What should one do when they’re trapped in a puzzle box endorsed by a ‘troll’?
Why, troll him back with their own brand of games! A wonderful insult back to the mocker.
Or that’s what Gaelic would like to believe. He had a hunch that Sans might not care enough to get his bones rattled in the first place.
It’s still a better alternative than to just sit around, doing nothing. The heavens know that having two bored idiots in the same room is a recipe for terrible decisions.
Gaelic dug out a piece of the wall. Some of the structure consisted of true stone. Others betray their biscuity nature by colour and appearance.
He snapped the pieces into smaller chunks.
They sat across each other, cross-legged. The skeleton had removed his gloves for a little more sleight of hand.
With that, the two nutcases played a children’s game in enemy territory.
Round five.
Cenna tossed the even-sized chunks upwards and attempted to catch them with the back of her hand. Two managed to stay. The rest of them scattered far apart from each other.
She groaned.
Gaelic laughed so hard that he planted his boney fingers on the right side of his face.
“Oy, ya shouldn’t have thrown them that high. Ah git yer be bad with science, but standard applied physics? How do ya keep yerself alive? Wait. Ne’ermind. Ya kicked more buckets than M’lord by now.”
Cenna stuck out her tongue. “Meh, whatever. I got my old body back. I should be able to do this.”
It’s been a little over ten years since he first met Cenna as a spunky teenager. Maybe she matured here and there, but whenever she’s in Gaelic’s company… it’s as though nothing had ever changed.
“How many, aye?” he asked.
“As many as I can grab in one swipe!”
She launched the two pieces in the air. Her bright yellow eyes locked on them like a hawk.
With a confident grin, she swiped across the floor. Seven pieces in a single attempt.
Bold, Gaelic thought. But this IS Cenna Caraway.
Lo and behold, she caught the two falling pieces without a single spill.
“Booyah!” The Magus cheered. “See? I didn’t game over. Think you can top that, Gael?”
“Heh heh heh,” He snickered. “If ah can… we be playin’ cat’s cradle next. ‘Cause I’ll eat all yer bits here.”
“Whaaaaat?! Oh c’mon, I can’t cat’s cradle worth for shit!”
It was then he heard a sweet voice.
“…Gaelic…”
Gaelic raised his hand. “Hush. Ah heard someone. Sure o’ it.”
Cenna checked her earpiece. “Errrr… Dude, this thing’s dead.”
“Nay, nay, not from the gizmo.”
He cupped both hands over his earhole. No signs of an electronic feed. Nor did it mute the rush of empty noise echoing within his skull.
“Gaelic. Do… read …?” Again, the same voice. “Hold … There’s a lot …… static…… Initiating… adjustment protocol.”
“Ah think ‘tis be in me head!” he exclaimed.
Cenna looked like she’s going to fall over with worry. “Good lord. Don’t go to the loony bin for real. Not right now.”
Was it a dream?
A hallucination?
Has he gone too far into the deep end? Gaelic wondered. He’s more than aware that he teeters the edge of sanity. There were days when the line blurred like a dense fog.
Lady Lucidia spoke once more, loud and clear.
“If you can read me, tap your forehead three times.”
He hurried to do just that.
“I see you’ve been keeping yourself preoccupied. It’s time to get back to your mission.”
“Gaelic, please listen. You’re the only one we can re-establish a connection to due to your Seer’s Eye. Doctor Alphys assisted in the workaround and she’s online with us.”
He heard the voice of an unfamiliar person. It’s quirky with a slight nasal tone.
“H-hi! I’m Doctor Alphys. Um. It’s exactly as Lady Lucidia said. I-I-I know this sounds really crazy and all but um… please bear with us. It’s super, SUPER important that we don’t let Sans know about this. If he catches you before we break the fake Barrier, we’re gonna be worse than burnt toast.”
Lucidia added: “You will be my eyes and ears, as you have always been for me. I’ll see what you see. I’ll hear what you hear.”
His heart sang in joy with the thought of being useful to Lady Lucidia. But there’s a more serious predicament to address: the false angel cannot be graced with as much as a single hint.
So he had to feign his madness. Besides, Cenna knew better. He’d bet on his meal that the Vanquisher will understand the subtext.
“Aye, Miss Demon Hunter,” he said. “‘Fraid the sterile silence had gotten into me. False alarm. Ah… what wouldn't I give to hear the heavenly chords o’ M’lady from the sky?”
