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There are two types of people in this world, you decided. Those who belong, and those who don't.

Run for cover

Those who belong achieve great things. They build massive monuments and create vast nations, conquer entire empires. They're doctors. Preachers. Leaders. They aspire to greatness, brushing off doubt as if it were merely lint on their clothes. They belong.

My sense of fear is running thin

And those who don't belong?


You stand overlooking the entrance to the Underground, feeling uncertain as you stare into the vertical cave of sorts with its magical barrier gleaming against the dark void of the opening. You shudder in the coldness of the early morning, tugging your hoodie closer. You needed to get this over and done with.

Just like a candle in the wind

You didn't deserve to live after what you'd done.

Tell everybody, tell everybody

You wonder if you should have left a note. Was there some sort of suicide etiquette people followed? A how-to manual called How to Kill Yourself 101? Death for Dummies? Sorry I Couldn't Make It, I Committed Suicide?

Brothers, sisters

You stare into your soon-to-be-grave. It was dark, quiet, and cold, and very much like the woods surrounding it. Mt. Ebott's woods had always been intriguing in the most dangerous of ways. 

The ending is coming

There was a certain peacefulness to the darkness, you thought. To death. In a daze, you take a step forward.

Oh, we are Fallen

The wind picks up just as you step off, knocking you flat on your ass. 

We are Fallen

Your eyes snap open as you gasp for air. Sunlight caresses your cheek as you lay there, panting. For a quiet, drawn-out moment, everything is still. 

Oh, we are Fallen

Your gaze shoots upwards.

We are Fallen

The sight before you takes your breath away.


Streaks of magenta and tangerine bleed into one another, casting a warm, orange hue onto the lush greenery around you. Warmth had replaced the bitter cold of the early morning, filling the hollowness that had seeped into every crevice of the dark forest. You felt like yourself for once. And, for the first time in a long time, you felt at peace.

Just like clockwork, the cogs of your thoughts click into place.


Your eyes widen at the bloodorange sky.

Not again.

You've seen this before.

Not now!

And just like that, you're in the middle of a thunderstorm.

The rain was blinding. It shot down like bullets as you stagger backwards onto the rainslick grass. You were soaked to the bone in seconds, panting, gasping. You hear screaming, but you don't know if it's the wind or yourself. The clouds overhead block out the beautiful sunrise, replacing it with dark shadows that creep into your subconscious. Thunder rumbles and lightning flashes, dancing in the sky as the clouds swarm above you, swirling, suffocating. You feel yourself being lifted off the ground by the howling wind, past and future morphing into one as you're hit with a vision. 

You land against the forest floor with a thud.

Your eyes flutter open, revealing the woods where you had just been. No storm, no rain, no angry wind. Just birds chirping happily in the brilliant sunrise. You try your limbs, fingers, neck, and your ribs. Nothing broken. Just bruised as all hell.

And, more importantly, you were now in control of your body.

Your gaze darts to the Underground barrier. It had been newly shattered, the remnants of the barrier swirling around you in the breeze, illuminated by the sunrise painted above you. And you weren't the only one who noticed. People in strange clothes were gathered around you, watching the sunrise in pure awe. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder as you're swept into another vision.

It was when you found it. You were just a child when you had stumbled across it in the west wing of your father's mansion, hidden behind a panel in the wall. It was an leather-bound journal with entries dating back to God knows when with a weirdass rune on the cover.

You expected to find elegant cursive inside, maybe juicy secrets. Poetry, lyrics, hymms. Hell, even declarations of love. Instead, you found–

Nothing. The pages were completely blank. You flipped to the front, the middle, the back.

There. Sandwiched between the last page and the back cover was a tear in the spine. Your fingers ran over the torn paper. A missing page.

You flipped to the cover, tracing the brand softly. It was a rune. The upper half a circle with wings on either side, the bottom half being three triangles, the bottom one inverted. It was ancient and rare prophetic rune Monsters believed to fortell a mighty hero who is said to awaken in the midst of darkness to guide Monsters.

And right in the palm of your hands.

"The Delta Rune," past-you whispered. 

Present-you visibly cringed. You held a hand over your chest, clutching the fabric between you and your scar, the scarred skin lighting up at your touch.

You hated this part. 

At your words the book flew open, the vibrations massaging your palms, shaking you to your core. The ancient text burned blue as it levitated off the page, weird symbols morphing into English as it translated. One by one they circled your form on the floor.

