The rain had eased into a steady drizzle by the time they stepped back onto the street.

Frisk stayed close to the buildings.

Old habits.

Her eyes swept every rooftop, every alley, every parked car. Every shadow looked like a Black Roses soldier waiting to finish the job.

Papyrus, meanwhile, walked straight down the center of the sidewalk.

His hands rested comfortably behind his back.

His orange scarf swayed with every step.

He hummed to himself.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

Frisk appreciated that.

She needed time to think.

The mission had worked.

Somehow.

Against all odds, she had made contact with one of the Family's Capos.

Papyrus had taken the bait exactly as Evelyn predicted.

She should have felt relieved.

Instead, her mind kept replaying the image of the bullet suspended in blue magic.

She had expected monsters to be terrifying.

Papyrus certainly was.

Just... not in the way she expected.

He had every opportunity to hand her over.

Instead, he had challenged armed men from the Black Roses to leave Family territory.

Not because he knew her.

Because she needed help.

It made no sense.

According to everything Evelyn had taught her, monsters looked for weakness.

They exploited it.

They manipulated it.

Yet Papyrus had asked for nothing.

No payment.

No information.

No loyalty.

The contradiction sat heavily in the back of her mind.

Papyrus suddenly stopped.

Frisk nearly walked into him.

He pointed proudly across the street.

"WE HAVE ARRIVED!"

Frisk followed his finger.

A brick building stood quietly on the corner.

Warm golden light poured through large windows despite the gloomy weather outside.

A simple wooden sign hung above the entrance.

Grillby's

If she had walked past it any other night, she never would have looked twice.

It looked...

Normal.

Like any neighborhood restaurant.

People laughed inside.

Music drifted faintly through the windows.

There were no guards outside.

No expensive cars.

No visible weapons.

Nothing that suggested this was one of the most important meeting places for the city's most powerful criminal organization.

Papyrus proudly opened the door.

Warmth immediately washed over them.

The scent of grilled food filled the air.

Coffee.

Fresh bread.

Charcoal.

For the first time all evening, Frisk realized how hungry she was.

Conversations continued throughout the restaurant.

Monsters sat around wooden tables eating dinner or talking quietly over drinks.

Nobody looked alarmed when Papyrus entered.

Several monsters waved.

Papyrus enthusiastically waved back.

"GOOD EVENING, EVERYONE!"

A chorus of greetings answered him.

"Evening, Papyrus."

"Hey, Boss."

"Nice scarf."

"THANK YOU. I PICKED IT MYSELF."

Frisk blinked.

Boss?

The word caught her attention.

No fear.

No forced respect.

The monsters actually sounded...

Comfortable around him.

Papyrus led her toward the counter.

Behind it stood a monster made entirely of living fire.

He calmly polished a glass without looking particularly interested in anything around him.

Papyrus climbed onto one of the stools.

"HELLO, GRILLBY!"

The fire monster gave a single nod.

Then his glowing eyes drifted toward Frisk.

They lingered.

Not suspiciously.

Just...

Observantly.

He noticed everything.

The soaked clothes.

The scraped hands.

The frightened expression.

Without saying a word, he reached beneath the counter and placed two steaming mugs onto the polished wood.

Papyrus smiled.

"THANK YOU!"

Frisk stared.

"I didn't order anything."

Papyrus looked confused.

"YOU LOOK COLD."

"...I don't have any money."

Grillby simply waved one hand dismissively.

Papyrus leaned closer.

"HE SAYS IT IS ON THE HOUSE."

Frisk hesitated before slowly sitting down.

The mug warmed her hands almost immediately.

She had not realized how badly they were shaking.

The warmth felt...

Nice.

Dangerously nice.

Across the room, several conversations had resumed.

Nobody seemed particularly interested in her.

Nobody whispered.

Nobody pointed.

Nobody stared.

It wasn't what she'd expected.

She glanced at Papyrus.

He was happily sipping his coffee.

Completely unaware that, several miles away, Evelyn Kane was probably waiting for the first report on whether her mission had succeeded.

It had.

Frisk was sitting inside the heart of Family territory.

Exactly where the Black Roses wanted her.

She should have been thinking about how to gather information.

Frisk stared into the mug for a long moment before finally taking a sip.

