Doper and Frisk entered the village. Before them stood a massive gate carved directly into the heart of the mountain.

  “You think it’s there?” Frisk asked.

  Doper nodded. They approached while the villagers stared in shock and fear — Doper was dragging the fresh corpse of a cursed human behind him. Just as they reached the gate, a priest stepped forward and stopped them.

  “My child,” the priest said calmly, “you have finally come.”

  “Oh,” Frisk said, confused. “You talking to us?”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Doper said, clearly irritated.

  “My child, generations have waited patiently for your arrival — waited for you to save us.”

  “Okay…?” Frisk replied.

  “Please, give me your hand, my child,” the priest said to Frisk.

  “We don’t have time for this, old man,” Doper snapped, striking the gate’s lock with his great sword. It didn’t move. “What the fuck!?”

  “This gate opens only in the presence of the chosen one,” the priest explained. He guided Frisk forward and placed her hands on the lock.

  “What a load of bull,” Doper muttered.

  The lock suddenly began to glow with intense light, leaving them both stunned. A moment later, the gates slowly swung open.

  “What the hell?” Frisk said, staring at her hands. “Okay… that’s weird.”

  “Come with me,” the priest said.

  They entered a vast, empty chamber. At its center stood a smaller gate that appeared to lead nowhere. Something about it felt strangely familiar to Doper.

  “This is the Heaven Gate,” the priest announced.

  “Heaven Gate? So how does it work?” Doper asked.

  The priest pointed toward a wall covered in unfamiliar symbols.

  “Take a look.”

  The writing was completely alien — structured, deliberate, but unreadable.

  “I don’t think we can read that,” Frisk said.

  “It is written in the first language known to humanity. All translations were lost long ago.”

  “It’s Virellan,” Doper said.

  “What?” Frisk asked.

  “This script — it’s Virellan.”

  “You can read it?”

  Doper exhaled and began translating.

  "I.Of the Offering

  When the sky forgets its color and the realms drift out of step,

  seek the Blood of the Great Curse—

  for what was bound to him remains bound forever.

  Let it be spilled not in hatred, nor mercy,

  but in knowing defiance,

  for ignorant hands seal only empty doors.

  II. Of the Marking

  Trace the Circle Unending upon the ground,

  its edge broken in seven places,

  for the chain of realms is no longer whole.

  At each fracture, inscribe the sigil of passage—

  not as it once was,

  but as it failed to become.

  III. Of the Alignment

  The portal must not face the heavens,

  nor the void beneath,

  but the realm that lies adjacent in suffering.

  For no gate may leap the chain—

  each ascent demands a witness,

  each crossing a scar.

  IV. Of the Invocation

  Speak not Curse’s name,

  for he hears what is spoken and claims what answers.

  Instead, call upon the Law as it is now bound—

  through the will of one who may choose.

  Let choice be the key,

  and doubt the lock.

  V. Of the Opening

  When the blood meets the final sigil,

  the gate will not open as a door,

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  but as a wound.

  Step through without hesitation,

  for the realm beyond will collapse upon certainty.

  VI. Of the Warning

  Know this, bearer of the rite:

  each portal weakens the chain,

  each crossing draws the God’s realm closer—

  or drags the lower realms further away.

  There is no balance left to preserve,

  only endings that pretend to be paths"

  “Does that come with subtitles?” Frisk said dryly.

  Doper repeated parts under his breath, thinking through the meaning.

  “So we need the blood of the Great Curse to activate this thing…”

  “Let me guess — we’re going to hunt it down and beat its ass for the blood?” Frisk said.

  “Yes,” Doper replied. “Problem is, I don’t know where it is.”

  “The old man probably knows, right?” Frisk asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” the priest answered. “But I know someone who might help — Soul, the Goddess of Knowledge.”

  “Can you take us to her?”

  The priest led them to the Hall of Wisdom at the center of the village. Inside stood a grand chamber with a single throne. Upon it sat Soul.

