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The Golden Quiche
Chapter 101: Taken

Chapter 101: Taken

You did it!

YOU DID IT!!!

You screamed the joy of victory at the top of your lungs.

After all that drama and fighting and crazy shenanigans, you passed the final final of all finals! A huge weight lifted off your shoulders, enabling you to jump like a happy baby goat despite your exhaustion.

Moooooom! Daaaaaaad! Look at you, a full fledged Magus ready to take on the ambassadorial role for real!

“That’s wonderful, my child!”

“I’m so proud of you.”

Daww. Dad cried actual tears over the microphone. It must have been stressful for them to watch you take on such a tough dude.

“I knew you could do it, kid. Wahahaha! Heard they’re gonna throw a party for ya. Maybe next week.”

The rest of the Jury wasted no time in joining the celebration; they cheered and clapped on your behalf.

“Ya blew me foo-- freakin’ mind away!” Said Juror Number 2. “Survived the trial o’ fire and livin’ to tell the tale? Heh, heh, I be lookin’ forward to workin’ with ya.”

“Good show. Congratulations.” Number 1. A man of few words.

“EEEEE YOU DID IT!! The youngest, cutest, tiniest, Crimson Keeper ever in history!”

“Number 7 forgets that she needs to breathe. Oh dear, is Number 4 alright? The madam looks pale. But it is alright, for the Queen of Monsters now attends her mild dizziness. She is happy for your victory.”

“…Judge Thyme, are you okay?…”

You heard an awkward cough from the Tsunderjudge. “I’m fine, thank you. Excuse me. Festivities can wait until we return to the real world.”

“What happened there, Judge Thyme?” asked Number 3. “That child kicked your Hex and our feed went offline! Thank the Chronographer’s foresight for a backup system. Even so, it was only just in time to witness the end.”

It did? You described to Number 3 what you had experienced. What is a ‘Hex’ anyway?

You heard a tired sigh. “Long story short, a foul creature almost hijacked the trial. Quite a lethal handicap. Judge Thyme, I sincerely hope you won’t pull such a stunt ever again. And consider a proper retirement soon.”

Oh here comes another hissy fight between Number 2 and 3. “M’lord had no damn choice! Yer think it be a good idea to elect a scrub out o’ urgency?”

“I’m very sure there are other Crimson Keepers of his calibre.”

“Settle down, men,” said Mezil. “Please keep internal issues as ‘internal’. At the very least, a whole new treatment option is now open to me.”

Mezil tried to walk, but the exhaustion made him stagger. All that adrenaline had seeped out of his body. You rushed over and offered a helping hand.

“Hmm? I would rather have my cane. I’m not even sure if you can walk by yourself either, let alone help me.”

Aww, that’s sweet. You told him that you’ll be fine.

Nonetheless, he insisted on his own way. He didn’t want to trouble you at all.

“Chronographer, sheathe please.”

By chance, is this ‘Chronographer’ his lovely wife? Since you’ve passed the test, there’s no point in keeping juicy secrets anymore.

If he was in a better condition, he would have blushed. Right now all you got was an irritated frown.

Doesn’t matter. You replied with a cheeky grin.

“Yes. She is,” he answered. “You will meet her soon.”

Nothing happened.

“Chronographer? Lucidia?”

Realising something went wrong, Mezil switched right into his cautious mode. He made sure you stayed close by his side.

You spotted a sudden blur on the ceiling right above his head. Pointed in that direction to alert him.

Right after that, you felt your world going sideways. Mezil had just shoved you aside in a rough manner.

Ouch! What the heck was that for?! You got angry. But when you sat up, you realised why he did so.

It’s Sans.

White. Blue. Black.

Hood, hanging over his skull.

At first, you couldn’t wait to get out of this room and start your new life.

But then…

Chaos cut your celebrations short.

Sans forced Mezil’s SOUL out into the open. The Judge’s Psychia reminded you of detailed glasswork, unlike your simpler chunks.

The skeleton let himself drop from above, flipping right side up, ready to strike.

Mezil countered. Too bad Sans was faster, swifter.

A narrow blade plunged straight into the old man’s glowing Red SOUL. You gasped, expecting it to explode.

