December 25, 2015.

In a cozy home on a quaint farm, a young human farmer had invited a pair of skeleton monsters for a Christmas dinner together.

While they waited for the cooking to be done, both sides introduced themselves.

The taller skeleton with a red, tattered scarf placed a hand on his chest. “Greetings, human! I’m Papyrus.”

Showing his hand to the shorter skeleton, he introduced. “And this is my elder brother, Sans.”

“Hi,” said Sans. “Thanks for inviting us in.”

The young straw-haired farmer reached out his hand. “I’m Stephan Conroy. Nice to meet you.”

“Stephan Conroy?” Papyrus asked, “Do you have two names instead of one? Or is it one of those ‘family names’ like our former King Asgore Dreemurr?”

The man blinked at the question in confusion. Knowing a human would be puzzled, Sans explained, “We didn’t have any extra bells and whistles.”

“Ah, I see. Then, the latter. Stephan is my given name.”

Papyrus nodded. “That’s settled then, Mister Stephan! Well, let’s get to business. Do you need help with any chores? Maybe… chop some wood? Babysit your child? Fix the roof? I’m very good with construction, I’ll have you know.”

“Actually, I would like to have a chat.” Showing his hand towards the fireplace, Stephan invited the brothers to sit down by the warmth. “Please, sit down.”

The three men gathered by the burning yule logs. Within the field of their orange glow, the farmer asked a question in a hushed, serious tone. “Are there truly no other survivors?”

The brothers lowered their heads in silence.

Papyrus was the first to respond. “No one answered my phone calls. Not even Undyne.”

“Yup,” he said, “My brother dialed all the numbers until the batteries ran out.”

Stephan then asked, “How did you two survive?”

“By sheer luck and speed,” Sans replied. “We were out of town to buy ingredients for a turkey dinner. Y’know, the bird that’s in your oven right now. Hell broke loose while we were on the road. Saw the whole of Ebott get overrun by gigantic black thorns.”

“Indeed,” Papyrus affirmed. “Good thing I had the sense to make a U-turn and drive like my life depended on it! And that is how we wandered into your wonderful farmhouse.”

Sans looked at the direction of the farmhouse window. It had its curtains drawn, preventing him from looking outside. “I’m not complaining, but… are you sure we should be having a Christmas dinner right now? Your farm is not that far away from ground zero, y’know. That giant briar bush isn’t going to lay dormant forever.”

This time, it’s the human that lowered his head. “I have nowhere to go either. I’m out here because I’m bankrupt. My uncle gave this property to me so I could have a fresh start. If I lose this place, I’m as good as dead.”

The brothers started to sweat from that equally dire news.

“Wowie, I thought we’re the only ones suffering a huge calamity.” Papyrus pumped his arm and patted his imaginary biceps. “All the more why The Great Papyrus offers his strong arms to help you! Nyeh heh heh!”

“Yup.” Sans added, “It’s the least we could do to repay you.”

“Gosh, you guys are too kind! I mean, I thought my family will have to make do with potatoes and bacon for Christmas. If you insist though… how about doing the dishes?”

“Dishes it shall be, nyeh! I bet we’re gonna have a lot of cleaning to do after such a scrumptious feast.”

“A deal’s a deal!”

The three of them shared a hearty laugh together. They’re precious in dire times.

* * *

December 26, 2015.

The brothers packed up the last of their camping gear into the boot of Papyrus’ red car. Stephan, his wife, and his little daughter watched on with sadness on their faces.

“Do you really have to go?” he asked. “You’re welcomed to stay. I’ll even make you my farmhands.”

Sans shook his head. “Sorry, no can do. We need to start operations while that giant briar bush still sleeps.”

Papyrus added, “Besides, we also need to search for survivors! Who knows which cold, starving soul requires a timely rescue?”

“I see…” Stephan forced himself to smile. “Then, good luck. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to visit me.”

They waved goodbye and drove towards the destination of their mission.

The first half of the day was spent just shoveling the snow, pitching the tent, and making sure everything was secure.

By the time they were done, the sun had set across the horizon.

The brothers walked at the edges of the town ruins with lanterns in their hands. Black briars had entangled every building. Their tendrils paid no respect to windows, wood, and concrete. They were smashed all the same.

Heavy snowfall had blanketed the carnage, hiding the apocalypse that happened just a week ago. Everything seemed so quiet and peaceful.

“Hello???” Papyrus hollered. “Is anyone there???”

Only his own echo returned his call.

The younger brother decided, “Sans, we need to go inside. Maybe they can’t hear us.”

Just as he was about to step forward, the elder brother grabbed him by the arm.

“Wait.” Sans pointed towards a nearby shop. It had a flickering half-broken light. “See that, Papyrus? The town is still powered. The snow would have covered any possible live wires. It’s too dangerous to search the interiors right now.”

Realising the problem, Papyrus frowned. “…You’re right. That means we have to shut down The Core first.”

“Yup. We could get there if we trek from the opposite side of town. Go through the untamed forest and up the mountain. Then, head to the east-facing side to access the entrance to the Underground.”