The coffee was better than anything Frisk had ever tasted.

That annoyed her.

She hated that she liked it.

Across the counter, Grillby continued polishing glasses with quiet efficiency.

He never rushed.

Never seemed distracted.

His movements were practiced.

Almost calming.

Papyrus, on the other hand, seemed physically incapable of sitting still.

He had already finished his drink.

Now he was tapping his fingers against the counter while looking at Frisk expectantly.

She tried to ignore him.

It didn't work.

Finally, he spoke.

"SO."

She looked up.

The skeleton leaned forward.

"I HAVE QUESTIONS."

Her stomach tightened.

Here it comes.

She carefully replayed Evelyn's instructions in her mind.

Never volunteer information.

Keep your story simple.

The fewer lies you tell, the fewer you have to remember.

Papyrus held up one finger.

"QUESTION THE FIRST."

Frisk braced herself.

"DO YOU LIKE SPAGHETTI?"

She blinked.

"...What?"

"SPAGHETTI."

He repeated the word as though it explained everything.

"I MAKE AN EXCELLENT SPAGHETTI."

Frisk stared.

She had prepared herself for questions about the Black Roses.

About her past.

About why armed men had chased her through the streets.

Instead...

"I've... had spaghetti."

Papyrus's eye lights brightened.

"EXCELLENT."

He held up another finger.

"QUESTION THE SECOND."

She sighed quietly.

"What?"

"WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?"

"...Purple."

"EXCELLENT CHOICE."

He nodded to himself as if confirming an important detail.

Frisk frowned.

"These are your questions?"

"YES."

Frisk looked away.

This was strange.

Everything about this was strange.

The briefing had prepared her for suspicion.

Interrogation.

Psychological games.

Instead, she was discussing favorite colors with a skeleton who made pasta.

Papyrus leaned back.

"QUESTION THE THIRD."

She rubbed her forehead.

"What now?"

"ARE YOU HUNGRY?"

"...A little."

His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood.

"I KNEW IT."

Before she could protest, he marched toward the kitchen.

"GRILLBY."

The fire monster looked up.

"I REQUIRE YOUR KITCHEN TO MAKE EMERGENCY SPAGHETTI."

Grillby stared at him for several silent seconds.

Then pointed at a clock on the wall.

Papyrus looked.

"...AH."

He deflated slightly.

"THE KITCHEN CLOSED AN HOUR AGO."

Grillby nodded.

Papyrus sighed dramatically.

"A TRAGEDY."

Frisk couldn't stop herself.

She laughed.

It slipped out before she realized what she was doing.

A quiet laugh.

Small.

But real.

Papyrus turned around immediately.

"YOU LAUGHED."

Frisk covered her mouth.

"I..."

"SUCCESS."

He pointed triumphantly at Grillby.

"I TOLD YOU I COULD IMPROVE THE SITUATION."

Grillby merely continued cleaning another glass.

If he had an opinion, he kept it to himself.

Frisk quickly looked away.

She wasn't supposed to laugh.

She wasn't supposed to enjoy herself.

She certainly wasn't supposed to forget why she was here.

The burner phone hidden inside her jacket suddenly felt much heavier.

She hadn't thought about it since Papyrus pulled her into the building.

It rested in the inside pocket exactly where Silas had placed it.

Waiting.

She wondered what Evelyn would say if she could see this.

Probably that Papyrus was manipulating her.

That every smile was calculated.

That every kind word was another hook sinking deeper.

Frisk reached instinctively toward the inside of her jacket.

Her fingers brushed against the burner phone hidden beneath the fabric.

She quickly pulled her hand away.

Not here.

Not now.

She would have to wait until she was alone.

If she was ever alone.

Papyrus was watching her again.

Not suspiciously.

Curiously.

"IS SOMETHING WRONG?"

Frisk forced herself to shake her head.

"No."

"You ARE certain?"

"I'm fine."

Papyrus studied her for another moment before nodding.

"VERY WELL."

He accepted the answer surprisingly easily.

No pressure.

No insistence.

Just acceptance.

Frisk found herself wishing he had pressed harder.

It would have made him easier to understand.

Papyrus remained quiet for all of three seconds.

Then his eye lights widened.

He shot upright so suddenly that his stool scraped loudly across the floor.