Instead, a crimson flash collapsed on top of it. You spotted the faint shape of six wings.

Wait, was that a Mark?

It's holding Mezil’s SOUL together?

Sans looked at you. “Hey kid, ‘sup?” he greeted. “Looking bone tired there.”

What’s going on?

Why did he stab Mezil? The whole thing’s over and he--

“Thanks for safekeeping the final component. The casing is yours. I’ll give the rest back to you when I'm done.”

Huh?

For some reason, your Trap Harvester felt… lighter?

When you inspected it, you realised that you’re left with only the brass outer shell of the pocket watch.

Then you saw him roll up his right sleeve.

Is that a super high tech hidden blade?

Yes. Yes it is.

While you gawked, he inserted the remains of the Trap Harvester into an empty slot. It’s made snug to the size.

Streams of Determination started flowing from Mezil’s SOUL to Sans’ blade. The hands on the watch ticked at a steady pace.

You stood there in deep shock. You didn’t get it.

Why, Sans?

Why is he draining Mezil of Determination?

Why is he storing them in the Trap Harvester?

Why?

Sans put up his guard. He looked like his usual slacking self, but you could tell the subtle difference. “Sorry kid, don’t have time to explain. Incoming trouble.”

Trouble?

You heard the slight swish of a sliding door. When you turned around for that you spotted a… a…

Holy crap. What you saw gave you goosebumps. Who in the world was that?

A man?

A snake?

A skeleton?

All three?

What’s with his face? You can’t believe it’s not a mask. The dark stripes and the little pockmarks reminded you of a python.

He opened his maw to hiss, showing off his rows of thin, sharp teeth. From the sounds, you recognized this weird skeleton to be Juror Number 2.

That long forked ecto-like tongue tasted the air. From this distance, you caught a glimpse of what looked like a second mouth. It lacked singular teeth: more ‘mechanical’.

Are those freaky features implants…?

He dashed past you and lunged an immediate offensive on Sans. Fingerbones straight, each quick strike aimed for the joints and eyes.

Sans dodged in all his familiar fluidity, summoning his blasters to counter at will. The barrage of lasers hammered against the white tiles of the Hall.

“Frisk, move!”

Judge Mezil ran past you and grabbed your arm. He’s fleeing like a normal person: not exploiting his teleports. That’s super worrisome.

If the pro starts running, you sure as heck better follow.

As you ran, you almost had your pants shaved off by a few stray blaster shots. You think they’re stray. Then again, with Sans you never know.

Mezil conjured a handful of thin white needles. They floated above his palm.

Wow, he still has that much fight left in him?

He then sent the spray into the duelling skeletons. Sans called off his attack and teleported a good distance away.

The battle must be intense even by his standards, because he’s sweating bullets in a hunched position. He never, ever hunched before you.

Both Seers locked their sights on each other. Eyes, active. Either side stayed still for their opponent’s next course of action.

“…Gaelic, was it? Welp, I thought that martial art style is just the stuff of movies.”

This ‘Gaelic’ fellow grinned, flicking his tongue. “Nay, ya mad zealot. Fancied up fer the silver screens, but it be real. Existed way longer than us o’ bone.”

That stance… his arms look like a snake too. This is getting a bit too scaly, even for your standards.

Sans furrowed his brows. “I don’t think it’s very effective. They’re made by humans to fight against other humans. Don’t think your hunting skills are valid for a skeleton like me. No tender spots and whatnot.”

“Say that again once ah snap yer joints and gouge out yer eyes.”

“Heh. If you can catch me first.”

Sans sent some bones crawling on the floor. Gaelic countered them with rows of sharp predatory teeth.

!!!!

But Sans only has 1 HP! If anything lands a hit he’ll--

“Worry not,” Mezil replied. “Gaelic knows his limits. Deeper analysis suggests that injuries to the arms, legs, and bone surface will not inflict physical trauma on the SOUL.”

That statement stirred a morbid curiosity. You whispered a question to Mezil: what if the Eye is damaged? What happens to Seers who go blind?

He glanced at you before dishing out a blunt reply. “They die. Eventually.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

‘Eventually’?

