‘Find a way to read the true intents of others’.
That was your advice. A good place to start. You know how Sans and subtexts go too well together.
Upon the recommendation of your new teacher, you requested Lady Lucidia’s aid.
At first, you thought that you’re going to sit the tram all the way back to the Hub… but Lady Lucidia thought it’s better to visit you in person: right in the Judge’s resting chamber.
Not going to show you her awesome high-tech basement, eh?
Lady Lucidia replied: “Redundant action. Records state I had requested assistance from Doctor Alphys in a previous timeline. May I have your phone?”
Aha, the Mew Mew Kissy Cute Arcanagram writing tool! Thank goodness the data wasn’t damaged from your untimely drop.
So… uhm… What does she intend to do?
“I shall make the necessary adjustments via Code Injection.”
Injection…?
Lady Lucidia nodded. “Manual input can be tedious, slower, with a high chance of error. I prefer to use magic whenever possible.”
Seers can do that?
“Negative. I’m more attuned to machines than others. Sans Serif may be able to match me… but I wouldn’t recommend Gaelic to perform the same, despite sharing the Perseverance trait.”
Yeah… He might end up destroying said object, knowing him.
She chuckled along with you. It’s nice to see that she’s not a cold, calculating robot, contrary to her speech patterns.
Alright. You passed the device to Lady Lucidia, confident it's in good hands.
“Initiating input,” she said.
A fan of thin, delicate bones appeared over her head, so fine that you could mistake them for needles.
With them, Lady Lucidia pierced your phone with a thousand strikes.
Okay, that was an exaggeration. It’s not really a thousand. More like a hundred or so. They fly by too fast to count.
Also, they didn’t leave any holes. The procedure was to inject Code into your device: nothing to do with turning it into a pincushion. After all, Lady Lucidia would never ever intentionally do something like damage one of your possessions.
Hang on. Needles? Snakeface once mentioned that Lady Lucidia ‘weaves’ her repairs! Are those claims true? Was the needle magic part of it?
“Oh?” replied Lady Lucidia. “No. The needles have nothing to do with the weavings. Do you… want to see it?”
Your face brightened up in an instant. Of course!
The lady suspended your phone between the palms of her hands. And then… then… cleaved it to bits. Yes. Cleaved. Split. Chopped by an invisible cleaver.
Your jaw dropped on the floor.
YOUR PHONE! YOUR PRECIOUS PHONE!
PANIC MODE ON!!
Wait, it’s a digital recreation.
NO!!! YOU STILL NEED IT FOR YOUR JOB!!!
YOU REPEAT: PANIC MODE ON!!!
You’re not sure whether or not to be horrified or bewildered. S-she… she just destroyed your phone with nothing but Blue Magic!
How strong is she anyway?! Even if Papyrus had super-strength from his Orange, he still needed some kind of a tool to wreck an object! Lady Lucidia just did it with PURE CONCENTRATED FORCE!
Seriously. How is she weak? Is anyone actually sure that she can’t fight?!?
She giggled at your flabbergasted reaction. “Watch now, Crimson Keeper.”
A simple pentagram formed under the pieces. She then burned her colours bright. Two Mixed Eyes, huh? What a combo.
Look close enough, and you could definitely see fine threads drawing the cleaved parts together. Bit by bit, matter began to meld at the seams, making the gaps thinner and thinner until your device reformed into a single solid piece.
“Please hold down the power button.”
Per her instruction, you booted the device as soon as possible. Lo and behold, it works!
“Now give the update a test run.”
Running the newly installed Gram activated your phone’s camera. It made an overlay that allowed you to read the most prominent colours of someone's SOUL, and their general emotion.
You tried it on Lady Lucidia first. At the moment, she radiated a glow of emerald green.
Her Determination meter was bright and glowing. She looks happy, proud of her weaving skill.
H-how does she do that?!
“Blue, to gather. Green, to restore. Purple, to understand. I mend things at a molecular level. As such, my ability to repair is proportional to my understanding of the material.”
Awesooooooooome!