His friend playfully tossed one of the chunks at his direction. “Hey, keep your ship at the docks! We’re in a possibly apocalyptic scenario here. It’s no time for the poetic mush.”
“Is he your your special s-s-s-s----” If blushing had a sound, Doctor Alphys would be making it.
“No, he’s not my husband. Gaelic is like a younger brother to me. Kindly do not implicate that I’m in an affair to begin with. Any fannish-shipping logic should be shoved aside. Please.”
“…Wait. You’re married?”
“I suppose that I did not divulge about my marital status. Please allow me to clarify: Judge Mezil Thyme is my husband.”
Doctor Alphys uttered the loudest of dramatic gasps over the line. “Oh my gaaaaaaaawddd you’re in a cross-species relationship?! T-t-that’s! That’s! That’s SO CUTE I cannot stop squealing right now--”
“Doctor Alphys!!! You are in no liberty to pair fantastical romance between people! Even if we are indeed married.”
“S-s-sorry. B-but still I t-think a threesome is not a bad thing because a triangle is one of the strongest structures---”
“No.”
It had all the hallmarks of Lucidia all over it. Firm. Resolute. Intense.
Doctor Alphys squeaked the smallest ‘okay’ over the line.
The hilarity slayed Gaelic. Killed. Butchered. He’s on the floor laughing his pelvis off. Cenna described Doctor Alphys as a nerd, but he wasn’t prepared for the fact that she’s also a prolific ‘shipper’.
He likes this Alphys lady already. She’s like a tiny puppy waiting to be poked and teased.
“Ah gonna wander fer a while,” said Gaelic. Re-equipped his gloves for good measure. “Clear me head. Mind givin’ me the snacks?”
“Open your mouth, you doof.”
That he did. Cenna heaped the rest of the chunks straight into the opening. Talk about free feeding.
It’s a bit hard to chew with this volume… but he’ll manage.
“Don’t take too long!” she said, “Like hell I’m gonna go look for ya in this crazy maze. And watch out for the ‘real’ stone slabs. Those weigh a fucking ton compared to your nibbles.”
Unable to speak under his chewing, Gaelic responded with the ‘OK’ sign. He got back on his feet to climb his way up of the puzzle room’s many topsy-turvy stairways. It’s serious business from here onwards.
Lucidia gave the instructions: “We will need to confirm the true nature of this labyrinth, the location of the Dreemurrs, and the Captains. Choose your path as you see fit.”
“Aye, that be why I took the high ground,” Gaelic replied. He breathed in deep to brace himself for his upcoming task. The stakes were dire, and he’s growing hungry.
His Eye blazed. His vision cut through the walls and exposed its intricacies for all to view.
The charming nasally lady over the line burst into questions: “W-wow! Is this what Sans sees on a regular basis?”
“Negative,” the lady answered, “Gaelic is of Perseverance and Bravery. Long-distance vision, some level instinctive clairvoyance, and great data comprehension. It makes him sensitive to changes in the air as well. That’s why he could receive our transmission.”
“Oooooh!”
Far west of his location, he spotted the presence of the Dreemurr couple. They’re accompanied by a fluffy white dog.
There’s something wrong. One of them is lying down in the snow. It’s too far to judge who.
Gaelic pushed his mind to zoom in. Many would call that adjustment a trait of the Cyans, but he managed to force his Purple to work at a similar level.
It's Asgore! Toriel held his hand and kept trying to speak to him, eyes damp from concern.
“No… no, no, no,” Gaelic muttered. “It cannae be. He was alright earlier! Ah checked fer toxic reactions and King Asgore showed none o’ those!”
“Please remain calm.” ordered the sky maiden, “Queen Toriel has a history of excessive worry. In addition, she has a layperson’s knowledge of medicines at best. It may not be as serious as it seems.”
“Please don’t dwell on this any further.”
Calm. Calm. Stay calm.
Follow her voice.
“Ah better look fer the Captains.”
The fire of his Eye burned once more. Gaelic scanned through the remainder of the labyrinth.
So many dead end rooms.
So many unused chambers.
“Ah see… the false angel shifts this maze around to his liking.”
Far away in the Northeast end of Megalovania, near the pole, Gaelic spotted the fish and fire struggling to eat… spaghetti.
