very rarely, bits of smalltalk. Martlet, ultimately, acquiesced. Undyne was the one who’d been Captain for years now, after all.
When Undyne burst through the door on that day, she didn’t bother knocking, and even the handle was seen as more of a suggestion, it seemed. “So! Puzzles!” she almost-shouted with an expression that was somewhere between a grin and a grimace. “Why do we even need them?”
Undyne’s whole demeanor made it impossible to tell just how rhetorical this question was. Going by the assumption that Undyne was not somebody to use much of rhetorical anything, Martlet dutifully responded, “Well, they’re meant to halt the intrusion of any humans that fall down here,” a phrase which she paraphrased right from the protocol with some liberty of both the creative and scatterbrained type.
“Yeah! And that’s the kicker, isn’t it? Because when it came to stopping this human…” Undyne paused for climactic effect to point at Martlet’s chest. “…Puzzles accomplished absolutely nothing! What’s even the point if sheer strength is enough to break through ‘em? We’d only be keeping out the wimps and the nerds, and the latter group would solve the puzzles anyways!” The table bounced up an inch as Undyne slammed her fist right on it.
* (Got to give it to her. She's right on this one.)
A retort died in Martlet’s beak before it could have made a difference. She hadn’t seen the situation firsthand, but she’d heard the reports of how much the Steamworks had gotten trashed. The human had gotten through them without much issue. Of course they had. Why had Martlet even bothered putting all this effort into the molten rock puzzles?! “I guess,” was how her brain decided to clump all the mishmashed thoughts in her head together into a coherent sentence. Droll acceptance of the cruel reality that Martlet had been forced to accept, over and over again.
Undyne, for some reason, did not seem pleased. Her face had turned into a full-on grimace, with nary a trace of a grin, and her pupil had shrunk to half its normal size as it honed in on the SOUL in Martlet’s body. “You guess?!” Undyne leaned her body further towards her, both hands now leaning on the table, then glanced down. Her face then morphed into an unreadable expression as she propped herself up on the table, then rose to her full height once more, now standing taller than Martlet for the first time. “That’s it. You guess?!”
* (Wa-)
In an instant, Martlet went from standing on the hard floor to being lifted up in the air, and it felt as if she was struggling to breathe even with her body still untouched. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, so unusual was the situation before her. Now standing fully above Martlet was Undyne, and in her fingers she held the human SOUL, grasping it tightly and with her claws perilously close to the membrane. And Martlet was hanging on by a thread, connected to the SOUL only by a bright yellow string of whatever it was she was made of that came right out of her chest.
[Image Description: A drawing of Undyne and Martlet in a style reminiscent of Undertale’s battle sprites, using a black backdrop and only single or few colors on the characters. Undyne is seen from the back and holding out her right arm, grasping the yellow SOUL within it. Martlet is hanging from the SOUL, connected by a yellow string, and grasping at Undyne’s arm while a distraught expression is on her face. There are drops of sweat on her face that might imply she is melting. In the background, there is a window, behind which rests a flower that is mostly hidden from sight. Art by me.]
“Whug?” Martlet choked out.
“It's always the same with you! You guess, you suppose, you agree, a lot of words, sure, but no meaning! What’s even the point of you being up here? Where’s the hero from a few days ago?” Martlet could feel Undyne’s grasp on the SOUL tightening by the moment, feeling as if her very lifeline was being crushed.
“I— I’m agreeing with you! What’s the— the big problem?” Trembling wings moved towards the arm holding her captive, grabbing at it, clawing at it, trying to get free, yet to no avail. All the while, Martlet’s feet struggled around aimlessly.
An uncomfortably liquid laugh burst through from Undyne’s lips. “This isn’t about agreement! What, you think you’re just here to look pretty?”
“Yes!” Martlet cried out desperately. “I’m meant to be an icon. Isn’t that what you said?”
“That’s not—” By this point, Undyne was starting to look properly miserable, too, not that it was much of a refuge for Martlet. “Urgh, why can’t you just be normal?”
Martlet was about to throw out some sort of angry, emotional apology when everything went dark once more. For this brief moment between moments, the pain around her neck was gone, Undyne was gone, all the bad things were gone. Then Clover apparated before her, their usual silhouette now looking a whole lot scruffier and worse for wear than before.
* (What do you think you're doing here?)
Martlet flinched back and held up a wing in defense. “You might not agree with this, or understand this, but I’m trying to do my job! And clearly I just need to get better at this. Incorporate bits of my own opinion, active listening, throw in some of my own ideas, all that jazz! I-It’ll be fine, I just gotta de-escalate!”
