Mecha stepped out of Grilby's and into the cold, letting the tavern door swing shut behind him with a dull thunk. The warmth of the place still clung to his metal plating, but the night air wasted no time seeping in. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his mechanical joints giving a soft whirr as he flexed his fingers.
Snowdin was quiet at this hour—just the occasional muffled voice from a nearby house or the distant sound of the wind slipping through the trees. The snow beneath his feet crunched with every step as he made his way toward the outskirts of town.
He let out a slow breath, watching the mist swirl in front of him before dissipating. His thoughts drifted away from the conversation he had at Grilby's. No point in dwelling. His job came first right now.
Revenue. Maintenance. Material costs.
For all the fixing he did, for all the monsters that needed repairs, he wasn't exactly the richest in the underground.
His income was steady, but was still pretty low. Most monsters paid what they could, but some monsters were having hard times paying. Gold wasn't exactly flowing in the Underground. Some paid in full, others scraped together what little they had. A few even promised favors instead of payment—not that those always amounted to much.
The real expenses came from keeping his tools in working order.
Scrap metal wasn't cheap. Neither were replacement parts. The Underground wasn't exactly a technological paradise. When something broke beyond repair, getting the right materials meant salvaging whatever he could from old, discarded junk.
Maybe he should start charging more.
He screens smile disappeared at the thought. No, that wasn't his style. He wasn't in this to gouge people for every last piece of gold. He just wanted to keep things running, keep people from losing what little they had.
But he still had to eat. Well… metaphorically speaking.
Mecha sighed, rolling his shoulders as he approached the last stretch of Snowdin before it gave way to Waterfall's misty caverns. The cliffside loomed ahead, marking the edge of town—the transition between snow-covered floor and the rocky ones beyond it.
He paused at the edge of the path, staring down into the dimly glowing blue of Waterfall below. His mechanical fingers flexed at his sides as he adjusted his stance.
Then he ran.
His legs powered forward in long, rapid strides. The wind picked up against his frame as he pushed harder, faster, his stomps kicking up snow with each step.
Then—he jumped.
For a split second, he was weightless.
The ground fell away beneath him as he did a small hop, Arms tucking in as he curled into a tight ball. His plating shifted and locked into place, gears clicking as his form spun.
Then—impact.
The force of the landing sent him rocketing forward.
His spinning form blurred against the darkness of Waterfall's caves, blue reflections streaking across his metal body as he shot through the tunnels at a moderate speed.
The wind howled around him, his momentum carving a path through the damp air. The curved pathways and uneven rock formations were nothing new to him—he adjusted mid-spin, shifting his weight to control his trajectory.
The tunnels twisted, but he knew the route by heart.
A dip in the ground—adjust.
A sudden drop—lean left, bounce off the wall.
A ledge ahead—increase rotation speed, launch forward.
The sensation was electric. The sheer speed, the precision, the freedom.
Faster. Faster.
The cave walls blurred past him. The ground trembled beneath his momentum.
Mecha took a deep breath, letting the cool air of Waterfall fill his vents before exhaling through them as he continued to speed down the caves.
Enough.
Enough thinking about money. Enough worrying about what came next. That was tomorrow Mecha's problem.
Right now? He had places to be.
He powered forward, pushing off the ground with force using a ledge. The tunnels of Waterfall blurred past him as he gained speed. Faster. Faster.
He bounced again—tucking his arms and legs tighter mid-air, his plating shifting into place so he could move faster.
WHIRRRRRR—
The sound of grinding metal filled the tunnels as he shot forward like a bullet. The world became a blur of deep blues and glowing waterfalls, streaks of luminescent algae painting his vision.
As long as he was in waterfall, the terrain didn't matter. He knew these caves. Every dip, every curve, every jagged rock—he adjusted effortlessly, bouncing off walls, propelling himself through tight corners, using the very landscape to increase his speed.
The echo of rushing water mixed with the hum of his own movement as he streaked through the caverns, leaving nothing but a faint trail of disturbed mist behind.
Then-
A sharp turn. A long path.
And at the very end—the beginning of Hot land.
Mecha unfurled mid-air, landing in a full sprint. The moment his boots touched the scorching ground, he adjusted, shifting into an slow run.
Hotland was no joke. The heat was instant. The dry air sucked the moisture from his vents, his internal cooling systems kicking in with a soft whirr.
But he didn't stop.
The rocky pathways, the towering stalagmites, the distant glow of magma—he tore through it all. His didn't want to dash across these endless bridges, where one wrong move could send him into lava.
No, he had a shortcut.
The lab was just ahead.
He saw the silhouette of the building come into view—the large, looming rectangle that marked Alphys' workspace. The main entrance wasn't even locked; he knew the passcode.
Mecha slammed his palm against the scanner, and the doors hissed open. slowing down a bit, he strode inside, the cool artificial air washing over him a lot more comforting then Hotland's sweltering heat.
He barely had time to register the room before spotting Alphys.
The Royal Scientist was glued to a screen, watching some kind of anime. The blaring sound of a dramatic battle echoed in the lab.
Mecha didn't even slow down. He strode past her, barely glancing at whatever nonsense she was absorbed in.
"Hey," he muttered in passing.
Alphys, eyes locked on the screen, waved absentmindedly. "Hey—uh-huh—yeah, cool."
Mecha optics rolled in what could only be amusement.
He reached the other end of the lab, punched in a passcode, and slipped out the exit.
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