UT: Unbound Souls

The flames danced in the dim glow of the Ruins, crackling as they cut through the air. Vance barely managed to sidestep the first barrage, heat brushing against his skin. Toriel's attacks weren't wild or reckless—they were calculated, precise, meant to corner him.

"Toriel, please!" Vance shouted, panting as he skidded across the stone floor. His jacket was already singed, the edges blackened and curling from the flames. "You don't have to do this!"

Toriel's face remained solemn, eyes glistening with something deeper than mere determination. "I do, my child. You wish to leave, but I cannot allow you to walk the same path as the others."

A wave of fire erupted from her fingertips, forcing Vance to duck and roll to the side. The heat seared his arm, and he bit back a cry. His body screamed in protest, but he refused to fall.

"I'm not them! I'm not like the other humans who came before me!" he pleaded, staggering to his feet.

Toriel's hands trembled, but she lifted them again. More fireballs shot forward, spiraling in intricate patterns. Vance weaved through them as best he could, though his legs wobbled, exhaustion creeping in.

"Every human said they were different," she whispered, barely audible over the flames. "And yet, they all perished. I cannot let that happen again."

Another blast surged forward. This time, Vance wasn't fast enough—one struck his side, sending him tumbling. He hit the ground hard, gasping as the pain burned through him. His clothes were in tatters, smoke rising from the fabric.

"Why…?" he coughed, struggling to stand. "Why are you fighting so hard to keep me here?"

Toriel's expression wavered. "Because I want to keep you safe my child," she murmured, hands tightening into fists. "Because if you leave, I will lose another child. I have lost too many, Vance."

Her voice cracked, and for a moment, the fire flickering around her dimmed.

Vance's chest ached—not from the burns, but from the weight of her words. He could see it now. The grief buried deep within her heart, the scars left behind by every human who had come before him. He wasn't just fighting for his freedom—he was fighting against the very pain that shaped her.

"I get it now…" he whispered, lowering his hands. "You're scared. You've always been scared, haven't you?"

Toriel flinched, but another set of fireballs materialized above her. "You do not understand."

"Don't I?" Vance asked, stepping forward despite his burning wounds. "You were there for the last human, weren't you? You saw her go. And then… you heard what happened."

The flames in Toriel's hands flickered unsteadily. "…Yes."

"She was just a kid, right?" he continued, voice soft yet firm. "Like me. Like all the others. And you let her go. You believed in her. And then you found out she never made it."

Toriel's breath hitched. The magic in her hands dimmed. "I—"

"You blame yourself," Vance pressed on, taking another step. His legs wobbled, but he refused to fall. "You regret it. You think that if you had just kept her here, she'd still be alive."

Toriel turned her face away. "Enough."

"But she still would have tried, wouldn't she?" His voice shook, but he pushed forward. "Even if you locked the door. Even if you fought her harder than you're fighting me. She still would have left."

Toriel let out a shaky breath. "Please… stop."

Vance hesitated, then swallowed. "I'm not asking you to forget her," he said, quieter now. "Or the others. But keeping me here won't bring them back."

Silence stretched between them. The air was thick with smoke and the fading embers of fire that never struck their target.

Vance's words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing down on both of them. Toriel's breath was uneven, her hands still trembling, fire flickering weakly in her grasp. For a moment, just a moment, it seemed like she might lower them completely.

But then, as if pushing her emotions aside, she straightened, her sorrow hardening into resolve.

"That is why you must stay," she murmured. And with a sweep of her hand, another barrage of fireballs erupted toward him.

Vance barely had time to catch his breath before another barrage of fireballs rushed toward him. His feet scrambled against the stone floor as he leaped, twisted, and dodged—barely avoiding most of them. But not all. A sharp sting seared his shoulder as one grazed him, followed by another burning against his calf. He gritted his teeth, staggering but staying on his feet.

"Toriel—!" he gasped, his voice hoarse from the heat in the air. "Stop! I get it, I get why you're doing this! But I'm not going to fight you!"

Toriel stood firm, her hands glowing with magic. Her expression was one of deep sorrow, but also unrelenting determination. "Then prove it, my child," she said softly. "If you truly wish to leave, show me that you are ready. That you understand what awaits you."

Vance clenched his fists. He knew she wouldn't kill him, but that didn't mean she wasn't serious. Her fire was faster, hotter, and more controlled than the attacks he had expected. This wasn't a simple test—Toriel was fighting with everything she had to keep him here.

