Undyne knocked once, then pushed the door open with the heel of her boot. The scent of spaghetti wafted through the air—burnt, but still unmistakably spaghetti.
"Papyrus! You said you were gonna wait for me before turning the stove on!"
A cheerful voice echoed from the kitchen. "I DID WAIT! FOR EXACTLY FIVE SECONDS."
Undyne groaned but chuckled. "Well, no explosions this time, so that's a win."
She stepped inside, armor clinking, her movements a bit slower than usual. Though her body had mostly recovered from the earlier battle, the lingering fatigue had dug deep.
Papyrus came bounding out, oven mitts still on. "UNYDYNE! YOU LOOK... NOT DEAD! HOORAY!"
"Thanks, bonehead," she said, ruffling his skull. "Let's try cooking something that doesn't set off smoke alarms, yeah?"
Papyrus beamed. "I HAVE A RECIPE FOR 'NEARLY-EDIBLE SPAGHETTI!'"
Undyne raised an eyebrow. "...That's a step up?"
They moved toward the kitchen, falling into their usual rhythm of chaotic, fire-risk-adjacent teamwork. As she stirred something vaguely tomato-colored, Undyne muttered, "Y'know, for a second, I thought today would end with another big fight."
Papyrus tilted his head. "YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO FIGHT THE HUMAN AGAIN?"
Undyne's hand paused over the pot. "I did. But... she spared me."
Papyrus blinked. "REALLY?"
"Yeah. She could've ended it. But she didn't." Undyne exhaled slowly. "I don't get her. But maybe... that's not such a bad thing."
The water started to boil over. "WHOOPS! STOVE EXPLOSION LEVEL: MINIMAL!"
Undyne laughed. "We're making progress, Paps."
---
Frisk walked alone, her footsteps soft against the warm metal of the Hotland path. The air shimmered with heat, vents hissing steam beneath her boots.
She paused at a fork in the path, glancing at a sign pointing deeper into Hotland. Her fingers brushed the edge of her shirt, the spot where a spear had grazed her not long ago. But that battle was over. And Undyne was still alive.
Good.
From the shadows, hidden among the natural piping and angular corners of the wall, Sans watched quietly. He didn't make a sound—didn't need to. He'd watched her pass through the Ruins, the Snowdin forest, Waterfall. Watched her struggle. Fall. Get back up.
But something about her... stuck.
Frisk didn't notice the skeleton watching. She only stood there a moment, then pressed forward again, determination in her steps.
Sans let out a small breath, more a puff of air than a sigh. "Still movin' forward, huh, kid?" he murmured, unseen. "Guess you're not pasta your breaking point yet."
He turned away, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. He wouldn't interfere. Not yet. But he'd be there. Just in case.