The fire crackled as the two girls laid in the chair.

For the first time since she fell into the Underground, Frisk felt… safe. The presence of another person – an understanding, compassionate person – helped ease her guilt.

…but Frisk couldn’t say she knew anything about Chara.

She groggily opened an eye; the two must’ve fallen asleep at some point.

Frisk wanted to say something – anything – to break the silence. But looking at Chara’s face, she couldn’t. She looked too comfortable.

So instead, she laid there, and thought about who Chara could be.

The name did sound familiar. But from where? Her memory was fuzzy, between the…

Frisk’s hands instinctively balled into fists.

…the… killing and…

…the Reset?

Frisk squinted.

There was no other way to explain it. If this was her first time in the Underground, she wouldn’t feel this much remorse for… for killing her friends.

But she did. She had… vague recollections of another timeline. A peaceful timeline. One where… everyone was alive. One where they were all friends.

“…why did I Reset…?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Beside her, Chara began to stir, her red eyes slowly opening and looking at Frisk. Sleepy as she was, she could tell Frisk put something together.

“Good… is it morning? Good whatever-time-it-is.” Chara half said, half yawned. She slowly rose to her feet, stretching her arms into the air, yawning again.

Frisk stared at her. She had to know something. There was no way that she didn’t.

As Frisk opened her mouth to speak, she found Chara turning around.

“I heard you just now. You’ve put some of this together, haven’t you?” She was giving Frisk a playful smirk, but her eyes told a different story. Somewhat of a mixture between deadly serious and slight sadness.

“Frisk. There’s… a lot I need to tell you about myself. And about what happened.” The smirk vanished. There was nothing playful about this topic.

Chara grabbed a chair from the table, dragged it closer to the king-sized chair, and sat. Locking eyes with Frisk, she took one of her hands and gave it a small squeeze.

“None of this is going to be… easy. For either of us.” Chara’s voice was as gentle as her grip.

“But you need to know everything. And as unrealistic as it may sound at points, you have to trust me.” She squeezed Frisk’s hand for emphasis.

Frisk swallowed. Now that she thought about it, she was… scared to know. And nervous. Not even sure if she was ready to know, or if she ever would be ready to know.

“…What do you mean ‘everything’?”

There was only one way to find out.