He ducked as another wave of flames streaked toward him. His jacket was already singed, parts of it flaking off, revealing burned fabric underneath. He winced as pain pulsed through his limbs, but still, he refused to attack.

"You don't have to do this," he pleaded between labored breaths. "I understand now, Toriel! You're not just trying to stop me. You're trying to protect me. Because you think—no, because you know—what's beyond that door could hurt me!"

Toriel's expression wavered, her fire flickering for a brief moment before she steeled herself again. "Then stay. Let me keep you safe. Let me spare you from the suffering that awaits."

Vance exhaled sharply. He knew he couldn't win this fight—not in the way she wanted. But he could still reach her. He had to reach her.

"I used to think I had all the answers," he admitted, dodging another burst of flames, though his legs buckled from the effort. "That I knew exactly how this world worked... what was going to happen. But I don't! Things aren't the same as I thought they'd be. The ruins are different. The monsters are different. Even you... you're not just some guardian protecting an exit. You're real. And you've lost so much." He swallowed thickly, his voice breaking. "And now I get why you're afraid. Because the last time you let someone go, they never came back."

Toriel's attack faltered, her breath catching in her throat. "Vance..."

"All those children before me... they left. And they never returned. You've been carrying that pain for so long, haven't you?" He let out a bitter laugh. "And now here I am, doing the same thing. Running toward the unknown like a fool, without thinking about what it would do to you."

Toriel lowered her hands slightly, though the fire in her palms still flickered uncertainly. "Then you will stay?"

Vance hesitated, his heart pounding. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I do know I've been lying to myself. Telling myself that leaving is the only option. That staying here means being weak. But that's not true, is it? I just didn't want to feel like a burden."

Toriel's eyes widened. "A burden?"

"I never really had someone take care of me just because they wanted to," Vance continued, his voice quieter now. "My parents... they only ever kept me around if I was useful. If I did something for them. If I didn't, then I didn't matter." His fingers curled into fists. "So when Flowey said I was just using you, that I was taking advantage of your kindness... I believed him. Because deep down, I thought maybe he was right. That if I stayed, you'd realize I wasn't worth keeping around."

Toriel's expression crumbled, her body trembling. "Oh, my child... that is not true. That will never be true."

"I know that now." Vance took a shaky breath. "But it took this fight for me to see it. And to see him for what he really is."

Toriel's eyes darkened. "Flowey..."

"He got inside my head. Maybe he really thought he was helping me, or maybe he just wanted to manipulate me, but... he knew exactly what to say to make me doubt myself. And I let him." He exhaled sharply. "He's not what I thought he was. He's different. But that doesn't mean he's good."

Toriel studied him carefully before finally lowering her hands completely. The embers in her fingertips flickered out, and the heat in the air cooled. "You have grown, my child."

Vance blinked, confused. "Huh?"

A gentle smile, tinged with sadness, spread across her face. "You have learned much. You question your own choices. You understand your own fears. That is not something all children can do."

Vance let out a nervous chuckle. "I wouldn't call it wisdom. Just... learning the hard way."

Toriel let out a soft laugh before her gaze fell upon his burns and tattered clothing. Her expression immediately turned to concern. "Oh, my child, you are injured! Come, let me tend to you."

He winced, finally letting himself feel the pain that had been burning across his skin for the past few minutes. "Guess I didn't dodge well enough, huh?"

"You should not have had to dodge at all." Toriel's voice wavered, regret plain on her face. She reached out gently, brushing a hand against his cheek. "I should not have done this to you."

Vance shook his head. "No, Toriel. I think... I think I needed this. It helped me understand you. And myself."

She held his gaze, searching for any hint of resentment. When she found none, she sighed and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Then let us at least see to those wounds. Come, my child."

For the first time since this battle began, Vance allowed himself to relax. He didn't have all the answers. He wasn't sure what his next step would be. But for now, he wasn't leaving out of fear or self-doubt. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he once thought.

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Sometime later, Vance sat in Toriel's home, his shirt and jacket discarded beside him as she carefully applied a healing salve to his burns. The scent of lavender and mint filled the air, soothing yet slightly numbing. Her magic pulsed gently through her hands, helping to ease the pain as she worked in careful silence.

"You were reckless," she murmured, dabbing at an especially raw burn on his arm. "Brave. And foolish."

Vance winced but let out a small chuckle. "Sounds about right."