  “I’ve been expecting you, Doper,” she said.

  “You know her?” Frisk asked Doper.

  “No — Not personally,” Soul replied calmly. “I am cursed with knowledge. I know everything about you — your past, your name, even your deepest secrets.”

  “Soul, we need information,” Doper said.

  “You may ask me anything.”

  “Where is the Great Curse?”

  After a brief silence, she answered:

  “At the southern edge of the world — the South Tower.”

  “What’s that?” Frisk asked.

  “A tower so tall it is said to touch the heavens.”

  “Any way to get there?” Doper asked.

  “Normally, no. But since you are the awaited saviors — yes. Speak with the old hag outside. He will guide you.”

  “Explain the prophecy to us,” Doper said.

  Soul sighed. “A mighty messenger and the Vessel of the Law will open the Heaven Gate and battle Curse to save humanity. That is all I may say.”

  “Who’s Curse? What’s the Vessel of the Law?” Frisk pressed.

  “You sure are a curious one — Curse is the god of curses, I fear thats all i could say.”

  “I thought you like knew everything?”

  “That is correct, but telling you wouldn't result in anything good”

  “Fine. Then what’s the Law?”

  “The Law of Two — every blessing brings a curse, and every curse brings a blessing.”

  “Then there’s a god of blessings too,” Doper said.

  “Yes — a god of blessings exists also known as Bless. Though he has lost his connection to the divine realm.”

  “How?”

  “Even I do not know. That is where you come in.”

  Doper nodded and turned to leave.

  Frisk notices soul's nose starting to bleed,

  "U good?" Frisk asked soul

  "Yea, im fine"

  "You Don't seem to be"

  "Knowing is different from surviving what knowing does to you kid — keep that in mind"

  The priest guided them next to the dragon barn.

  “What is this?” Frisk asked, stunned.

  “A dragon barn,” Doper said. “Pretty obvious.”

  “I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW DRAGONS WERE REAL.”

  “I didn't know either, until lately" the priest said

  "those are ground dragons. They’re not meant to have wings. True sky dragons are rare.”

  The priest opened a massive door at the far end. Inside stood two winged dragons.

  “Oh hell yeah!” Frisk shouted.

  “Okay, maybe not that rare,” Doper muttered.

  “These are sky dragons,” the priest explained.

  “This is officially the coolest thing so far,” Frisk said.

  “We’re staying a bit longer to get ready,” Doper added.

  As the priest turned to leave, he paused.

  “One last piece of advice — don’t attack the bones. Aim for the flesh.”

  Doper frowned slightly. “...Noted.”

  Later in the village:

  “So, where are we going again?” Frisk asked Doper.

  “We’re going to need some weapons — for you, specifically,” Doper replied.

  “But I’ve always been better off using my bare hands,” Frisk said.

  “True, but don’t you think they call it the ‘Great Curse’ for a reason?” Doper countered.

  “Fine then,” Frisk muttered, clearly bothered.

  “Hey, look — a forge,” Frisk said, pointing. “Maybe we can get our weapons from there.”

  Doper nodded in agreement.

  “Oh, hello there,” the blacksmith greeted. “What brings you here today?”

  “So, what do you think I should get?” Frisk asked Doper.

  “Don’t ask me,” Doper said. “You’re the one who’s going to be swinging it around.”

  Frisk scanned the weapons on the walls.

  “That one looks good,” she said, pointing at a sword wrapped in cloth. “Why is it wrapped?”

  “Ah — what fine taste you have, young lady,” the blacksmith said. “That’s the sharpest sword in town. Very effective… but also very dangerous.”

  “I’m taking that one then,” Frisk said, her face lighting up with a wide smile.

  Doper and Frisk left the village.

  “So why did you bring me here?” Frisk asked.

  “Seemed like a normal place to practice,” Doper replied. “But first, you need to know something.”

  “What is that?”

  “Killing cursed humans is possible, but killing a curse… that’s far harder.”

