The wind howls as Sans and Undyne move quickly through the forest trail toward Snowdin. The snow is falling harder now—thick, fast, suffocating.

Undyne: (tense) "You think she’s still in town?"

Sans: (low) "If she’s not, we’ll know soon enough."

They reach the edge of Snowdin. The town is eerily quiet—no footsteps, no chatter, no laughter.

Then—

Grillby (shouting, distant): "How could you?!"

They break into a sprint. The closer they get, the louder the flames roar.

Grillby stands outside his scorched restaurant, his flames towering, uncontrolled. His usual calm is gone—his fire burns wild and furious.

Across from him stands Queen Toriel.

Her robe is torn. Her eyes blaze—not with sorrow, but fury. The snow around her is melted into slush. Steam rises from her feet.

Behind her, the ground is littered with patches of dust—soft, gray, and final.

Grillby: (furious) "You were supposed to protect us! You were our queen!"

Toriel: (coldly) "I was locked away. Forgotten. I woke up to a world that let him walk free."

Undyne skids to a halt, spear raised. Sans follows, his eye glowing faintly.

Undyne: (shocked) "Your Majesty… what did you do?"

Toriel: (flatly) "I did what I was trained to do. I judged."

Sans: (quietly) "Toriel… where’s Papyrus?"

Toriel turns slowly, her gaze sharp.

Toriel: (low) "I haven’t seen him. But I know what he did."

She steps forward. The snow hisses beneath her.

Toriel: (bitterly) "He locked me away with bones. Bones. As if that would hold me."

Grillby’s flames flicker violently. He looks ready to strike.

Grillby: (through clenched teeth) "You turned Snowdin into dust."

Toriel doesn’t flinch.

Toriel: (quietly) "Then maybe you should have stopped him."

Undyne steps between them, spear raised.

Undyne: (firmly) "Enough. We need answers. Not more dust."

Toriel’s eyes narrow. But she doesn’t move.

Sans watches her carefully. His voice is barely above a whisper.

Sans: (to himself) "This isn’t justice. This is something else."

Toriel turns toward the forest, her voice low and final.

Toriel: (darkly) "I need more LV to stop him."

The snow falls harder. No one speaks.