Frisk walked calmly down the snowy path, her eyes focused ahead, breath curling in the cold air. That's when she saw me—just standing there, as lazy-looking as ever, half-asleep and leaning slightly to the side like I'd been frozen in time.
"What's up?" I asked, voice casual and slow, barely lifting my head.
She glanced at me briefly but didn't say a word—just kept walking, quiet and determined, like usual. The kid was on a mission. Classic.
Still, I wasn't done yet. I blinked out of sight and reappeared further down the path. She didn't notice me at first, but the moment her eyes caught me standing there again, she flinched just a little.
"Say... are you following me?" I asked, raising a brow and flashing a grin.
No answer. Just a faint shrug before she continued onward like nothing happened. Tough crowd.
Figuring I might as well stick around, I made my way to where Papyrus was waiting—at the wooden bridge just up ahead. He was busy prepping something big, judging by the excited way he was pacing back and forth.
Soon enough, Frisk arrived, stepping lightly over the snowy boards of the bridge. Papyrus stood tall at the far end, practically vibrating with enthusiasm, arms thrown wide like he was presenting a stage show.
"Human!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the trees. "This is your final and most dangerous challenge! Behold! The Gauntlet of Deadly Terror!"
With a grand sweep of his arms, he revealed the setup. Suspended above were massive, cartoonishly over-the-top weapons: spiked balls, cannons, swinging blades... and, inexplicably, a small white dog dangling from a rope, panting happily.
"When I say the word," Papyrus declared, "it will fully activate! Cannons will fire! Spikes will swing! Blades will slice! Each part will swing violently up and down! Only the tiniest chance of victory will remain!"
He paused dramatically, his voice lowering like a game show host reaching the climax.
"Are you ready? Because I. Am. About. To do it."
And then... nothing.
An awkward silence filled the air. Even the dog stopped wagging its tail.
"Well?" I said, glancing over at him. "What's the holdup?"
"Holdup!? What holdup!?" Papyrus stammered. "I'm... I'm about to activate it now!"
More silence.
Frisk tilted her head. I just stared at the still, untouched traps.
"That, uh... doesn't look very activated," I said.
Papyrus rubbed the back of his skull, looking nervous now. "Well!! This challenge, it seems, maybe... is too easy to defeat the human with. Yeah! We can't use this one! I am a skeleton with standards!"
He puffed out his chest. "My puzzles are very fair, and my traps are expertly cooked! But this method—this is too direct! No class at all! Away it goes!"
Just like that, everything deactivated and disappeared offscreen in a blink. The dog plopped safely into a snowbank and ran off.
"Phew," he sighed. Then he caught me looking at him. "What are you looking at!? This was another decisive victory for Papyrus! Nyeh heh... heh..."
With one last awkward chuckle, he turned and marched away, his scarf fluttering dramatically behind him.
Frisk blinked but didn't say a word. She simply crossed the bridge, brushing snow from her boots, and kept going.
I watched her go for a second, then stepped up beside her.
"I don't know what my brother's going to do now," I said with a lazy shrug. "If I were you, I'd make sure I understand blue attacks."
She nodded quietly, taking the advice in stride. Then, without looking back, she kept walking.
Eventually, the snowy trees opened up, and the trail widened. Ahead, a large wooden sign stood tall, dusted with frost.
WELCOME TO SNOWDIN.
Frisk paused for only a second before heading into the little town nestled beyond the trees—ready for whatever came next.