"In the darkest of times, light prevails yet again. Our hope for a better world will not falter. I will not falter." 

The whispers were soft, earnest. Kind. Like someone you knew. But the words were not.

"I've conquered entire nations with the snap of my fingers"

You chuckled nervously. It had to be a joke.

"They must die."

Okay, you thought. Not a joke.

"A path that is not mine to take. A place where I am not meant to go. I do  this out of love."

You felt it all around you, burning with the intensity of a thousand suns.

"I do this for you."

The all-to familiar characters that circled you swirled faster in the oppressive heat, burning brighter and brighter as they chanted. It was like you had been thrown in Hell's own special oven.

"I need to make a better world. A world in which they are no more. They must be destroyed." 

The whispers were harsher now, more insistent as you were lifted from the ground. Like in the storm earlier, you noticed, but now hot and claustrophobic as hell. You heard nothing but the chanting. Not the banging of the door, nor the doorknob jiggling. Not even your own screaming.


It wasn't her voice anymore. It was like every person in the world was chanting in unison into your mind. It was hard to think. Hard to do anything but clutch your head in agony.


It was hard to breathe.

"No more."

And just like that, the winds stopped. Your small body hit the ground just as the lights flashed, flickered, and died. Now the only light came from the hovering text. Your breathing was rough and uneven as you lay there, limp and clutching the book to your chest, ignoring the searing pain that it brought. You felt someone's arms around you, their murmures soothing.

Rey gently brushed the tears from your cheeks with her calloused, warm hands as she cupped your face, staring into your half-lidded eyes. She was crying. "–is dangerous, Mija. Do you hear me? The Delta Rune is never to be messed with. What were you thinking?"

Ms. Reyes. Your nanny who always let you stay over when your father was away because her home didn't feel empty. The woman who was more involved in your life than your own father, listened intently when you ranted about art because the kids in your class said it was stupid. No, Michaelangelo is not overrated. When you cried and said you liked girls the same way you liked boys.

Who had been there for you when your mother died.

The closest thing you had to a emotionally supportive parental figure; your nanny, who cared you like you were her own, knew about the Delta Rune. Your heart leapt into your throat as you struggled to find your voice.

Thump–thump, thump–thump.

"How–" The world spun as you tried to sit up. "How do you..."


Her pleas for you to stay awake blended with the hissing, fading chants of the rune burned into your chest as you succumbed to the darkness.

"Stay awake, baby. Stay awake."


A clear, distinct voice. "Beware the man who speaks in hands."



And suddenly you were back, and more than a little emotionally fucked up. Shit. Shit. You couldn't lose your cool, not yet. 

The woods. A hand on your shoulder, tentative, shy.

Their eyes flit to yours, and your breath catches in your throat. Caramel skin. Watchful brown eyes. Jet black hair. Striped sweater. Well, shit.

Speak of the devil.

Their head was tilted, their eyes studying you for signs of danger. When they find none, they smile warmly, and your heart stops. How they managed to look like a model with mud caked on them was astounding.

You forcefully swallow, needing a moment to compose yourself. You didn't deserve their smile.

"I'm sorry." You step back. Frowning, Frisk takes a step closer and reaches for you.

There's a feeling of weightlessness, a flash of light, and then everything goes dark. When you open your eyes, everyone around you is gone, leaving you alone in the lush forest clearing. 

You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, watching, still, as the white puffs disappear in the gentle breeze. In the distance, you think you hear sirens, though you're too busy having a panic attack to care.


What the hell were you going to do?

We are Fallen

You grip your hoodie just over your scar, the rune lighting up at your touch.

We are Fallen

You weren't meant to die here. Not yet. 


Taking a shaky breath, you lean over the entrance again. The seemingly bottomless pit does nothing to settle your nerves. You knew in your heart you didn't want to die. You could turn back, forget this ever happened. It's what your mom would have wanted. You–

We're just gonna ride it out

You feel a warm breath against your cheek.

I just wanna take it in

"Strange hours for a late night stroll, isn't it?"

Even when your fire runs out

You swiftly turn, and it takes every ounce of your self control to not scream bloody murder. 

Will you start it up again?

Dark eyes meet vermilion ones, and you knew in this moment that you were so, so fucked.

We are Fallen