The walk was shorter than Frisk expected.

Grillby's sat near the center of Family territory, and Papyrus's house was only a few blocks away.

The farther they walked, the more Frisk noticed the subtle differences between this part of the city and the neighborhoods she knew.

The streets were cleaner.

Storefronts were still open despite the late hour.

Monsters greeted one another as they passed, stopping to exchange a few words before continuing on their way. Some recognized Papyrus immediately, offering waves or cheerful greetings.

"Evening, Papyrus!"

"Working late again?"

"Don't stay out too long."

Papyrus greeted every single one of them with the same enthusiasm.

"GOOD EVENING!"

"HELLO!"

"I SHALL TRY MY BEST!"

No one flinched when they saw him.

No one hurried out of his way.

They smiled.

It was... strange.

Frisk had expected the territory of a powerful crime syndicate to feel oppressive.

Instead, it felt like a neighborhood.

That thought unsettled her.

She reminded herself that appearances could be deceiving.

The Black Roses had warned her that this was exactly how the Family operated.

They made themselves look respectable.

Safe.

Trustworthy.

It was part of the act.

Eventually, Papyrus stopped in front of a modest white house tucked neatly between two others.

A short stone path led to the front porch.

Flower boxes rested beneath the windows despite the season, carefully tended even if little was blooming.

A mailbox stood beside the sidewalk with two names painted neatly across the front.

PAPYRUS

SANS

Frisk's eyes lingered on the second name.

Sans.

The consigliere.

The one Evelyn had warned her about more than anyone else.

Quiet.

Patient.

Impossible to deceive.

If she was going to survive this mission, eventually she would have to earn his trust.

The thought made her stomach knot.

Papyrus bounded up the porch steps and unlocked the front door.

"WELCOME TO MY HOME!"

He pushed the door open with both hands.

Warm air drifted outside.

Frisk stepped in cautiously.

The house was... ordinary.

A cozy living room stretched out before her.

A comfortable couch faced an old television.

Bookshelves lined one wall, packed with novels, cookbooks, puzzles, and board games. Framed photographs covered nearly every available surface.

Papyrus proudly holding a plate of spaghetti.

Papyrus standing beside Undyne, both giving enthusiastic thumbs up.

Papyrus and another skeleton wearing blue slippers while standing in front of an enormous snowman.

The pictures were full of laughter.

Full of life.

She had expected the home of a Mafia captain to feel intimidating.

Instead, it felt lived in.

Loved.

The scent of tomato sauce lingered in the air.

Somewhere, a clock ticked steadily.

There were no lavish decorations.

No displays of wealth.

No obvious signs that one of the city's most powerful criminals lived here.

Papyrus spread his arms dramatically.

"I HAVE BEEN INFORMED THAT MY HOME IS VERY COZY."

Frisk slowly looked around.

"It is."

The admission slipped out before she could stop it.

Papyrus beamed.

"I AGREE."

He closed the front door behind them.

"I SHALL BEGIN PREPARING MY FAMOUS SPAGHETTI."

He hurried into the kitchen, humming triumphantly.

Almost immediately, cupboards opened.

Cabinets slammed.

Pots clanged together.

Frisk remained standing where she was.

For the first time all evening, no one was watching her.

She took a slow breath.

Her eyes drifted around the room again.

Every detail mattered.

Every photograph.

Every doorway.

Every room she could see.

She quietly noted the hallway leading deeper into the house.

One staircase.

Two doors upstairs visible from where she stood.

The kitchen directly ahead.

A back door.

Windows overlooking both the street and the backyard.

Without thinking, she reached into the inside pocket of her jacket.

Her fingers brushed against the burner phone.

Still there.

Still waiting.

She glanced toward the kitchen.

Papyrus was humming loudly enough that she doubted he could hear anything else.

For just a moment, Frisk considered slipping outside.

One quick call.

One short report.

Mission successful.

Initial contact established.

She had gained entry into the home of a Family Capo on the very first day.

Evelyn would be pleased.

Her fingers wrapped around the phone.

Then she heard Papyrus from the kitchen.

"FRISK!"

She nearly jumped.

"Y... Yeah?"

"I HAVE DISCOVERED A PROBLEM!"

Her heart lurched.

Had he found the phone somehow?

Had he figured her out already?

She quickly pulled her hand from her pocket.

"What is it?"

Papyrus appeared around the corner holding an empty box.

His expression was one of complete devastation.

"I AM OUT OF PASTA."

Silence.

Frisk stared at him.

He stared back.

"I BELIEVE," he said solemnly, "THIS QUALIFIES AS A HOUSEHOLD EMERGENCY."

