When Doper and Frisk decided to investigate the strange noise they had heard, they suddenly saw a humanoid figure in the distance, barely visible through the thick fog.

  “Hello?” Frisk called out. “Are you lost?”

  The figure didn’t respond. They approached slowly, growing more nervous with each step.

  Suddenly, a spiked swinging log shot toward them from behind.

  Doper reacted instantly, shoving Frisk out of the way.

  —The spiked log tore Doper’s right arm clean off, smashing through every obstacle in its path.

  “Fuck! It’s a trap!” Doper shouted in rage.

  A humanoid, fungal figure emerged from the blinding thick fog.

  Doper wasted no time. He hurled his greatsword at the creature, slicing it cleanly in half.

  “Damn this…” Doper muttered to himself. “What a waste of time.”

  “Come on, kid. We gotta move.”

  Frisk stared at him in shock and fear, her eyes completely blank.

  “Oh, this?” Doper said, glancing at his torn arm. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt all that much—but we have to go.”

  “This was a funguy. It won’t take long before it regenerates.”

  —

  Later that day, as the two continued their journey—

  “I-I’m sorry,” Frisk said quietly, filled with remorse.

  “It wasn’t your fault, kid. Plus, look,” Doper said, raising his fully healed right arm. “I got a brand-new one right here.”

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  “H-Hold on… you can regrow your limbs?!” Frisk said in disbelief.

  “You couldn’t have told me earlier?!”

  “I thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” Doper said sarcastically. “But apparently, you’re proof that common sense isn’t that common.”

  “Hey!” Frisk snapped, both angry and relieved. “How was I even supposed to know that?!”

  “Kid, I already told you I’m about two thousand years old, right?” Doper said.

  “Couldn’t you just assume I’d have better healing capabilities?”

  —

  They kept arguing until dawn.

  Eventually, they decided to set up camp.

  “You sure are hungry,” Frisk said, staring at the pile of empty food cans beside Doper.

  “Regenerating a limb takes a lot of energy,” Doper replied, still eating.

  “I was wondering… why did you say that fungal thing could regenerate?” Frisk asked.

  “Does that mean it can’t die? What makes it different from the other creatures?”

  “So you’re not as stupid as you look, huh?” Doper answered.

  “You see, that funguy wasn’t a cursed human—it was a cursed object.

  Most humans, when cursed, turn into disfigured monsters almost instantly. That transformation takes so much energy and generates so much heat that they usually explode. The lucky ones are engulfed in flames, burning away what little skin and muscle remains.

  Although they are rendered unconscious they remain aware of everything and suffer in pain for months until they fully regenirate their bodies.

  Cursed objects, however, take forms closer to humans. Since they have no actual vital organs, they can’t truly die, because they were never alive to begin with.

  That funguy was the smart kind.”

  “That’s more information about cursed humans and objects than I ever needed,” Frisk said, clearly disgusted.

  “You asked,” Doper replied. “What could I say?”

  “Yeah… okay,” Frisk muttered, lying down to sleep.

  —

  A few hours later…

  Doper saw another vision in his sleep.

  He stood in a village full of life—children playing in the streets, men gambling away their money, women cooking in their homes. It was a wonderful place… yet strangely familiar.

  It wasn’t the village inside the great walls.

  Doper knew he had seen it before—but he couldn’t remember where.

  Someone tapped his shoulder.

  “Follow the sun,” the voice said again—this time clearer, as if it came from inside his own head.

  —

  The next morning, Doper and Frisk continued walking through the deserted world as they always did.

  “Hey, Dopey,” Frisk said cheerfully.

  “Did you just call me Dopey?” Doper asked, clearly irritated.

  “I was just kidding, man,” Frisk said, lightly punching his shoulder.

  “Remember when we first met in that building?”

  “What’s with your mood today?” Doper asked. “You’re pretty talkative.”

  “Just trying to know you better, you know,” Frisk said.

  “I think you already know enough,” Doper replied. “Don’t you think?”

  “If you actually think about it,” Frisk said, “I basically know nothing but your name and why you need me. Does that sound like a lot to you?”

  “If you think this trick will work, you’re a fool,” Doper said with a smirk.

  “Throw that hand blade, kid.”

  “C’mon, just this once,” Frisk pleaded.

  “I just wanna see what happens.”

  “I’m not letting you stab me—especially not in the head,” Doper said calmly.

  “B-But whyyy?” Frisk asked.

  “First, I don’t want to be stabbed,” Doper replied.

  “And second, if you stab me in the brain, I might lose my memory.”

  “Huh? How does that work?” Frisk asked.

  “I don’t know. It just does,” Doper answered.

  “Then how did you even know?” Frisk asked.

  “When you’ve lived as long as I have, it’s easy to read people’s faces,” Doper said.

  “That’s why I wear the mask.”

  “Oooh, so that’s why,” Frisk said.

  “Hey, look—there’s a city up that hill.”

  “Oh…” Doper muttered.

  –

  They climbed the hill ,before them stood a great city , a village full of life—children playing in the streets, men gambling away their money, women cooking in their homes. It was a wonderful place… Doper remembered, he knew he saw that place in his vision .

  "We're close.." Doper muttered .

  "Did u say something?" Frisk asked.

  And then –

  the end of chapter two