“What in the blazing fook am I seein’ there?” he asked out loud. “Ah don’t get what’s intimidating about a plate o’ noodles.”
Alphys gasped in horror. “It’s… It’s Papyrus’ old spaghetti! Mister Gaelic, you have no idea. His cooking used to be inedible. Enough to be literal torture!”
“Intel from previous timelines supports this notion. Doctor Gaster’s honest lessons changed a key variable.” Lucidia confirmed.
“Curious, curious.” His tongue flicked and slurped. “Ah want a bite fer meself. Gettin’ hungrier by the second.”
“Query: Do you see any exit points? Or a clue about the false Barrier’s mechanisms?”
“…Nay,” answered Gaelic. “‘Tis labyrinth be a trap. No way out. Not back. Nor forward. Methinks the road had long since been swapped out.”
“W-what about that big tower?” Alphys said, “Did I see a path? I-I’m pressing my face on the screen. It looks somewhat accessible.”
Gaelic zoomed in. He spotted it right away: a path leading upwards from somewhere below ground… cut off near the top by the Barrier itself.
“A sneaky bastard if there ever be one,” he commented. “The ultimate blockade that separates land from the heavens. If that be where The Child of Mercy sleeps, it be utterly pointless to try jailbreaking ‘em…”
“Suggestion: Seek Papyrus. He went ahead, therefore he should be well on his way towards the access point of Frisk’s prison.”
“Aye, aye. Ah reckon that too.”
The scout scanned all around. He moved clockwise in a circle.
No signs of Papyrus anywhere.
Counter-clockwise now.
Still nothing.
There’s one last place left to inspect, and it’s right under his feet: on the other side of this puny planetoid.
Thus he stared down.
From deep inside flashed a bright, invasive light right back at him. Whatever lurked beneath jabbed sheer pain into his Eye.
He felt himself knocking into the wall. Slid down against it.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Lucidia’s voice muted and echoed. Her sweet voice so far away.
”…Gaelic!… Gaelic!…”
She kept crying out for the language of an ancient people, lost in the annals of time. How strange. How curious. How easily he forgot that said lost language was his name.
“Gaelic! Do you read me? Speak to me, Gaelic!”
The haze cleared.
In times like these, he cursed the weakness of his being. All that needless worry over him.
“…Caught off guard,” he replied. “There be this weird distortion right below me feet.”
“Please don’t push yourself too hard,” said the fair maiden. “You still need your strength to traverse this labyrinth. It’s unwise to spend it all here.”
A long trek awaits. By survival sensibilities, she’d be right; he should ration his energy. Stretch out his reserves as long as possible.
But…
“Nay. We have to find him.”
Gaelic whispered a prayer of fortitude.
“O Almighty Creator o’ Love and Compassion. Grant mercy upon this poor soul. Please strengthen these weak bones with thy word o’ power. Yer blessing be needed in this darkest hour.”
Most monsters considered it to be a strange human tradition. Where do the words go? They’d ask. Why speak to a person that's invisible?
The Grandmaster taught him there’s more to existence than the material.
“From dust to sky. From blood to earth. Thy will be done.”
Once he mentally prepared himself… the brave one gave it another shot.
Into the depths of the abyss, he dove.
How would he describe this sensation to the women behind their safe screens?
Unpleasant. Irritating. It’s like wading head first into a blizzard, or a sandstorm. But unlike how those flying particulates graze the skin, this white light assaults the mind.
Gaelic’s sense of identity threatened to melt away within the onslaught.
Until…
He sensed someone in the yonder.
Another fire, Orange, like his own.
Their Eyes met.
It was brief. A mere glance. Yet, the vibe was unmistakably Papyrus.
Stop, he did. His bones quivered between breaths. “Papyrus. There. In the heart o’ the moon.”
“A-are you okay?” Alphys asked. “That… that was really trippy.”
Gaelic thought it’s better to ignore. The walls have ears.
Anytime, any moment, the false angel might appear.
Maybe Sans already lurked around the corner. Never hurts to have a little paranoia when dealing with the short one.
Lucidia requested his fullest attention.“Urgent clause: retrieve Papyrus. Return to Judge Cenna Caraway ASAP!”
The sky maiden’s words renewed his strength. He had a target now, and it demanded a full pursuit of devotion: to never stop until the deed is done.
“Aye.”
