VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 31

"Arrested?" Frisk's eyes were wide, glued to the television screen in the hospital lobby. She'd just arrived with Terrence and Greg, both of which were still recovering from getting knocked out earlier. Frisk had been fully prepared to make a beeline for Asgore's room, but the news of Mettaton and Papyrus's arrest had captured her attention.

"No way," Terrence breathed, the three staring at the television.

"-acts of terrorism across the city, including the murders of several monsters, are now believed to have been orchestrated by our very own local idol," the female reporter was saying as the camera zoomed in on a group of firefighters trying to put out a building engulfed in a raging fire, before shifting focus on a police cruiser driving away, the back of a skull clearly seen inside.

The TV quickly cut to a quick interview with a chubby, sweating man who clearly didn't know what he was talking about.

"-so I was just jogging when I heard this crazy explosion nearby. It's really a shame how all these celebrities keep getting into trou-"

Frisk tuned it out, completely horrified at the thought of Papyrus and Mettaton being arrested. They wouldn't hurt a fly, and she knew it--or at least Papyrus. What had happened? Some sort of fire, clearly, but the news story left her with few details and many questions.

"What the hell?" Terrence gawked, clearly upset at the news, maybe even as upset as Frisk, who could feel the adrenaline from her earlier encounter with the Messiah man.

"I know this sounds near-sighted, but uh . . . how about let's focus on one thing at a time." Greg advised. "Asgore, then Undyne, then Papyrus and Mettaton."

Frisk couldn't agree more, they had too much going on at once. "Alright, yeah . . . let's see my dad . . ." she sighed, and they continued on to Asgore's room. It was apparent that Asgore had been awaiting visitors, because as soon as Frisk opened up the door to his room, she saw his head turn to face her, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Frisk, dear," he greeted, but his smile slowly faltered. "You don't look rested."

"I know. I'm sorry," Frisk shook her head. "but it doesn't matter right now. Terrence, Greg, and I got attacked by a group of people from the Messiah."

Immediately, Asgore shot up in his seat, noticeably wincing as he did so, but ignored the pain. "What!?" he started pulling needles out of his arms, his face turning to anger. "No, that's not for several days . . ." He growled under his breath, which Frisk managed to hear.

"So you knew," she said, her question of whether Undyne and Asgore were in this together had just been concluded.

Asgore winced, trying not to let his wounds force him down. "Frisk . . . please don't be upset with me," he said, looking sympathetic. "I was going to tell you about the attack, but . . . well . . ." he looked down at his bandages, frowning.

"Were you going to tell me about the attack on Undyne?" Frisk asked, desperate for more information. Terrence and Greg stood there awkwardly as Asgore replied.

". . . She didn't want you to know," he admitted.

"You know what I'm capable of. I can help! I want to stop this just as much as you and Undyne. I'm not a helpless little girl," Frisk stated firmly.

Asgore couldn't look Frisk in the eye at this point, his anger dissipating, "Frisk—" he began, but the girl continued.

"I've accomplished things you have no idea about—and I was younger then. Don't leave me out of this kind of stuff, please. Mom . . . I want to avenge her death just as much as you. Dad, please, just let me into this."