Corruption

The Fall

Deep below the surface, by a single stream of sunlight, a bed of pale yellow flowers flourished. Every day, that lonely glow of gold flowed uninterruptedly into the cavern.

Except for one day.

A small shadow covered the flowers. It grew and grew and grew until the object it came from collapsed onto the silky corn petals. Air sucked the pollen upward and left it hovering over the small child. With determination, the child sat up and gathered itself in their new surroundings.

Soft weeping came from the corner of the flower bed just out of the sun's reach. The child crawled over and tapped gently on all of the surrounding flowers. One of the larger flowers gasped. It rose up above all of the others and turned to face the child.

"Howdy," it whimpered. "I'm- I'm- I don't like my name."

The flower buried its small face into its leaves.

"How about I give you a new name?" the child whispered kindly.

The flower stopped crying for a moment. "I think I'd like that."

"Okay. How about. . . Rachel?"

The flower snorted. "I'm not a girl, idiot."

The child seemed taken aback by his remark, but kept suggesting names anyway.

"Petals?"

"Try again."

"Iris?"

"I told you I'm not a girl!"

"Flowey?"

"Try- actually, that's not half bad. Flowey. It's not feminine and separates me from myself. I'll take it."

"Sold to the pretty yellow flower," the child smiled playfully.

"Say kid, what's your name?"

The child averted the flower's gaze. "I. . . I don't like my name either."

"Well, do you have a gender preference?"

The child let out a short, small chuckle. "I may be female, but I'm not picky."

"Hmm." Flowey tapped his invisible chin as he thought up a name for the little girl. He saw that she wore a tattered turtleneck, blue with pink stripes, and well-worn jeans. Her feet were barren and calloused. Just looking at her, he felt sorry for her.

"What about Frisk?" Flowey suggested.

"Why Frisk?" the little girl asked.

"You seem. . . playful- er, I mean happy," Flowey hesitated to think of something nice.

The girl gave a self-defeating smile. "But I'm not happy."

"Who said you needed a happy life to have a happy name?"

Frisk shrugged. "No one I've ever known has ever been happy, so I pretend to be. What's a little more pretending?"

Flowey felt his damaged heart ache for her. There wasn't much he could do for her; he was just a single flower in a bed of nearly identical flowers. However, he did know one person that might have known what to do.

"Hey idiot, it's not safe for you to stay here," Flowey warned Frisk. "Walk around until you find an old house with a big, fancy red tree in front of it. Accept all food offered to you but do not eat it."

"What about you?" Frisk asked. "Will my little flower friend come with me?"

"If you know what's good for you, you'll forget you ever met me. Now go," Flowey waved her away with his leaves. "The last thing you want is for another monster to find you."