He stood up. To Hurry. Before the saboteur takes action.
Alas, he was too slow.
Gaelic sensed the chambers shift. They rolled. They rumbled and tremored. Some transformed along the way.
“Cor Blimey…” he cursed. “The false angel hath found me.”
Gaelic’s vantage point began to descend along with the stairwell. Step after step disappeared underground.
Meanwhile, Sans himself took the liberty to pay him a live visit. He stayed far away, riding along the shifting tiles of his personal labyrinth.
“Wondered when you’re gonna make your move.” He said. “Playing a kid’s game at the starting point? Really? I have to admit, it’s interesting. In an annoying way.”
The two ladies kept silent to lay low. It doesn’t appear that Sans had discovered Lucidia’s ploy.
Gaelic snorted in response. “Here I thought yer stone cold heart o’ jade be impervious to mockery.”
Sans replied; “Somehow, just looking at your face grates me. Must be the creepy mods.”
“Hah! Well then, ah be good boy and remove meself out o’ yer sight.”
The sly snake leapt through an opening in the shifting floor. He used his purple magic to latch on the underside, saving him from a straight plunge into a vast nothingness.
“…Ah ain’t losin’ me mind, am I?” he muttered to himself.
He’s sure he's on the ceiling now. Gravity’s trying to peel him away from the surface.
Chunks, tiles, whole chambers flew over his head. They reshuffled and rearranged into whole new rooms by the whims of their master.
“Oh. My God.” said Alphys. “A puzzle within a puzzle. T-this is beyond anime: it’s a real life video game! Myhandsaregettingclammypleasehelpme--”
Lucidia on the other hand, remained as analytical as ever; “Current hypothesis suggests that Sans Serif uses this open space for renovations on-the-fly. High probability that Papyrus is much further down, outside our vision. Proceed with caution.”
As if on cue, tiles of true stone detached from nearby randomized segments. They spun in their place before launching themselves straight towards the escapee.
Gaelic channeled his Orange Aspect into his bones for an extra boost of strength.
“A-a-are we gonna j-j-jump?!” Alphys squeaked.
Why not let the results speak for themselves? He grinned.
Two incoming tiles approached fast. He had a split second to gauge all the necessities to avoid certain doom.
Broken bones in front. Check.
Certain doom below. Check.
As for opportunity…
Check!
Just in the nick of time, he leapt toward a passing platform. The dodged projectiles smashed into each other: a reminder of what would happen had he hesitated.
The drop stretched out beneath them. Poor Doctor Alphys screamed over the line. Maybe she’s no longer looking. Ah, the standard reaction of a timid civilian.
Grab, success! He managed to latch onto the edge. Clawed his magic-laced fingers into the surface for extra grip.
But the dangers were far from over. The attacking stone tiles refused to cease.
Gaelic continued to hop from one piece of the puzzle to another, dodging along the way. Swift. Flexible.
“Whatever happened to yer no-kill promise, Seraphim?” Questioned the serpent.
Sans answered in all his matter-of-fact manner. “Should have thought of that before you slithered off. Either way, as long I don’t hit your skull or torso, you’ll live.”
“Goin’ fer me limbs again?”
“Always.”
More stone tiles ejected from the inner labyrinth. They continued their relentless zoom on their target.
Crash. Smash. Scatter. One misstep and it’s over.
Gaelic knew he can’t keep this up forever. The hurdle taxed his remaining strength. He already used too much, too soon.
“There’s a biscuit section up ahead.” Lucidia instructed.
That’s enough information to work with. He kept his tongue out to taste the air.
There it is. That aroma of salted wheat.
He let the incoming tiles make a hole into the softer ceiling. Before it regenerated, he climbed into the gap for a smooth escape back to the surface.
Alphys must have held her breath all the while. He heard a wheeze. “Too close! I-I think I’m getting dizzy.”
“Too early to celebrate,” he replied. His gaze darted back and forth, keeping a lookout for the Seraphim’s next action. Poor Doctor Alphys had to bear with the motion-sickness.
A spike of magic power gathered beneath his feet. He swooped out of the way before a great beam of light ripped through the floor.
From the inflicted damages, the poison dubbed as ‘Karma’ spread its touch of decay.
“I-I-I-I don’t think we’re supposed to have purple ominous lights crawling ANYWHERE!”
Gaelic got on his feet and ran.