Papyrus held the empty box like it had personally betrayed him.

"I PURCHASED MORE THREE DAYS AGO."

He turned it upside down.

One lonely, broken noodle fell onto the kitchen floor.

Papyrus stared at it.

"...THIS DOES NOT COUNT."

Frisk watched him silently.

Of all the possibilities that had crossed her mind, running out of pasta had not been one of them.

Papyrus sighed dramatically.

"MY APOLOGIES."

He lowered the box.

"I WISHED TO MAKE A BETTER FIRST IMPRESSION."

Frisk blinked.

"I think stopping a bullet was a pretty good first impression."

Papyrus's eye lights brightened.

"YOU THINK SO?"

"I mean..."

She shrugged.

"I've never seen anyone do that before."

Papyrus rubbed the back of his skull.

"IT IS A USEFUL TRICK."

He tossed the empty box into the trash.

"AND IT IS ALSO HELPFUL FOR OPENING STUBBORN JARS."

Frisk laughed before she could stop herself.

It escaped in a short snort.

She quickly covered her mouth.

Papyrus smiled triumphantly.

"I HAVE MADE YOU LAUGH TWICE."

"You've been counting?"

"OF COURSE."

He puffed out his chest proudly.

"I BELIEVE I AM DOING VERY WELL."

Frisk shook her head.

"You really are..."

She stopped herself.

"WHAT?"

"...Different."

Papyrus tilted his skull.

"I HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT BEFORE."

"No."

Frisk looked around the house again.

"I mean... different than I expected."

Papyrus leaned against the kitchen counter.

"HOW DID YOU EXPECT ME TO BE?"

The question caught her off guard.

She had an answer.

Several, actually.

Cruel.

Manipulative.

Dangerous.

Everything Evelyn had spent hours describing.

But saying any of that would be suspicious.

She looked toward the window instead.

"I don't know."

Papyrus nodded as though that answer made perfect sense.

"THAT IS FAIR."

He opened another cabinet.

"IF I HAD NEVER MET ME BEFORE, I WOULD NOT KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT EITHER."

Frisk couldn't tell if he was joking.

She was beginning to suspect Papyrus couldn't always tell either.

He continued rummaging through the cabinets.

Eventually, he emerged holding a loaf of bread.

Then a carton of eggs.

A package of cheese.

His eye lights brightened again.

"I HAVE A NEW PLAN."

Frisk folded her arms.

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

"I SHALL MAKE YOU A GRILLED CHEESE."

"...That's your new plan?"

"YES."

He smiled proudly.

"IT IS MY SECOND GREATEST CULINARY ACHIEVEMENT."

"What was the first?"

Papyrus looked offended.

"THE SPAGHETTI I NO LONGER POSSESS."

"...Right."

He busied himself gathering ingredients while Frisk remained near the doorway, watching.

She had expected a hardened criminal.

Someone who barked orders and kept weapons hidden beneath the counters.

Instead, Papyrus carefully buttered slices of bread with complete concentration.

His tongue poked slightly from the corner of his mouth as he worked.

He hummed the same tune he had been humming since they left Grillby's.

The melody echoed softly through the quiet house.

Frisk's eyes wandered again.

More framed photographs rested atop a bookshelf in the adjoining room.

One showed Papyrus standing proudly beside Asgore.

The Kingpin himself.

Asgore's hand rested on Papyrus's shoulder.

Both of them were smiling.

Another showed Undyne with one arm thrown around Papyrus while they posed beside what looked like a demolished training dummy.

There were dozens of pictures.

Birthdays.

Barbecues.

Holiday dinners.

Family.

Not business.

Not power.

Family.

It made her uneasy.

Criminals weren't supposed to live like this.

They weren't supposed to smile in photographs.

They weren't supposed to argue over pasta.

They certainly weren't supposed to invite complete strangers into their homes and make them grilled cheese sandwiches.

The stories she'd heard growing up painted monsters as vicious creatures.

The Black Roses had only reinforced those beliefs.

Yet nothing she'd seen tonight matched those stories.

Not Papyrus.

Not Grillby.

Not the monsters at the bar.

A quiet hiss pulled her from her thoughts.

Papyrus had placed the sandwiches into a skillet.

The smell of butter filled the kitchen almost immediately.

He looked over his shoulder.

"I HAVE AN IMPORTANT QUESTION."

Frisk sighed.

"Is it another favorite color?"

"No."

He smiled.

"DO YOU LIKE TOMATO SOUP WITH YOUR GRILLED CHEESE?"

Frisk couldn't help smiling back.

"...Yeah."

"EXCELLENT."

He reached for a pot.

"THIS EVENING HAS BEEN SAVED!"