* (All you've got to do is act normal.)
“I— Well, I mean, I wouldn’t have put it this way, but—”
* (Why are you so afraid to share your thoughts?)
Martlet took an involuntary step towards Clover, her talons now fully extended. “I am sharing my thoughts! It’s just that I’m realizing, my prior thoughts are flawed, and—”
* (I know there's something wrong with me. When's your turn?)
“You—” Everything around the human turned the same tint of yellow as them, blinding her to the fake reality before her. The only reason any of this was happening in the first place was because this human that had something wrong with them was sharing her consciousness! Martlet was still her old normal self underneath all this!
* (Look at that.)
Martlet’s whole body was heaving with each breath, still unable to perceive the human. Their voice was emanating all throughout this void.
* (Why is it so easy for you to talk back to me?)
Because you’re a demon, were the first words that came to Martlet’s mind, yet even she could admit that this was a weak defense. As such, she settled on, “It’s because you haven’t changed my mind.” In all those other cases, Martlet had merely come to the realization that her line of thinking was wrong.
The yellow all throughout her appeared to laugh, yet it sounded utterly joyless.
* (We both know that the reason you made those puzzles wasn't just to keep humans out.)
“But the protocol—” Martlet cried out, before promptly being shut up by a sob out of her own beak.
The block of wood lying in Martlet’s impromptu workshop is, to put it bluntly, a cold mess. Nails are poking out in every conceivable direction (and some new, fourth-dimensional ones), yet Martlet once again steadies her hammer and aims squarely for her victim: the last solitary, unhammered nail. “Here, why don’t you let me help you with this,” Chujin’s voice sounds from behind her. Martlet hasn’t expected him to arrive so soon, yet she nonetheless accepts his guidance. His hands lead the motion of Martlet’s wings, yet the impetus is her own.
It’s a comparably mild day in Snowdin, with bits of grass and the first snowdrops poking out of the blanket of otherwise unassailable white. Inside, sheltered from even that cold, Chujin is still deeply immersed with whatever geothermal routing he’s got going on. Martlet, meanwhile, is hard at work putting the last bits of wood finish on the central heater. Her hammer hits one of the nails straight-on, and she cannot help but notice how her motions, the way in which she pulls back and then swings before inspecting the nail, is just like how Chujin does it.
The second molten rock puzzle is almost ready, and it is so, so cold. The good news is that Martlet only needs to attach one more platform, the bad news is that she hasn’t done any testing yet, and the molten rocks are getting less molten by the second. Her thoughts barely concern the actual motions as she rapidly nails the platform to the wall in four fell swoops. It is only when the last nail is secure that she realizes how unlike Chujin’s technique her swings have become. A bit more confident, with less anticipation, yet slightly slower acceleration. A solitary tear falls from Martlet’s cheek and freezes into a crystal before it even touches the ground.
Martlet blinked back to reality, to the empty space beneath her feet, to the claws around the human SOUL, and she felt stupid. Foolish. Certainly not normal by any means.
“You want to know my thoughts?” Martlet scoffed, now eerily aware of how intimidating she must have appeared at that moment. With one swift motion, she put a wing around Undyne’s arm and yanked back the SOUL with the other. When she fell, then landed, she had little trouble staying steady, her gaze never once wavering. Now back on solid ground, she looked Undyne in the eye with what felt like unearned confidence. “My thoughts are that what’s going on with the Royal Guard here… What’s going on with the Underground… It’s a sham.”
Undyne gritted her teeth, yet kept her eye steady. “Well, at least you’re voicing an opinion now.”
Due to the lack of expected aggression, Martlet found her eyes flitting with a tinge of nervousness. Was this bad? Had she gotten Undyne so mad that she’d stopped looking mad for once?
“Well?” Undyne poked without breaking eye contact. “Hit me.”
Martlet silently gulped but went on. “I get that humans need to be captured. Brought before Asgore. Killed, for the greater good, even.”
* (No.)
Without acknowledging the voice in her head, Martlet continued. “And it wasn’t easy for me to internalize that. How can an entire group of people be collectively judged like that?” Martlet shook her head. “But the human didn’t afford us any such grace. The one before didn’t, either. Neither did the humans that sealed us down here.”
“Sounds like we’re plainly in agreement, then,” Undyne mused with her arms crossed.
