UT: Unbound Souls

Vance took a deep breath as he stepped into the next room. The air was colder here, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed against the stone walls. Before him stretched a fragile, crumbling floor that seemed ready to collapse at the slightest touch. The sight instantly triggered his memory of this room from the game. He knew the floor would give way unless he followed the specific path hidden beneath, leading him to a safe route.

Taking a moment to glance around, Vance spotted the piles of leaves scattered below the crumbling floor. They were his safety net—something he was immensely grateful for. Without them, his small body would've likely suffered significant injuries with each fall. "Thank you, game logic," he muttered under his breath with a smirk, stepping forward with confidence.

Carefully following the correct sequence from his memory, he stepped along the fragile floor, evading the crumbling tiles with ease. One wrong move, and he knew the ground would collapse beneath him. Each step brought a faint thrill, a reminder of just how much he owed his survival to his prior knowledge of the game. Once he reached the other side without incident, Vance took a brief moment to stretch and look back at the treacherous floor. "If the leaves weren't there... I'd be done for," he mused aloud.

The next room, however, was refreshingly simple. It was eerily similar to the room he'd encountered before with the sentient rock—this time featuring three stones and a pressure plate puzzle. Vance grinned. "Ah, classic Undertale," he chuckled. The solution was obvious: push the three stones onto the pressure plates to retract the spikes blocking the bridge.

As he approached the first rock, Vance paused, glancing at the small stream running beneath the bridge. Technically, he could swim to the other side and bypass the entire puzzle. It would be faster. But something inside him resisted the thought. "No shortcuts," he decided firmly. "That would ruin the spirit of this place. It's about problem-solving, right?"

He approached the first rock and began pushing it toward the plate. The stone was heavier than it looked, and Vance found himself straining slightly as he maneuvered it into position. When it clicked into place, the satisfying sound of the plate engaging echoed in the room.

The second rock was no different. As he positioned it, he began to wonder about the odd placement of these stones. Why were they here? What purpose did they serve in the Underground? Were they deliberately placed as part of a test? Or were they just remnants of some forgotten past?

The third stone, however, was noticeably different. Unlike the playful, sentient rock from the earlier room, this one was completely inert. Vance couldn't help but wonder if the talking rock he'd encountered earlier was originally meant to be in this room. Had it somehow wandered off? Or had the reality of the Underground shifted, changing the details of the world compared to the game he remembered?

With a shrug, Vance pushed the third rock into position, completing the puzzle. The spikes on the bridge retracted with a loud clunk, clearing the path forward. He stepped onto the bridge and looked back at the now-silent room, his thoughts lingering on the differences between this world and the game he once knew.

"Maybe things don't need to make perfect sense," he muttered as he crossed the bridge. "The Underground has its own logic, its own stories to tell."

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Stepping into the next small room, Vance immediately noticed something odd. The warm, golden glow of what looked like a save point illuminated the center of the room, just as he expected. For a fleeting moment, relief washed over him—another checkpoint, a moment of safety. He hurried closer, ready to bask in the familiar sensation of a save.

But as he approached, the glow didn't pulse with the same ethereal energy he remembered from the game. Instead, the mark was static, etched into the floor and glowing faintly in the dim light. It wasn't real—just a decorative symbol that mimicked the save points of the Undertale world.

"Well, that's disappointing," he muttered, standing in front of it. He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously. "Guess I shouldn't expect this world to hold my hand as much as the game did."

Off to the side, something else caught his attention. A simple wooden table stood near the far wall, and on it was a block of cheese that looked impossibly fresh. The sight surprised him—it was completely different from the game, where the cheese had always appeared old and stuck to the table, as though forgotten by time. Across the room, a small mouse hole peeked out from the wall, and faint squeaking sounds could be heard.

The combination of the elements—the decorative save point, the table, the mouse hole—instantly brought a wave of nostalgia. He couldn't help but laugh, the sound bouncing softly off the stone walls. "It's like the game," he said, moving closer to the table, "but... not. Someone definitely spruced this place up a bit."

Vance stared at the cheese for a moment, debating whether to take it. His stomach growled softly, reminding him that meals in the Underground were scarce and often unappealing. The cheese, with its golden hue and creamy texture, looked far better than anything he'd eaten in a long time. But as he glanced at the mouse hole, his thoughts shifted.