Mezil then cast another ring of needles. About forty of them. “That’s the least of our concerns now. Escape to the Jury Chamber. Stay there. If you linger, he will soon target you.”

He showered them at Sans, forcing him out of the ideal spots. By keeping him on the defensive, he won’t be at liberty to execute a lethal strike.

…You hate to admit it, but the Tsunderjudge might be right. The only way you’d get answers out of this confusion was to keep yourself safe.

Sorry Sans. It’s for his own good.

You turned around and noticed that the entrance to the Jury Chamber was wide open. Sprinted there as fast as you can.

You almost knocked right into Mom. Forgetting all about your escape, you turned around to call out for her.

Stop! It’s too dangerous!

“Sans!” she yelled. “What are you doing?!”

Upon Mom’s voice, everything just stopped. Figuratively. But literal too: it’s an immediate ceasefire.

No one moved an inch before the presence of the Queen of Monsters. Including Sans.

The way he stared at her with a shocked, conflicted expression…

That’s absolutely certainly positively the face of a troubled admirer!

Whatever happened to his comedic pun-face?

What’s with the edgy gear and the drama stare and so on?!

Oh no.

Oh. No.

What have you done?!

You realised that you made a horrible mistake. A few days ago, you had invited Sans to brush Mom’s fur. That must have smashed some inner wall of the heart!

Dad and Gerson caught up. Wait, what?! The old turtle is here, with his hammer to boot?!

He chuckled at you. “Wa ha… I’m not sure if I can still fight, kid. But I’ll try.”

It’s okay. He’s not alone. There’s Mom, Dad, and others.

You shuffled behind Dad. Made sure you stay close.

Mom once again tried to placate Sans. “What is wrong? Are you alright? If there is anything bothering you, please talk to me.”

“I’m fine, Tori…” he replied.

“Then, will you stand down?” Mom did her best to be gentle.

Sans lowered his head and darkened his sockets. “I can’t. Not with your life on the line.”

“Me? In danger? I am not hurt at all.” She spread her arms to show herself. “See? Not a single scratch.”

“What about next month? Or the year after? Or ten years down the road?”

“Sans, that is too far into the future.”

“Exactly.” He said. “I can’t… I can’t protect you. And Papyrus. There’s just only so much I can do. Which, is almost nothing.”

The streams of Determination never stopped flowing. Just how much does Mezil have anyway?

Hang on…

You should have more than him. So, why didn’t it run out? Where are all the rest coming from?

Sans gave a fond smile to Mom. “Tori. I’ll look for you. We’ll pun together again. Same time, same place. Always.”

He vanished.

You felt an arm wrap around your waist. Your hair brushed against Dad’s cape as the sudden force pulled you away from safety.

Mom reached out for you. Called for your name. Magic filled the air for an attack to save you.

But in a blink, everyone faded into a miniscule horizon.

Sans had just whisked you away. Kidnapped you.

This time, it’s for real.

…………………

You ruffled through your hair in a brief bout of panic. Holy shit, this can’t be happening. After all of that, SANS had to be the bad guy?!?

“Kid, do you know where to go?” he asked.

That nerve. You yelled right in his face.

What the fuck does he mean ‘Where’?!?!

This is in the middle of the fucking VOID, like literal EMPTY SPACE OF EMPTY NOTHINGNESS and he doesn’t fucking know where to go?!?!?!?

Sans pulled his head back at your outburst. “A kid of your age shouldn’t be swearing like that.”

A man of his age shouldn’t be doing whatever he’s doing now!

“…I know I’m an immature slob. If you’re trying to piss me off, that’s not gonna work. Besides, it’s a good deal for you too.”

Explain.

“Later, kid. Wish I could, but right now we’re still ‘left hanging’, if you get what I mean. Help me look around.”

You growled.

There’s not much choice now, is there? You tried your best, but no dice so far.

Sans activated his Eye, switching it between cyan and yellow to scan the great nothingness.

You squinted in suspicion. His powers involved super-perception, right? Could it be possible that he’s seeing something you don’t?

“I think I see something.” Sans pointed down.

You told him it’s blackness all the way for you.

“Huh. Is that so? Welp, hang on tight kid. Huge distance to cover.”