“Ah cannae run blind!” he spoke out loud.
He scanned his surroundings for a strategy. Found Cenna in the upper floors, while fish and fire rode a seated elevator down toward Papyrus. Everyone’s cautious demeanour indicated that they could hear the chaos.
“Get to Undyne, hurry!” the doctor exclaimed.
But Lucidia denied: “No! Sans Serif knows too much about her to be an effective counter. I apologize, but Judge Caraway is the better candidate.”
“Aye, agreed.” Gaelic replied. That’s his intended target from the beginning.
Sans’ bones zoomed past his face. Anywhere they pegged, the spread of decay further rippled like a pebble to water.
Left, he turned. Sensed another false wall made out of baked goods. His own brand of magic punctured through it as he climbed upwards in an attempt to get closer to Cenna.
She’s getting agitated. He could see that she had begun blasting her surroundings in search for him too.
Faster, faster, he told himself. Onward to his goal: straight ahead, taking the shortest route, digging and smashing through biscuit walls with nothing more than his raw limbs. He will not rest until he reaches there.
That’s how he survived to this day.
Now he must outmaneuver the environment itself. Gaelic could feel the cursed touch of Karma trailing near his feet. He has tasted it once before, never wanting to experience it again.
Alphys then noticed an oddity: the number of holes in Cenna’s vicinity had increased. Anything she destroyed remained so.
“W-what’s this? The structures… are not regenerating!”
“I expected as much.” said Lucidia. “This is a great boon.”
Gaelic himself tuned out the voices. Focused on the immediate matters.
He punched down one more of those wheaty obstructions. Cried out for her name. Except the constant grind drowned out the message.
He's almost at the border. Sweet rescue close within his reach.
Another flying wall charged straight at him. Gaelic’s immediate instincts summoned a row of teeth to smash it bits.
And that was his mistake.
One moment, the chunks flew past.
The next, it regenerated -- converging around his upper torso, arms included.
Worse still, Sans had changed its material properties to concrete: embedding him into the infrastructure as a heavy stockade.
Gaelic struggled to break free using his magic. In response, multiple Grams lit up within the trap.
He knew this smothering sensation all too well. They’re magic nullifiers. The Seraphim had access to Lucidia’s handiwork and he won’t hesitate to exploit it.
Powerless, he beheld his one source of salvation drift further and further as the structure dragged him away.
“Cenna! CENNA!!!”
Did she hear?
Can she hear?
He doesn’t know.
The labyrinth built an empty cell around him. Placed him in the center of it all as the accused prisoner.
When it’s done, the tremors finally died down.
Sans teleported right before Gaelic, carrying with him the distinct smell of tomatoes, spices, salt, and vinegar.
“Finally,” he said. “I have one more reason to dislike you now. It’s a huge chase sequence whenever we meet. Too much effort.”
The predator hissed.
“…Whoah. Are you really a snake? I’m not great on my zoology, but I’m sure real snakes don’t go nuts like that. They’re cold-blooded creatures, no? You seem more like a dog to me.”
“Why the fook do ya care?” He replied.
“You’re right, I don’t. You probably got those mods just because they look fierce. Eh, whatever. Just chillax, pal.”
Sans slipped his hands into his pockets. Gaelic doesn’t like that. Not one bit. It’s the unknown.
“That expression on your face… tells me you’ve seen some of my secrets and tasted the forbidden fruit. Checked the back end of the puzzle book for answers, didn’t you? Smart. Too bad you got caught.”
The ensnared Seer grumbled. “Bloody double standard ya have there. Aye, what else could ah expect from the worst o’ city slickers?”
“‘City slicker’, huh? Let's not resort to name calling. Though I guess I can't say I expected better. See, I heard all about it. Your little love triangle. Hey, I thought I’m the sickest bone here. Yet you… You took that dynamic to the next level. More scandalous than socks.”
Sans shrugged. “Speaking of Mezil Thyme. I’m helping him too, y’know. Browsed through his records while you flew through The Void. Interesting stuff.”
The short skeleton conjured a series of holographic screens, displaying images of widespread chaos. Infrastructure burned. Lives were lost. And the Magi’s name, forever tarnished.
“That got my mental gears churning. Why didn’t he undo these damages? I’m sure it’s not because he’s lazy. He’s the Supreme Judge after all. Plenty of determination to go around.”