“Well, sort of. But here’s the thing.” Martlet massaged her forehead with her wing. “On principle, I understand. Take a random human and I get the necessity of taking their SOUL. But what if they’re... y’know. Nice. Like the first fallen human had been. What if they’d be cowering before me while I try to raise my talons to take their life?” Her brow furrowed. “But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? It’s most important to you that I could easily overpower them.”
Undyne was clearly trying to keep her breathing steady. “No, no, I think I get it. Kinda. You don’t wanna get to know them. That’s fine. I can take care of them and call you in if things get dicey. But you have to understand... When news of this new human first spread, most folks thought we’d be just one more away after that. And then dozens died, and King Asgore is still stuck at just five SOULs. Nobody wants that to happen again.”
“So what now?!” Martlet slightly raised her voice and took a step forward, and Undyne actually flinched for just a moment. “We keep stoking those fears with talks of human attacks, we prepare for nothing short of an all-out war, and let everyone live in constant anxiety and fear?”
Undyne grimaced back at Martlet. “What? No! Showing strength is exactly how we get over those fears!”
“You don’t think people are going to be worrying about human attacks every living moment they see a fully-armored guard running around in front of their house?”
“Oh, come on, we’ve had guards patrolling every single settlement for decades now. This isn’t new!” Undyne was slightly averting her eye now. Was she beginning to anticipate where Martlet was going?
“Yeah, but those guards were usually setting up puzzles or the like! Sure, we’ve seen that they’re no good as a human deterrent, and most monsters would say that they’re annoying... But I think they give monsters a rhythm to their daily life! Minor inconveniences to keep them distracted from the mounting pressure! This isn’t just about breaking the barrier in however many years whenever the next human falls, it’s about making sure monsterkind doesn’t break down under the pressure! Not doing this all-out attack thing.”
Undyne sat cross-legged on the table and sighed. “Do you know why they call it the Royal Guard, and not the Royal Attack? I’ve tried to get the name changed a few times during my time, y’know. But ultimately, it’s the Royal Guard because we protect monsterkind. I’d gladly risk my life fighting a human if I could save a single monster.” Her eyes turned away. “Even if I die in the process.”
Martlet could feel the sweet relief of a bit of common ground. “Exactly! And the way to do that is—”
Without warning, Undyne shouted so loudly that Martlet recoiled and almost stumbled over her chair. “So why aren’t you doing the same?”
“Huh?” Martlet squawked.
“You’ve got your monster SOUL. You’ve got a human SOUL. If all of this vigilance is so bad, well, you’ve got an option to end it. Cross the barrier, get two SOULs, and come back. Finish what Prince Asriel couldn’t.”
* (...No.)
“W-what?” Martlet was completely and utterly lost now. Just where was this angle coming from?! Not even King Asgore had ever so much as— But Undyne wasn’t wrong— But how could Martlet—
* (No.)
Undyne crossed her arms and let her gaze fall to the floor. “I get that you needed time to process all of this. But do you understand the opportunity that you’re squandering here, the ticking clock that only you can finally smash to pieces? The King has always been too much of a softie to fully commit, but you’ve already got the SOUL inside of you. You’ve just gotta cross the Barrier.”
Undyne had a point; Martlet could feel that with every fiber of her existence. There was an urge to straight-up agree with her and venture towards the Barrier right that moment, and she could tell that it was not just motivated by a sense of duty or whatever. The improvements to the lives of monsterkind would be immeasurable, obviously, and it felt difficult to imagine her getting hurt as much of an issue. For starters, she could fly! And humans couldn’t fly, obviously.
* (There's— No; no humoring this. No.)
All she had to do was get out there and grab the SOULs of the first few humans she’d see. An objectively uncomplicated task, given this form. But as Martlet extended her point of view beyond the singular moment, her vague feelings of discomfort took on a stable form:
* (You'd do what I'd done.)
“If I did that, how would I be different from the human?” Martlet crystallized her thoughts. Undyne began to open her mouth, but Martlet interjected. “Not on the same level, certainly. I’d only need to take two SOULs. But what comfort would that be to their families? To their friends? The human before this one hadn’t even harmed anybody before their disappearance, yet their attack still had a huge impact on Snowdin!”
With her fist balled, Undyne scooted forward on the table to get closer to Martlet’s eyes. “Well, they deserve it! Being trapped down here for an eternity, sending a mass murderer… Anything you could possibly do will bring less pain than what we’d had to endure!”
Martlet shook her head. “I’m sorry. I am ready to die in the process of saving monsterkind. I was prepared for that when facing the human. But unlike you, I think I… I am not ready to kill for that purpose.” Her eyes lowered towards her chest. “At least not as a general sentiment.”