  “Aren’t they the same?”

  “No. A cursed human is a human in possession of a curse. Killing them is mercy. A curse, however, has no physical body. Kill the human, and the curse simply seeks a new vessel.”

  “So… how do you kill a curse?”

  “To attack the curse directly, you need to bind your weapon with Bane energy.”

  “Bane energy?”

  “In short: it’s energy from things that cause you great harm — usually curses.”

  “How do I bind it to my weapon?”

  “First, focus it in your hands — feel the blood flow, concentrate until you sense your Bane accumulating. Then grasp it and bind it to your sword.”

  Frisk tried for hours with no success. Finally:

  “I think I did it!” Frisk said, eyes shining. “Did I do it?” she asked Doper.

  “I can’t sense Bane on the sword… actually, I can’t sense anything from that sword. I can’t even detect the sword at all.”

  “I must have accidentally rediscovered an ancient technique or something,” Frisk said proudly.

  “No… probably just messed it up again,” Doper muttered.

  “Can’t you at least give me some credit?” Frisk said, frowning.

  “That’s enough for today. We need to leave as early as possible.”

  “Fine… let’s go.”

  Later that night:

  “Thanks for your help, old man,” Doper said to the priest.

  “I should be thanking you, my child. I wish you the best of luck,” the priest replied.

  “Bye, priest—” Frisk started, then stopped. “Wait… you never told us your name.”

  “Oh, my fault, my child. You can call me Father Orion.”

  “Alright, then. Goodbye, Father Orion,” Frisk said, flying ahead before Doper followed.

  When they arrived, the Tower loomed before them, surrounded by a frozen desert.

  “Good thing I brought my fur clothes — it’s freezing out here,” Frisk said.

  “Yeah… it’s kinda cold,” Doper replied.

  “Dude, you’re half-naked,” Frisk remarked.

  “Not the time for that — we need to find that curse,” Doper said.

  Inside, a staircase wound upward endlessly.

  “Are you sure it’s in the tower?” Frisk asked.

  “That’s what Soul said,” Doper replied.

  “She never specifically said it was in the tower, did she?”

  “True… but she didn’t say it wasn’t, did she?”

  “This is one of the stu—” Frisk stopped mid sentence, her and Doper sensed something — A hand burst through the wall to her left.

  “WHAT THE HECK!?” Frisk yelled.

  “I THINK YOU WERE RIGHT!” Doper shouted back.

  Doper charged at the curse’s hand, noticing it was covered in a hard, metallic substance. Realizing they were outmatched, he and Frisk quickly retreated outside — only to find the curse behind them. It struck, launching them both backward. Doper regained his balance, while Frisk’s weapon was knocked away.

  Doper charged again, swinging his sword with all his might. The curse’s hard scales, however, rendered him powerless — his almighty sword shattered on impact. Stunned, Doper was grabbed by the head and thrown into the tower, striking it and losing consciousness.

  While unconscious, memories flashed before Doper’s eyes. He stood on a grave with the name Darius engraved on the headstone.

  “Was I a good friend?” a mysterious voice asked.

  “No—” Doper replied. “I was told… you were the best.”

  He snapped back to reality to see the curse strangling Frisk. Beside him lay her weapon. Without hesitation, Doper seized it and charged.

  He drove it into the curse with all his strength. The weapon pierced the scales, striking the curse’s heart. The creature released Frisk and turned to ash.

  “Are you okay?” Doper asked.

  Frisk coughed. “It’s alright… I just need to rest a bit.”

  Doper stared at the pile of ashes, then at the weapon in his hand. “What… was that?” he muttered before having a strong headache and a stronger pressure behind his eyes like they were about to pop out of his sockets he started to see a human shadowy figure standin

  g on the ash "This wont be the last of what you see Doper — I will be waiting" the figure said with a menacing voice before vanishing

  "W-what the fuck was that" Doper muttered to himself

  Then–