“Rather, the man’s got cold feet. That’s what I think. It’s a sad satire: a man who judges others shouldn’t be afraid to face his own demons. Pathetic, really.”
“Welp. Good luck to him. I’m more than prepared to face mine. ”
Gaelic gritted his teeth.
He knew exactly where and when the Seraphim intended to go.
“Heavens no. Over me pile o’ dust…!”
His bones rattled. Putting all his might into breaking free from his constraints, he yanked and tug.
A futile effort.
“Mark me words, Seraphim.” said Gaelic.
Rage exhaled in every heated breath.
“I will dig down fer ya. Dig! Dig past the bloody Barrier if ah have to! I WILL gouge out yer blasted Eye and leave ya to rot!!!”
Sans chuckled, shaking his head in pity.
“Digging past the Barrier? Really? Man, I can’t believe you have less common sense than Undyne.”
“Maybe you should save that energy for Lady Lucidia. She’s gonna need a new knight by her side. Win her heart this ‘time’, okay?”
Upon that very moment, Gaelic’s mind went red. The hunger demanded to be satiated. Sans Serif started to look like a delicious meal: served with built-in condiment from all that ketchup in his marrows.
Lucidia would talk him out of it. Except he can’t comprehend her anymore above his own howling. There’s but one objective in whatever little mental faculties remained.
It demanded he eat this offending pudgy mocker alive.
Then… a snap.
A crack.
Sans Serif’s smug grin turned downwards at the edges.
Stone crumbled and rock rolled off his being as the restraints loosened. The relief of pressure surged through his arms and lower body until a great sudden freedom spurred him into a lunge.
What followed after was a surreal blur of hungering fury.
A small hop right and another to the left. That wee pest dodged each bite by a hair’s breath.
Gaelic’s forked tongue could taste trace amounts of fearful sweat in the air. Flavourful, further whetting his insatiable appetite.
It appears that the Seraphim was nowhere near as nasty as the stereotypical slob. Ketchup, hamburgers, fries: they’re all tailored by civilization for palatability. Why should he be any less appetizing than the meals he consumed?
On the umpteenth chomp, his bare teeth sank into the Seraphim’s right arm. However, instead of chomping through delicious monster matter, he clashed against glass, steel and cloth.
Inedibles, those were the real disgusting stuff. They must be discarded. He wished to tear away more, but the prey vanished right under his nose only to reappear on the ceiling.
Doesn’t matter. There’s no place he cannot traverse.
When he commended his pursuit, chrome and iron whipped at his arms.
Chains, the most hated of all trappings. They coil around and grind against his bones. They smell of shame and defeat, yet embody the very essence of his beloved reptilian species.
More and more chains erupted from all sides, weaving over each other and making themselves stronger. The binding bundle pulled him up. Spread his limbs.
The beast screeched at his uncomfortable vulnerability.
The rush faded. Along with it, his boost of might. Gaelic’s Eye simmered down to a soft glow.
Though jittery, a semblance of sanity slowly returned. At the very least he could comprehend Lucidia’s words of concerns.
“Gaelic Blanc, compose yourself!” she commanded.
Gaelic grunted in response. Guilt strangled him just like these restraints. Time and again Mezil had warned him against losing his ‘human’ mind. Failing to do so puts him at the mercy of the cunning.
Sans rolled up his sleeve to inspect his gadget for any damages. Wiped off the saliva while he’s at it. Moisture and electronics often don’t mix.
His secret weapon was an electronic bracer written in the runes of Seerkind. It had a screen to manage the details, a sheath hiding a blade, and… the face of a pocket watch.
Satisfied of its integrity, Sans let his tattered sleeve drop back in place.
“Okay buddy. Guess you’re the real thing after all. Maybe it’s best if you just ‘hang’ in there for everyone’s safety. Don’t go ‘snaking’ away, k?”
“Phew, at least the hard part is done,” he said. “All I need to do next is to deal with Miss Demon Hunter. She should be cake.”
Curious, the snake aficionado tilted his head to the side.
“…Cenna? Cake? Oy, did ah hear that right?”
“Yup. Fought her in many timelines. Can more or less predict her patterns.”
“Heh, ya ever look up the history behind her true surname?”
“Wanderstar?” Sans replied. “I thought it’s kinda weird. Certainly unique enough for it to become a brand name in the Vanquisher field.”