One teleport jump and bam, you’re in front of a strange yet familiar place.

It’s… your SAVE screen.

Sans landed on the small patch of grass. He stared at the life-sized replicas of your monster friends, unnerved by the sight. All the while his cyan Eye stayed lit.

You could tell he’s analysing everything.

“W-whoa… kid. Is this really what you see whenever you LOAD your SAVES?”

Yup. And RESET too.

Too lazy to walk, Sans warped to his doll counterpart. “You built these or something? Like a command prompt?”

You shrugged. Whenever you made a new friend, a new doll appeared. Sometimes they would even pose for you. Oh, and hear the chiptune music in the background? That gets more and more elaborate too. Cool stuff.

“I’m kinda flattered. I mean hey, that means I’m important enough to stand in this little hall of fame.”

He jumped towards the replica of Mom. Touched her sleeves. Ran them down to her hand.

“Jeez. Even the texture is right. Really deep in the uncanny valley for me though. Freaky.”

Sans went on to examine the rest of the figurines. “Say kid, remember our chat about Thermodynamics?”

Sorta? It kinda melted your brain, but you get the gist of it.

“What’s the First Law?”

You tried to recall. It’s something along the lines of ‘you cannot create something out of nothing’. Something to do with energy.

“Yup. That’s correct. The First Law of Thermodynamics states that you cannot create or destroy energy in an isolated system. But what if you import energy from an external source?”

If that’s the case, a person would have extra material to work with.

“Exactly. Kid, every single thing in here is made of Determination. The dolls… grass… even the music too.”

Wait. What?!

“Yeah. That Crimson Hall? DT. All of it. This explains a lot. I was there when you two fell into a weird trance. Then I witnessed how the old Judge restored that place in a blink.”

You noticed a spike of delight on Sans’ face. “This is so cool. There’s so, so, so much more you can do with Determination than just time travel. I bet the couple made ideal test chambers with this knowledge.”

That excitement quickly flattened when Sans looked at Papyrus’ replica.

He couldn’t keep his eyes on it for long.

Mister blue skeleton still had you tucked under his arms. Maybe you should just punch him and run?

…Better not.

Getting lost in nothingness is a fate worse than death. Speaking from experience.

You bet your entire bank account that Mezil and his folks are organizing a rescue team as of this moment. You’d have the best chance if you stayed close to the culprit.

His attention turned towards the Ruins entrance. “Anything beyond there?”

You shrugged. Never did try walking through that place.

Could he just put you down already?

Like, seriously? You’re getting tired of being lugged around like a piece of dead weight.

“Sure you won’t try to flee?”

For fuck’s sake...

You motioned your arm out into the great darkness and glared. Which part of ‘the goddamn empty nothingness of the bloody Void’ did he not fucking get? Does it even LOOK like you have anywhere to run?

“Welp. Mental note: you’re a real pottymouth when you’re pissed off.”

Learned that from Chara.

“Only one condition. I’m gonna hold your hand until we’re safe. You never know with you Determinators.”

Yes sir. Just do it already.

So he set you back on your feet. You immediately grabbed HIS hand as a not-so subtle show of independence. Sans may be your captor but like hell you’ll let him treat you like a hostage.

He didn’t get annoyed. Not at all. Instead, he’s happy.

“Heh. You had gotten a lot stronger in this timeline. Imagined you were just a scared little kid once. Not that I really recall.”

“…I really respect this version of Frisk. Not lying. But respect doesn’t equate to trust.”

He chuckled bitterly at himself.

“I’m such a mess, huh? I share to you stuff that I don’t want my brother or Tori to ever know, yet I still have the gall to say I don’t trust you. If that’s not trust, what is?”

Sans’ sockets darkened. “Sorry. Life’s a big cruel comedy.”

…………………

If only you could read his mind, you’d understand what’s bothering him. Except, you can’t. Not that you want to either. Sans needs to come out of his shell sooner or later.

The both of you walked past the fake Ruins gate. As you expected, there’s absolutely zilch content beyond. At least, as far as you can tell.

Sans seemed to survey the area. This had to be the longest time you’ve seen his coloured Eye remain active.