"I HAVE THE SOLUTION!"

Half the bar looked over.

Papyrus pointed triumphantly at Frisk.

"IF GRILLBY'S KITCHEN IS CLOSED..."

He placed a hand dramatically against his chest.

"THEN I SHALL SIMPLY COOK FOR YOU AT MY HOUSE!"

The declaration echoed through the restaurant.

A few nearby monsters chuckled.

Someone near the back muttered, "Here we go again."

Frisk blinked.

"Your... house?"

"OF COURSE!"

Papyrus smiled proudly.

"I HAVE AN EXCELLENT KITCHEN."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a great secret.

"IT IS SLIGHTLY BETTER THAN GRILLBY'S."

Grillby slowly looked up from the glass he was polishing.

He stared at Papyrus.

Papyrus looked back innocently.

"...MARGINALLY BETTER."

Grillby raised an eyebrow made entirely of flame.

"...IN CERTAIN CIRCUMSTANCES."

Another long stare.

Papyrus sighed.

"FINE."

He threw his hands into the air.

"IT IS NOT BETTER."

Grillby returned to polishing his glasses.

The matter was apparently settled.

Frisk couldn't help the faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"You don't even know me," she said.

Papyrus looked genuinely puzzled.

"I KNOW YOUR NAME."

"That's... not really the point."

"I KNOW YOU LIKE THE COLOR PURPLE."

"..."

"And YOU HAVE HAD SPAGHETTI BEFORE."

Frisk rubbed her temple.

"That's still not knowing me."

Papyrus considered this carefully.

"HMM."

After a moment, he nodded.

"THEN WE SHALL FIX THAT."

He stepped away from the counter and gestured grandly toward the entrance.

"COME."

Frisk didn't move.

Papyrus paused.

"YOU ARE COMING, CORRECT?"

She hesitated.

Every instinct she had screamed not to go.

This was exactly how people disappeared.

A powerful mobster invites you to his house.

Nobody sees you again.

She could almost hear Evelyn's voice.

Never forget what they are.

They lure people in.

They make you comfortable.

They make you think you belong.

Then they own you.

Frisk looked toward the front windows.

Rain still streaked down the glass.

Outside, somewhere beyond the warm lights of Grillby's, the Black Roses were still searching.

If she walked back onto those streets alone...

They would finish what they started.

Papyrus seemed to notice the conflict on her face.

"OH."

He scratched the back of his skull.

"I MAY HAVE BEEN TOO FORWARD."

He shifted awkwardly.

"I ONLY THOUGHT..."

He looked down for a moment.

"...YOU SHOULD NOT BE ALONE TONIGHT."

The words were quiet.

Almost embarrassed.

Frisk stared at him.

There it was again.

That strange sincerity she still couldn't reconcile with everything she'd been taught.

No manipulation.

No hidden demand.

Just concern.

It was unnerving.

She looked toward Grillby.

The fire monster had stopped polishing another glass.

He met her eyes for only a second before giving the smallest nod.

Not encouraging.

Not pressuring.

Simply...

Reassuring.

The knot in her stomach loosened ever so slightly.

"I..."

The lie came naturally.

"I don't want to be a burden."

Papyrus gasped.

"A BURDEN?"

He sounded personally offended.

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NEVER ALLOW A GUEST TO BELIEVE SUCH A THING."

Before she could object, he marched toward the door and held it open with an exaggerated flourish.

"AFTER YOU."

Frisk remained seated.

Papyrus waited.

Patiently.

He didn't rush her.

Didn't urge her forward.

He simply stood there, holding the door open as the cool evening air drifted into the restaurant.

Eventually, Frisk rose from her stool.

She pulled her hood back over her damp hair and adjusted her jacket, feeling the hidden burner phone press against her ribs.

Its weight reminded her why she was here.

This wasn't a visit.

It was reconnaissance.

Every room she saw.

Every face she met.

Every habit she noticed.

It all mattered.

She was doing this for the Black Roses.

She stepped toward the door.

Papyrus beamed.

"I BELIEVE THIS WILL BE THE BEGINNING OF A GREAT FRIENDSHIP."

Frisk's chest tightened.

She forced a weak smile.

"I hope so."

The words tasted bitter.

Because they were another lie.