The Valiant Queen

Freya was losing, and she knew it.

She didn't know how she could possibly be losing to a human child, but there was absolutely no doubt that she was. She should have known it was possible when a single slice of that knife almost destroyed her. She should have known it when that human looked gleeful when it looked as if she were about to die from that one blow.

While she could tell she was hurting the human - Is it a human? It looks like a human, but it also looks like a nightmare... - when it seemed that all it would take was one more hit to finish it, it kept standing, looking almost stronger than before - and more maniacal. She hated that smile, that twisted, empty smile, those glittering, bloodthirsty eyes...

This thing can't survive, she thought desperately, throwing everything she had at the chaos wearing a human's skin, the murderer of her best friend. But everything I do, it just... absorbs it. It's like no power can kill it, not even this power...

Her eye suddenly fell on the knife the human held. It was the real thing, an actual weapon that no child should ever hold, made of solid metal and sharpened to cut the finest hair - or the thickest bone. Though it was marred with a slight sheen of dust and blood, it was still strong, still powerful, and its cuts hurt.

Suddenly, her mind seemed to slow down, to focus. She stared at that blade, watching the light from her spears glitter off of it, watch as her blood dripped from its tip like rubies.

What was it that Asgore always said? she thought suddenly. "If you can't defeat someone, use their power against them. Let their own hands deal the final blow."

That's what he always said.

That's what I have to do.

But... how?

Suddenly, her mind found a way, and she grinned, so wide that it stung, so gleefully that she no longer felt the pain of her wounds.

It was dirty.

It was like cheating.

But it was the only way. And she wasn't going to let it go.

She summoned up a series of her golden spears, throwing them in all four directions and at varying speeds. The creature before her smirked, using one of her own spears it had stolen to deflect them. In that distraction, alone, she lunged forward towards it, when its back was turned and busy.

Her fingers closed over its left wrist, where it was still holding that knife, and she gripped tight. The creature turned to her in shock, about to pull back, but she grinned in reply, and, with all of her strength, twisted its arm backwards and jammed the knife into its chest, its fingers still on the handle.

The expression it wore was amazing, its mouth opens in shock, as blood blossomed from the wound and stained its striped shirt.

Then, before it could take a breath, her spears impaled it from all sides.

It fell, its eyes still on her, still amazed.

Then, those eyes went blank, and it was dead.

Freya stood there, panting and hunched over, feeling the pain of dozens of knife wounds all over her body suddenly screaming for attention.

Slowly, as if wary it would come back to life, she made her way over to the dead thing, one hand shakily reaching out, concentrating carefully. Her fingers shimmered with blue, and from deep within its bloodied chest, a bright red soul slowly came upwards towards her hand, as though pulled there with strings.

Freya smiled. She felt tears come to her eye.

She'd done it. She'd stopped it. And she finally had the last soul they all needed to be free.

But deep down, even as she cupped her hands around the beating pulse of light, she knew it would be her last act. She knew that she was dying, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She wouldn't live to see the surface, but at least she would know that everyone else would.

Well, almost everyone...

Her face fell, her eye spilling over with tears when her mind fell on Papyrus. He would never see the surface. She would have to ask Alices to scatter some of his dust there, along with hers, so that in a way, they both would.

Limping, she made her way slowly towards the place where the boatperson was docked. She'd only made it a few steps when suddenly, her phone rang.

Bemused, she held the soul in one hand tight and fumbled for her phone, her fingers numb and weak.

"He... hello?" she rasped out.

"Freya, absorb the soul!" the voice on the other end shouted, making her wince - but also making her heart clench. "Absorb the soul, Undyne, now!" The voice wavered.

"Alices..." she murmured, closing her eye slowly in a tired blink. "I can't... I need to... Asgore needs it..."

"Undyne, you need to do it, right now! You won't make it to New Home, not like that! You need to absorb the soul, Undyne, please, please do it! Or else you'll die!" The voice broke again. It stung, hearing Alices sound that way. "You... you can't die! Undyne, you can't die! I... We need you!"

Undyne listened, her breaths feeling heavy in her chest all of a sudden. She noticed that her vision was dimming around the edges, and suddenly all she wanted to do was lie down and close her eye and just...

"Undyne! Absorb the soul, right now!"

Alices.

She listened to that voice, heard how panicked it was, how afraid it was, and it cut deep. It cut through the haze of her dying, and finally, finally, she listened.

She closed her eye and brought the soul towards her chest. Her own soul reached out weakly, touching the stronger one almost tentatively before it almost seemed to snatch it from her hand greedily. Her eye snapped open and she gasped, dropping the phone and falling to her knees, then onto her hands, the feel of that soul merging with her own like an electric shock. It seemed to touch her blood and spread out through her whole body, and suddenly she felt that pain ebb away, that looming cloud of death dissolve into mere mist, and her weakness is replaced with wonderful, comforting strength.

She stayed there for a moment on her hands and knees, her head lowered and her eye shut, just breathing and trying to calm down, feeling her body shaking from the intensity of what she'd just done.

She felt wonderful.

She felt invincible.

She wanted more.

But she knew it couldn't last.

Once she reached Asgore, she would have to remove it, and she would die.

But not yet, she thought, opening her eye slowly, the colour no longer black but normal, though it glinted with a new kind of strength.

She then heard Alices's voice calling to her from her phone, and she picked it up.

"--okay?! Undyne?! Undyne!"

"Alice...s," she murmured, almost slipping up in a sudden moment of affection. She could picture the doctor now, huddled in the Lab with the last of the monsters, watching the monitor desperately as it filmed Undyne's actions.

Blinking, Undyne realized that when she'd started walking, she'd stepped out of view. No wonder Alices was panicking.

"Are you alright?!" Alices cried, her voice choked.

"Yes," Undyne said honestly, smiling faintly. Suddenly, she wished she were in Hotland with her, sitting on her box bed and watching documentaries with her, instead of here, like this. "I'm okay. It worked. I feel... I feel better. Normal."

"Oh, Undyne," Alices suddenly sobbed out, her voice muffled. "Good. Good. You-you need to tell As-Asgore what's happened. We-we need to plan wh-what to do, now."

"Right," Undyne agreed, slowly getting to her feet.

"T-tell him what's ha-happened. What you had to do. And then call me back with instructions on what I need to do next," Alices concluded, her voice a little steadier, now.

"Okay," Undyne said softly, already walking towards the boatperson's dock.

She didn't have the heart to tell Alices what she really intended to do, because she knew it would hurt the doctor - and that was the last thing she ever wanted, especially now.

"Call me back, Undyne!" Alices insisted.

"Alright, Alices," Undyne lied. "I will."

"Good. I... I... I'm... gl-glad you're... you're safe."

Undyne shut her eye tight. "I'm glad you are, too. Talk to you again soon."

"O-okay."

Undyne hung up and held the phone for a moment. Then, she pocketed it and went on her way.