“I think I can build around the edges. Better turn back first, though.”

Although you have no idea why he’s talking about ‘building’, you agreed. Let’s go back.

The gate was gone. It’s replaced by a familiar grey door.

“Oh man, really?...” You could feel Sans tensing up. After a brief contemplation, he relaxed. “Don’t think he can do much though. Other than being a nag.”

Who?

“You’ll see. Depends if he’s gutsy enough to show his face in front of me.”

Sans led you to the grey door. Turned the knob and pushed on through.

A chill wind swept past, shivering you down to the bone. Cold, cold, cold!

…Sans didn’t drop an ice joke. It’s scary to see him so cautious. You wondered if there’s anything super dangerous lurking behind the darkness.

“Coast’s clear, kid.”

Phew. You relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. Looking around, you noticed that you’re standing in front of a concrete walkway.

Oh! You recognize this chamber!

It’s where you met Doctor Gaster way back in the Underground days!

“Huh, you’ve been here before? ” said Sans. “Suppose it makes sense that Gaster can have his own private place. Brilliant scientist spread across spacetime. Stuck in the Void. Minimum level of Determination. Yup. This is his ‘house’ alright.”

Hey, if this is Doctor Gaster’s home...

You’re absolutely sure that Sans is gonna get spanked in the pelvis!

Sans laughed. “Good one, kid! But nah. The Doc may not even be tangible. You see, I froze most of his body in the real world. Can’t recompile what you can’t retrieve.”

“I knew he’ll play hero if he catches wind of my activities. So, I took preemptive measures to lock him up first.”

Crap. Here you thought the man who speaks in hands could save you.

“I thought things through, you know. Not that much of a bonehead.”

Sans closed the door. It vanished when he did so, leaving the fake Ruins gate as it should be.

His attention turned towards his hidden blade device. You tried to read the screen, but it’s all in weird symbols. What’s that?

“This?” Sans showed the bracer. “Top secret. Not ready to explain it just yet.”

“Welp. As I thought, being far away from the source makes the DT drain slow down to a crawl. Fortunately I am ‘Patience’. All I need to do is to waste time.”

“Hmm…” he pondered. “It’s probably too much for any human to build complex structures without aid. Your SAVE room was pretty bare, no offence.”

You puffed up your cheeks and huffed. It served its purpose!

“Heh. I know. But that kind of bareness isn’t Mister Judge’s thing. If my hunch is right, his sweet wife would code a management system and implant that into his SOUL. Maybe if I take a peek, I’d find what I need…”

A holographic panel appeared before him.

Wait, what?!

Since when does he have such leet powers?!

“Nah. This ain’t mine. It’s Mezil’s. It seems he handles all the construction in holo-consoles like these. Boy, Lady Lucidia sure knows her stuff.”

Wait wait wait wait wait wait hold on a moment there, Sans!

What exactly did he do to the Tsunderjudge?!

In the most casual manner ever, he answered: “I hijacked his powers.”

You dropped your jaw. Say what? When?!?

“When I stabbed him with this blade.” He showed you the red, gleaming metal. “Never wanted to kill him, y’know. I need his powers. And for that, he has to stay alive.”

“I own his SOUL now. By technicality. That includes his DT, the massive butterfly swarm, and whatever tools he had.”

Is he bloody serious?

Did Sans just cross the dirty hacker line?!

You’re definitely sure this is a thousand percent illegal!

Oh good lord... is there anything he can’t do?

“Stay awake, I guess? I don’t look like it, but I am on the verge of collapsing. There are only so many 2-hour sleep nights I can tolerate.”

Sans poked at the options.

He went to ‘Objects’ and flipped through the list by alphabet.

“Nice. All I need to do is modify these presets and we’ll have a good foundation to work from.”

A few more taps and a beanbag materialized out of pixelated bits. Block by block, the object built itself up into existence like some special effects movie.

You reached your hand out to touch it.

That thing feels just like a real beanbag in all its soft, cushiony glory.

“Oh this is godsend. Hey Frisk, you gotta see this. You can even spawn food!” Sans exclaimed. “Monster-friendly too! They figured out how to make these DT mockups safe for consumption.”