"They probably need it more than I do," he muttered. Picking up the block of cheese, he crouched near the hole and placed it gently on the floor. "Here you go, little guy. Enjoy."

He waited quietly, watching the hole for any signs of movement. After a moment, there was a rustling sound, and a small figure cautiously emerged. At first, Vance thought it might just be an ordinary mouse. But as the creature stepped fully into the light, his eyes widened in surprise.

It wasn't a normal rodent.

Standing before him was a monster—a small, round figure with stubby arms and a sharp-toothed smile. It reminded him immediately of Maus, a quirky monster he remembered encountering in Deltarune's Chapter 2. The sight made his heart skip a beat.

"This... isn't canon," he whispered to himself, barely audible.

The creature grabbed the cheese and let out a playful squeak before scurrying back into the hole. Vance remained frozen in place, his thoughts racing. Maus wasn't part of the Undertale game. It was from Deltarune, an entirely different game made by the same developer. And even then, Deltarune had been incomplete when he last played it. He'd only made it to Chapter 4 before his death in the real world, and the story hadn't connected to Undertale in any concrete way.

But here it was—a monster from Deltarune, alive and well in the Underground.

Vance's mind raced with questions. If Maus was here, did that mean other monsters from Deltarune were, too? Was this world a blend of both games? Or was it something entirely new—something beyond his understanding?

As he stood there, staring at the now-empty table, a strange feeling settled over him. This wasn't just a recreation of the game he once knew. This world was alive, dynamic, and unpredictable. It wasn't bound by the same rules as the game he'd played in his past life.

The realization filled him with a mix of excitement and fear.

"This isn't just a game anymore," he murmured, clenching his fists. "This is real. And I'm part of it now."

He thought of the surface—the harsh reality of his life with his parents. Did he even want to return to that world? Here, in the Underground, he had a chance to live among his favorite characters, explore a vibrant new reality, and maybe even find a purpose. But there were dangers, too. Monsters like Undyne and Asgore weren't just quirky NPCs anymore—they were real beings with immense power. If he made the wrong move, they could kill him.

And then there was his soul.

He glanced at his reflection in a nearby puddle, his thoughts darkening. Without the ability to save and reload, could he really trust anyone? What would happen if the monsters saw his soul as their key to freedom?

"Could I even stop them?" he whispered.

Shaking his head, Vance pushed the thoughts aside and continued into the next room.

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As Vance stepped into the next room, the ambiance shifted noticeably. The map's intricate layout, which he had memorized in his previous life, flashed through his mind, a small comfort as he ventured further into the Underground. The air carried a faint, sweet scent, likely wafting from the room ahead where the spider bake sale was located. The room was wide and circular, its stone walls glimmering faintly with crystals embedded in the surface. Moonlight-like rays peeked through cracks above, illuminating a strange, ethereal mist that clung to the floor.

Near the center of the room floated a single ghost—a translucent figure with a glamorous aura. Despite its incorporeal form, it had an undeniable presence, and its large, sparkling eyes seemed to radiate charisma. Hovering beside it was a floating fashion magazine, its pages flipping lazily in a non-existent breeze. A few spiders scurried around the ghost, chittering quietly among themselves.

The ghost turned to face Vance, its gaze locking onto him. "Oh, my stars!" the ghost exclaimed, its voice rich and theatrical. "A human? Here? How utterly delightful!"

Vance blinked, momentarily taken aback. He hadn't expected to see another ghost in the Underground aside from Napstablook. But something about this one was... different. More vibrant. More alive. "Uh... hi," Vance said awkwardly, raising a hand in greeting.

The ghost clapped its hands—or at least mimed the action. "Well, aren't you just the most intriguing creature! I don't believe I've ever seen a human before." It paused, tilting its head dramatically. "Oh! Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mettaton—the future star of the Underground's entertainment world! But for now, I'm just... well, me." It gestured vaguely to itself, a faint shimmer trailing its motion.

Before Vance could respond, the spiders that had been gathered around Mettaton froze upon noticing him. They exchanged a flurry of panicked squeaks before scattering toward the room's far exit—the bake sale Vance remembered from the game. Mettaton sighed, watching them retreat. "Oh, dear. They're so frightfully shy, aren't they? I was just asking if they wanted to be part of my fashion show once I ascend to stardom." It turned back to Vance, its expression softening. "No matter. Their loss is my gain—because now, I have you to talk to!"