Toriel sighed, her hands hesitating for a moment before continuing. "I should not have hurt you. Even in my desperation… I let my fear control me."

"I think we both did," Vance admitted, his gaze drifting to the flickering fire in the fireplace. The glow reflected the tension still lingering between them, though it was softer now. "I thought leaving was the only answer. That I had to go because… that's just what I was supposed to do. But I never stopped to ask myself why I wanted to leave so badly."

Toriel's ears twitched slightly, her golden eyes watching him intently. "And what have you decided now, my child?"

Vance hesitated, running his fingers along the fabric of his ruined jacket. His mind felt clearer now, though it had taken the heat of battle and the pain of his injuries to reach this point. "I'm staying. For now. Not because I'm scared or because I think I can't handle what's outside. But because I don't know why I need to leave yet. I don't have a real reason besides just… wanting to. And after everything, that's not enough."

Toriel's face softened, a hint of relief settling into her features. "You are wise beyond your years, my child."

"Not wise," Vance corrected, shaking his head. "Just tired of running."

Toriel didn't respond right away. Instead, she finished tending to his burns and quietly stood, walking over to the kitchen. The sound of plates shifting and the warm aroma of something fresh filled the air before she returned, holding a small plate with a steaming slice of pie.

"Then rest," she said gently, placing it in front of him. "And eat. Human bodies require food to heal, much more than monsters do."

Vance's stomach growled loudly at the sight of the pie, and he chuckled as he grabbed a fork. "Well, if you're offering."

He took a bite, the buttery crust crumbling against his tongue, the sweetness of cinnamon and butterscotch melting into warmth that spread through his tired limbs. It was more than just food—it was comfort.

For a while, they sat in silence. Toriel took a seat across from him, her posture no longer rigid with stress. The fight had shaken them both, but in its aftermath, there was something unspoken between them—an understanding.

As Vance ate, his mind drifted back to everything that had led up to this. Flowey's words still echoed in his head, stirring something bitter inside him. You're just using her kindness.

He hadn't wanted to believe it, but deep down, some part of him had. The way he grew up had left him with the feeling that love and kindness had to be earned. His parents had only ever treated him well when he did something useful. If he didn't meet their expectations, if he didn't work hard enough, then he was ignored. Or worse. So the idea that Toriel could care for him with no conditions—that she would be willing to fight to keep him safe, not because she needed something from him, but simply because she cared—it had felt unreal.

And that was why he had wanted to leave.

Not because of adventure. Not because of curiosity.

But because deep down, he had believed that staying meant he was taking advantage of her kindness. That sooner or later, she'd realize he wasn't worth keeping.

His grip tightened on the fork, but he forced himself to relax. Flowey had known exactly what to say to get into his head. Whether the flower had done it on purpose or not, it had worked.

Toriel watched him quietly, her eyes full of a deep, knowing sadness. "You are troubled," she said after a moment.

Vance sighed, setting his fork down. "...I guess I've just been thinking about things differently now. I don't know what I expected when I first came here, but everything's different from what I thought it would be. The ruins, the monsters… even you. You're not just a guardian keeping an exit shut. You're someone who's lost so much, and yet you still choose to care."

Toriel folded her hands in her lap. "It is because I care that I have made mistakes, my child. Love is… a powerful thing. It can make us strong, but it can also blind us to the truth."

Vance nodded. "Yeah. I think I was blind too. I wanted to leave because I thought it was what I had to do. But really, I just didn't want to be a burden to you."

Toriel's expression softened, and she reached across the table, placing a warm hand over his. "You are not a burden, Vance. Never."

He looked down, swallowing past the tightness in his throat. "I'm still trying to believe that."

Toriel gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. "Then allow me to remind you every day, for as long as you stay."

Vance exhaled, something in his chest easing just a little.

But another thought crept into his mind—one that had been lingering ever since he woke up in this world.

He had played Undertale before. He knew how things were supposed to go. The barrier could only be broken with seven human souls, and as far as he remembered, Asgore only had five according to the amount of humans that had fallen down the underground in Toriel's story. That meant even if he left the ruins and fought through the Underground, there was no way to free the monsters yet.

At least, not according to the game's rules.

But this isn't a game anymore, is it?

The thought unsettled him. He had been so focused on what he thought he needed to do—on following the same steps the game had laid out—that he hadn't stopped to consider that things could be different.

Even if he could leave… what then?