“Okay, let’s have some hot dogs, orange juice, and a bowl of potato chips. Oh and never forget ketchup. I’ll need a table for this. And… there.”

The table appeared.

The food appeared.

The drinks appeared.

What. In the world. Are you looking at? This is so surreal, you’re not sure if you’re dreaming.

“Welp…” said Sans. “That reminds me of one more important detail: you.”

He summoned out a pair of Gasterblasters.

You watched their aim turn away and towards the life-like replicas of your friends.

No.

No no no no no no no!!!

You let go of his hand and ran towards the dolls. Tried to grab them. Lift. Pull. Push them out of danger’s zone.

They’re too heavy. It turns out their weight was realistic too.

Sans’ aim stayed true to the end. His laser beams obliterated them one by one.

Asgore, Monster Kid and the ghost cousins were the first to go. He started off with those with the least connections in his life.

Alphys and Undyne, the two ngaah-crossed lovers followed right after. One was his childhood friend, the other a fellow nerdy science peer. You knew they were on good terms on the Surface. So why?!

You then watched him wreck his own replica without a flicker in his sockets. You remembered the bonfire, of how he burned every possession he could cram into that luggage case. Any hesitation about himself? Long gone.

What’s left were the figures of his beloved brother and queen. You spread your arms in a flimsy attempt to shield them.

Sans. Don’t do this.

That’s Mom.

That’s Papyrus.

Don’t they matter? Stop hurting himself, please!

Two Gasterblasters hovered over his head, waiting for their master’s command.

“…Nah.” Sans lowered his head. “They’re just dolls. I’ll meet the real deal soon enough.”

Two white laser beams zipped past your ears.

Everyone had turned to dust.

Desperate, you tried to scoop their leftover bits from the floor. You started to cry over the loss of your mementos.

It’s illogical. You don’t visit this place anymore. Yet, the thought of loss still hurts you.

“Sentimental, aren’t ya?”

Your sadness turned into anger. You got up, stamped your foot and yelled.

Sans! Why the hell did he do that?!

“Remember the promise you made, Frisk?” said Sans. “If I solve your problems, you’ll never RESET again. And you’ll never return to the Underground either.”

“You don’t need those memories anymore.”

Sans pressed a button on the screen. A transparent dome raised from the ground and hovered right over your head.

Before you realised it, you’re trapped.

“Don’t worry kid. I’m not gonna leave you hungry.”

He generated a water cooler, more hotdogs, a table, a chair, and a bed. Plus a portable toilet stand just because he can.

All these amenities doesn’t change the fact that it’s a prison. A comfortable one, but still a ‘bad situation’ in your book.

“Maybe I went a bit overkill there. I mean, I doubt it’ll take more than few hours to fully charge up. But whatever, it’s a test.”

Sans plopped himself on the beanbag and started munching on the generated food. As he did so, he continued to play around the console panels.

So casual. As if he’s having one of his many breaks.

“Hmm. A labyrinth? Sounds interesting. Let’s see. Diameter. Complexity. Puzzles…”

Blocks of stone spawned all around the edges of your little space. They stacked, climbed, and melded into a legit structure upon nothing more than a command.

“And done. Phew. It’s a waiting game now.”

The moment he wound down, his eyelids started to droop. “I’m gonna… take a nap… I’ll wake up just fine… don’t worry about me…”

That’s it. He fell asleep and snoring away. You can’t believe he’s napping in the middle of a crisis of his own creation.

The first thing you did was to pick up the chair and try to throw it at the walls of your prison.

If it’s glass, you can smash it!

Nope. Not a good idea. The chair bounced off the surface and almost hit you in the face. Turns out that it’s some high-density plastic of sorts. The extra curve certainly didn’t help.

You tried to think of other means to escape.

Nope. You’re stuck.

You decided that the best plan was just to take care of your health. Eat. Drink. Rest. Sans didn’t tie you up like the Gungnir.

Plus, if what he said was true, you won’t be stuck here for days on end. It’s only about an hour or two before his mysterious plans come to fruition.

A part of you doesn’t want know the results.

The clock’s ticking.

Rescue team, please hurry. For your sake and everyone else’s.