Chapter 23. Hope
Embers flew through the air, the glowing specks of yellow and black hovered and rose towards the ceilings. The catacombs were dark, but the paths were comfortably illuminated by the many pools of molten rock. Crumbling echos eroded away the silence, as two people made their ways inside, their shuffling feet crunching over the orange and red gravel.
"Can we go back to the snowy place…?" The small child had asked, tugging at the skeleton's side playfully. The question at hand was not a surprise to Sans one bit, for he had taken them through another one of his shortcuts. The new destination was as opposite as it could get. The air was thick with scalding heat to the point that breathing was uncomfortable. The ground beneath the child's feet threatened to singe their fuzzy slippers, and the two beings walked along the edge of a narrow bluff, where Frisk could see a river of flowing magma below which glowed brightly in its hues of red and yellow. "Are you sure