He wasn't strong enough to fight Asgore. He wasn't strong enough to break the barrier. Even if he somehow followed the pacifist route and found another way, he didn't have all the answers yet.

And until he did, what was the point of rushing?

"...I think I want to do more than just stay," Vance muttered, staring into the fire. "I want to understand this world better. I don't just want to leave one day—I want to help."

Toriel's eyes widened slightly. "Help?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I don't know how yet. But if I leave without knowing what I'm really doing, I'll just be running away again. And… I'm tired of that."

Toriel studied him carefully, then smiled, warmth filling her gaze. "Then you are welcome here, for as long as you need."

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Vance barely remembered making it to his room. The weight of exhaustion had settled into his limbs the moment he stood up from the table, and the warmth of Toriel's home only made him more aware of how drained he felt. The battle, the emotions, the sheer weight of the day pressed down on him like an anchor.

Toriel had noticed, of course.

"You should rest now, my child," she had said, guiding him toward the hallway. "You have been through much today. Your body and soul need time to recover."

He hadn't argued.

Now, lying in bed, Vance stared up at the wooden ceiling, the faint glow of the Ruins' gentle light illuminating the small room. It was strange. Only a few hours ago, he had been so sure that he was going to leave. That stepping through the door was the next step, that staying behind meant weakness. But now… now he wasn't sure of anything except the fact that he was tired.

Toriel had given him something to wear after seeing the state of his clothes. His hoodie was riddled with burn marks, and his pants weren't much better, torn and scorched from their fight. The only thing salvageable had been his shoes, but even they were looking worse for wear.

Instead, he now wore a soft, oversized sweater—one of Toriel's borrowed clothes, since she had little else that would fit a human boy. It was striped, green with a yellow band running across the middle.

The moment he had put it on, something in his chest stirred. It was familiar.

The colors, the feel of it against his skin…

Chara and Asriel wore something like this in the game.

That thought sat heavy in his mind.

Did Toriel give him this sweater on purpose? Or was it just a coincidence?

Either way, it felt oddly comforting.

He curled up under the covers, letting out a deep sigh. His body ached, but there was a strange sense of fulfillment beneath the exhaustion. Today had been long. From the Dark Ruins to the battle with Toriel, to the realization that he didn't have to rush to leave… it was overwhelming.

And yet, despite all of that, he felt… okay.

For the first time in a while, he felt like he was starting to belong.

Maybe this new life—this new world—wasn't just something he had to navigate like a player following a set path. Maybe it could be a home.

A new kind of warmth spread in his chest at the thought.

His golden soul.

It had felt stronger after his fight with Toriel. Not just in the way it flickered with light, but in a way that was deeper, almost alive.

Was it because of his determination? His realization?

Whatever it was, it felt… different.

He closed his eyes.

At first, there was only darkness.

The deep, restful kind of black that came before sleep. His body grew heavier, his breathing slowing. His thoughts drifted, thoughts of the Ruins, of Toriel, of Flowey's words and the fight they had shared.

Then, the darkness shifted.

A presence.

No—two.

In the void of his mind, he saw them.

A red specter, glowing faintly like a dying ember, its shape indistinct yet unmistakably human. It floated there, unmoving, watching.

And beside it, barely visible, was a second figure.

A faint, light blue specter, its form so fragile that it looked as though it could disappear at any second. It flickered in and out, like it wasn't fully there.

Vance felt his breath hitch.

There was something familiar about them. A connection.

His soul pulsed, and he reached out instinctively, his voice barely above a whisper.

"...Who—?"

The red specter twitched. Its gaze snapped to him, its features indistinct but its eyes—they were deep, knowing, and sharp with something between curiosity and shock.

"You can see us?"

The voice was clear, cutting through the void with an almost unnerving clarity.

Vance felt a shiver run down his spine.

And just like that—

Darkness.

The specters disappeared.

The world of his mind faded away, and the only thing that remained was the steady beating of his heart.

Vance's eyes snapped open.

His body was still in bed. The room was the same. The fireplace in the distance still crackled softly.

But something had changed.

He sat up slowly, pressing a hand against his chest, feeling the steady pulse of his golden soul beneath his skin.

That… wasn't a dream.

He knew it.

Who—what—had he just seen?

The red specter's voice echoed in his mind again.

"You can see us?"

Vance swallowed, his hands curling into fists as the weight of the words settled into his bones.

He didn't know what was happening.

But something told him that this was only the beginning.