Undyne let out a bellowing laugh, and Martlet flinched from the booming noise, even louder than when she had screamed. “That’s just the hand I’m dealt, huh? Surrounded by the two most powerful monsters, yet you’re both too big of a wimp to do what needs to be done.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be what you need me to be,” Martlet said in a low voice, then sighed. “But this is who I am. With all the ways in which I’ve changed, that bit seems to be set in stone.”
The sound of gnashing spread through the room as Undyne grit her teeth. “And the worst part is that you both keep being so right about this! I know how I’d react if I’d found out that my parents had gotten murdered. Or Gerson. Or Asgore. I’ve been lucky enough that nobody I knew has been taken from me, and even so, look at how it’s gotten to me!” Her eye was wide open now, and it was only then that Martlet could really acknowledge the deep bags under her eye, and the red veins that ran through it.
Undyne finally slipped off the table entirely, but neglected to stand up, and thus wound up sitting on the floor, legs spread out in an uneven sprawl. “So, yeah, you win. Not that it was much of a question, really. You outrank me, after all.”
Martlet crouched down and held out a wing. “Listen, I—”
Undyne batted away the offer. “Let me tell you about what Asgore once said, back when I’d first suggested that idea to him. It was my first day as Captain, I was still green around the fins, and I saw this as my big chance to finally ask the question that’d been stirring in my mind for so long. It just all felt so obvious to me, y’know? And he talked about way back when, when he’d seen his childrens’ corpses, he felt as if a raging fire had broken out inside him, like he’d personally burn every human to embers if he could. The Queen was all shocked, obviously, but Asgore said that the same night, he had already been starting to regret his words. Not just because of his whole wife situation, but because during that sleepless night, he’d been forced to confront the other perspective. The family members who’d be forced to watch one of their own be burned to embers, and who’d react in kind.
“And that story has never really left my thoughts, I guess. I knew about the all but guaranteed risk of retaliation. But I was… am still so mad that it was hard to care about that. Heck, I almost welcomed it, because it’d give me a chance to strike back even harder. And I thought, if I could convince you of that righteous anger, too, we could, I dunno… Finally end this sorry existence and be free. Stand above the rain of blood and take what is ours. But of course that couldn’t be how it ends.
“But a human that falls down here…” Undyne helped herself to her feet and stared Martlet right in the eyes, the yellow of her sclera shining more vibrantly than Martlet had ever seen before. “They’re already considered dead to humankind. They have no reasonable way of escaping. There is no retaliation to fear. No family that could be hurt any further.”
* (No no no no no no no no)
Martlet’s SOUL felt as if it was being yanked out of her chest by the other SOUL in her body. This was the status quo, this was what she had accepted for herself, yet having it spelled out like this made it somehow feel both better and worse.
* (They'd still be a person. They're still real.)
They would be real, yes. It would be a loss of life, sure. Yet as Martlet was now, she felt herself unable to draw her own red line back underneath this conundrum. It wouldn’t be fair for monsterkind to live down here forever. And if the human would be anything like the last two…
* (...)
Martlet balled her wing and held it out towards Undyne. If this trend were to continue, it would be easy to bring justice to monsterkind.
A new human had fallen down into the Ruins, and Captain Martlet already stood before them. The human clutched their striped shirt in fear, big eyes looking up at the monster, before — SWISH — the monster's huge talons striked right at their chest. Finally, their red SOUL was there, right in the open air, and the monster would stare dumbfounded at what she had done. Just enough time for Flowey to burrow out, grab the SOUL, and duck back underneath the earth.
For added effect, Flowey spiked the wooden cutout representing the human a few more times. Not a drop of blood landed on the blanket of snow, of course, but it nonetheless was a moment of catharsis.
Yes, yes, that is how it would go, Flowey was at least 99% certain of that. Losing the power to SAVE had been an… adjustment, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t accumulated centuries of knowledge on each of the inhabitants of the Underground. And if Flowey knew exactly how things looked in the past, he could predict the future. So all he needed was perfect knowledge of the present, which should only be days away, if he had predicted the course of that rapacious salesman correctly, as well as that of the yet-to-be future Royal Scientist. Under the guise of increased human surveillance, Flowey would have eyes everywhere. And it wouldn’t even be a guise, Flowey thought to himself with a chuckle. After all, he would be using it to surveil for the appearance of new blood. Plus, everyone else in the Underground, of course. And he would be ready. He would get that human’s SOUL first thing, absorb it for himself, and finally regain his powers. And then he could be rid of that birdbrain and the wannabe Western kid for good, too.