Vance shifted uncomfortably under the ghost's expectant gaze. "Uh, right. Nice to meet you, Mettaton. What were you doing here, anyway?"

"Waiting, darling," Mettaton replied with a flourish. "My cousin Napstablook said they might pass through here, and I simply had to catch up with them. It's been ages since we've had a proper chat! But alas, they're fashionably late as usual." Mettaton sighed dramatically, placing a ghostly hand over its forehead.

Vance couldn't help but smile. Despite the ghost's eccentric behavior, there was something endearing about its enthusiasm. "Well, I don't know much about fashion or entertainment," he admitted, "but it looks like you're really into it."

"Oh, you must let me educate you!" Mettaton exclaimed, floating closer. The fashion magazine beside it flipped open to a page showcasing extravagant monster designs. "Tell me, darling, what's human fashion like? Do you have glittering gowns? Dashing suits? Or perhaps something avant-garde that defies categorization?"

Caught off guard, Vance blinked. "Uh... well, there's a lot of variety, I guess. Some people wear suits and dresses for fancy occasions, but most of the time, we just wear regular clothes—shirts, jeans, sneakers. Stuff like that."

Mettaton frowned, clearly unimpressed. "How... practical," it said with a delicate shudder. "But surely there's more to it than that! What about performances? Do humans have stage shows? Glamorous stars? Dazzling lights and roaring crowds?"

"Yeah, we have stuff like that," Vance said, growing more comfortable as he talked. "Concerts, movies, plays... there's a ton of entertainment in the human world. But I never really got into that stuff much." He hesitated, his mind flickering back to his life before the Underground. "My family wasn't exactly... into big events."

Mettaton tilted its head, sensing the shift in Vance's tone. "Well, no matter," it said brightly, its tone shifting to a comforting warmth. "You're here now, darling. And if you stick around long enough, I'll make sure you get the show of a lifetime. Mark my words, once I get a body, I'll be the greatest star the Underground has ever seen!"

Vance chuckled despite himself. "I'll hold you to that."

Sure! Here's the revised ending that incorporates Mettaton receiving a call and learning that Napstablook is waiting at their snail farm:

The conversation drifted into lighter topics, with Mettaton sharing its dreams of fame and fashion while occasionally flipping through its magazine for inspiration. The ghost's energy was infectious, and Vance found himself relaxing more with each passing moment. Despite the oddness of the situation, he couldn't help but feel a sense of connection. For the first time since arriving in the Underground, he wasn't just surviving—he was living.

Just as Mettaton was about to gush about its plans for an extravagant fashion show featuring the spiders from the bake sale, a faint ringing sound interrupted. Vance blinked, confused, as Mettaton pulled out what appeared to be a sleek, ghostly phone. It glowed faintly, floating beside the ghost as it answered with an elegant, "Mettaton speaking!"

There was a pause as the voice on the other end murmured something. Mettaton's expression softened. "Oh, darling, I see! So you're at the snail farm today? I was wondering why you hadn't shown up." It sighed dramatically. "Well, no matter. I suppose I'll just have to hurry back to Waterfall if we're to have our little chat."

Another pause and Mettaton chuckled. "Yes, of course, I'll bring the magazine. You're going to love the spread on avant-garde shell designs! Truly inspirational. I'll be there soon."

Hanging up, Mettaton turned back to Vance, a look of slight disappointment flickering across its face. "It seems my dear cousin Napstablook has decided to wait for me at their snail farm instead of meeting me here." It floated a little higher as if bracing itself for a dramatic farewell. "Alas, duty calls, and I must make my way home to Waterfall! But worry not, darling—I have a feeling this won't be the last time we meet."

Vance gave a small smile, appreciating the ghost's theatrical flair. "Thanks for the chat, Mettaton. Good luck with your fashion dreams."

Mettaton beamed. "And good luck to you, my little human friend! The Underground is a curious place, full of wonder and excitement. Don't let it dim your shine." With a flourish, it began to float toward the room's far exit, the ghostly magazine trailing behind it.

As the last shimmer of Mettaton's form disappeared, Vance stood for a moment, letting the quiet settle around him. Despite the challenges of the Underground, moments like these made it feel... worth it. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the next door, ready to face whatever lay ahead.