“And nothin’ more?”
Sans couldn’t answer.
The trapped one laughed to his heart’s content. How the tables had turned. Or perhaps fortune had always been in their favour.
“Praise be to God Almighty!” hollered Gaelic. “Ordainer o’ the past, present, and future! Ye blinded the false angel from thy wisdom! O’ blessed be! Let this fiend fall in wretched ignorance!”
“Excuse me--?”
The Seraphim’s Eye flared on its own. The screen came alive with a spur of activity, and an Arcanagram spread over Sans’ left iris.
“Welp. Papyrus is awake. Got no time to play with ya.”
Sans vanished in that instant.
Soon after, the sound system clicked on. Looks like the short skeleton didn’t want to leave without a final say.
“Y’know, scaly-ton…” he said. “Both of us are kinda similar in retrospect. Me, Paps and Tori. You, Mezil and Lucidia. Thanks for the ‘education’. Helped set me on the right track.”
“Wonder who’s the better zealot for our ‘gods’, eh?”
Another click, ending in pin-drop silence.
Alone in his predicament, whatever bravado Gaelic had put up was washed away by self-resentment. Gaelic wept over his perceived failure.
“I’m sorry, M’lady.” He sobbed in tears of purple. “Screwed it all up. What good is a trapped Tracker? Ah cannae be yer eyes and ears…”
Lucidia kept her tone gentle. ”Gaelic. I have seen Sans Serif’s gear up-close and personal. …Pun not intended.”
“It’s called the ‘Seraph System’. It’s a combination of several components. One: a condensed DT Extraction machine in the form of a Mark. Unlike contemporary methods, this permits prolonged operation at long distance.”
“Two: a False Aspect manager. By fuelling fakes with Determination, Sans applies ‘lenses’ that change the functions of the Seer’s Eye. That’s the Arcanagram over his iris.”
“Three: a battery. He had pilfered the Trap Harvester to expand his capacity to infinity. Without it, he can’t claim my husband’s world in full.”
The new information did little to soothe Gaelic’s heart. It made him cry harder.
Alphys failed to put her thoughts to words. After a few false starts, she said: “I-I think… Lady Lucidia is trying to say that it’s not a complete loss.”
“Yes.” she replied. “She’s right. I see few advancements that can’t be derived from a tech trade between Ebott and the Magi. This leads me to believe the Seraph System can be recreated in the future.”
“As for Sans himself… He can be dealt with, if necessary.”
A blast from the front wall interrupted the conversation. A lady in a trenchcoat strut right in.
“Yo~” Cenna waved. “You’re a sight for sore eyes! Man. When the maze went nuts, I thought he’s gonna dust you for sure.”
Gaelic hung his head low. Still weeping.
“Uh… Guess the assassino got more than one way to stab a person where it counts.” Cenna summoned her drones. “I better get you down first.”
She weaved their threads around the target. Can’t have her partner falling flat on his face.
Once he’s secured, Yellow feathers pierced the chains. After a series of small blasts, the bindings lost the Determination that held them together; they dissolved into the void.
“Ah let that scoundrel get the better o’ me,” said Gaelic, back on the ground and on his feet. “Some partner I am. In all me life, ah keep messing things up…”
Cenna pulled him in for a warm hug. “Don’t say that, Gael. You did great. Bet you found something important too. Otherwise, our short skelly wouldn't be tearing the place apart to trap ya. So, chin up! I’m sure Mez would give ya the same praise if he’s here.”
“…Ya think?”
“Yeah! Sooooo what are we waiting for?”
That’s right. This would be his chance for redemption.
Gaelic let go of her. Took in some few breaths to re-orient himself back to a more professional mindset.
“Sans be directing everyone to his inner sanctum.” He explained. “Well, everyone who passed his test. Saw our beloved Cinnamon Roll down there too.”
“Oh really? Update me along the way. Saves time.”
She walked towards the exit. Gaelic tried to follow her, but he staggered. Good thing she managed to catch him in time.
“Whoa, steady there! You look beyond beat.”
“Aye,” he replied. “Ah had a wild ride. Took a huge chunk outta me.”
Cenna wasted no time to crouch and show her back, beckoning him to piggyback.
“Up ya go,” she said. “You be my eyes, and I’ll be your feet! No objections!”
“You skelly people are super light compared to humans anyway.”