“What about the other entrance? The one that Frisk and the other children fell from? It’s somewhere in the southwest, right? That’s on the way to our trek. If a child could survive the fall, maybe it’s not such a big drop down to The Ruins.”

Hearing Frisk’s name inflicted a strange tightness on Sans’ chest. He wheezed. Staggered backwards. Fortunately the younger brother caught his fall.

“Sans!” Papyrus exclaimed in worry. “Are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know. That was weird.”

After some contemplation, Papyrus decided to carry Sans in his arms. “I think we should head back to camp for now. You seem tired.”

Sans asked, “What about the search?”

“I can’t let anything bad happen to my only brother.”

“Oh, okay. Heh, bro. You’re the coolest.”

“I know, nyeh heh heh!”

* * *

December 28, 2015.

Shutting down the magical electricity generator was easy enough. Sans knew the shortcuts, and Papyrus had the physical fitness for quick travel.

The difficult part was the search itself.

Day after day, their efforts yielded nothing. They had found many broken items and torn clothes… but not a single survivor.

In front of Asgore’s house, what’s left of Undyne lay impaled under a pillar of thorns. She tried to defend her father figure to the very end.

Papyrus’ trembling hands scooped up her eyepatch from the snow. He tried not to cry, but he couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down his face.

Sans stood by his brother and consoled him. Together, they shared a moment of silence for the fallen.

It’s best to not stay around for long though. They have limited daylight. Sans patted his brother on the shoulder, saying: “Wait here for a moment. I’m going to search the house.”

He teleported past the thorn-blocked entrance. Ever since they shut off the electricity, ice had encroached the interiors of the flower king’s home.

Sans immediately checked every bookshelf and desk drawer. He even checked under the bed. He found mostly nature-related books… none of which was what he sought for.

He teleported out of the house to meet up with Papyrus again.

“Did you find it, Sans?”

“Nope. That worries me. Asgore swore on his crown to keep that particular book hidden away.”

“Well…” Papyrus glanced to the ground. “He doesn’t have a crown anymore. Maybe he thought people are allowed to read that book again?”

“You have a point.” Sighing, Sans rubbed his forehead in anxiety. “Talk about going from bad to worse. Now I have no idea where it could be.”

Being the brother with bright ideas, the younger one suggested: “Maybe we should check Toriel’s house! Frisk lived with her, right? They visited Asgore often too.”

“…I guess a kid may have come to the same conclusion as I did. At first glance, it would have read like a worldbuilding fantasy guidebook. Except, it being real and all.”

“Would you call it a science book then?”

“Yup. Magic science if you want to get specific. It’s dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Now it’s your turn to wait, brother! I’m going to bring a proper tool for the job.”

Sans watched Papyrus enter the remains of Asgore’s gardening shed. After some grunting, the younger one soon emerged with a heavy duty shovel.

Raising a brow, Sans asked, “Why?”

“I…” Papyrus paused for a moment. “I heard that humans leave corpses behind. They turn to dust in a slow, gooey, disgusting way. ‘Decaying’, they call it. That’s why they need to be buried. So… if we found Frisk’s remains… we should give them a proper burial.”

Ever thoughtful, that brother. It’s one of the reasons why he’s so endearing.

“Let’s go do that then.”

Unlike Asgore’s relatively intact house, Toriel’s residence had completely turned to rubble. Any searching or salvaging meant having to dig through mounds of broken concrete.

Papyrus looked at his single shovel. “…I don’t think this is enough for the job. Should we go check the Library first? Asgore could have donated that book there.”

“Toriel may still be alive.” That’s what Sans told himself. Even if the chance was minimal, he had to try. Guilt started to build in his chest.

What if he had been less careful?
What if he had searched for her on the first opportunity?
What if he came to the rescue sooner?

He lifted a piece of broken concrete with Blue telekinesis magic and tossed that aside. His Blaster would have done the job much more efficiently, but it risked collapsing the structure further. Or worse, he might obliterate any survivors by mistake.

His brother joined the dig, using a mixture of might and magic to clear the area bit by bit.

Hours passed. Snow began to fall. Their spirits were as fatigued and sore as their fingers.

At the bottom of the rubble, they found Toriel’s dusty clothes and an ancient tome.

“Hey Sans,” said Papyrus. “Isn’t that the book you were looking for? Super fancy with metal decorations? Positively edgy? Magic circle and a pentagram? I guess Toriel was the one who borrowed it.”

Was that what truly happened? It seemed out of character for Toriel to be interested in such matters. Besides, she wasn’t on good terms with Asgore. She wouldn’t want to borrow anything from her former husband if she could help it.

Looking at her clothes, Sans noticed a strange tear on her blouse. It was a clean, vertical stripe. About the size of a… knife?

Was she stabbed to death before the building collapsed?

Despite the strange circumstances, he pushed the thought aside. “Have you seen the kid?”

“No,” said Papyrus. “Maybe they’re elsewhere in the house.”

Yet, despite their best efforts… they could not find Frisk.