“However,” she cautioned. “I have certain limitations. Example: if the destroyed object has missing components, I cannot repair it. Had Sans Serif’s Karma consumed your phone, a certain percentage of material would have been lost to the wind, requiring additional substrate for reconstruction.”
“I am also unable to mend living organisms created from physical matter. My magic would be recognized as a foreign intrusion, and therefore rejected.”
Odd. Wasn’t it a form of Green Magic? Kindness has healed you no problem in the past. It worked just fine! So what gives? How are monsters any different?
“Throughout your adventure, only your Psychia sustained damage. Magic restores it without issues. It’s a different matter had you suffered bodily harm. As for your other question… what do you know about monster constitution?”
Hmm. They’re weak to physical damage, but they heal much easier. Almost instant! Just a bunch of good food and bam, it’s back to normal.
Lucidia frowned. “I’m afraid your information is outdated. The bodies of monsters are in truth projections of their Psychia. Think of them as a magical substrate that mimics physical materials based on an individual’s unique blueprint. In layman terms, while their composition is ‘looser’ than organic matter, it’s erroneous to say that they’re weak to physical force. Rather, monsters are vulnerable to factors that disrupt this bond.”
Like, Determination?
“Accurate. The physical resistance of a monster is identical to the matter they replicate. In a world of firearms, there’s no difference between a human-like monster and human. All will be obliterated by the force of physics.”
Grim mentions there, Lady.
You rubbed your chin. Does that mean that Undyne would be made up of imitation-fish material?
“Keratinous matter, yes.”
Then a rock monster would be… silicon?
“Accurate. Therefore, a skeleton such as myself would also be made up mostly of osseous components. This relative adaptability is the same reason why monsters mend better than humans. As long as a body part isn’t lost completely, and the integrity of the Psychia remains intact, restoration will be close to perfect. Humans instead… endure scar tissue even with the best medical care.”
Cool! Is that why the robot eye works for Undyne?
“Affirmative. Undyne accepts prosthetics without issues due to the fact that her Psychia still remembers her lost eye. It will accept any suitable replacement of magical nature. How unfortunate that a functioning ocular implant requires some cybernetics. The Dreemurr’s medical standards are a bit…”
“…Lacking.” Her expression chilled to one of bitter ice.
You crossed your arm and pondered. Then what about Sans dead arm?
“Sans Serif’s Psychia no longer registers the existence of a right arm. The Determination explosion destroyed the connection between body and SOUL.”
…………………………………
“Your expression tells me you are quite shocked by the news. Query: do you still care about Sans Serif?”
You nodded.
“Even now that he’s your enemy?”
You scrunched your brow, puzzled. Your relationship has become complicated, but calling him your ‘enemy’ was too much of a stretch. Besides, you wouldn’t have befriended the monsters if you treated everyone with enmity over their past transgressions.
“He just destroyed your reputation in court. Do you not resent that?”
You… you don’t know if you have the right to do so.
“Perhaps things would have turned out differently if we approached you sooner. In your first loop, for example. Sans Serif’s ‘Links’ wouldn’t have been so strong, and suspicions alleviated. Alas, we missed the opportunity…”
Your phone registered a huge dip in Determination. Her sadness was as plain as light anyway. You didn’t need a fancy gadget for something that obvious.
You asked her if she needed a chat.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“No.” Lady Lucidia looked away. “I think you should return to your friends.”
Your phone’s interface changed accordingly. Her glow turned purple, and your phone informed you that she’s being avoidant. It matched your hunch.
What to do, what to do… Maybe she needs a change of pace?
You invited her to join the meeting.
“Declined,” she said, “I let Sans Serif use my interface. I expect much ire against my thoughtless actions.”
It’s not going to be as bad as she thinks. Court is all about the truth, right? You’re sure that the rest will understand.
An unstable mixture of blue and purple soon filled your screen. Her DT levels: brooding dark. Lady Lucidia tried her best not to show it, but she’s aggravated by your insistence.
Hmm. She’s the reverse of Tsunderjudge apparently. He tends to start with ‘no’, but relent once you convince him. Lucidia instead further backs into her shell.
You promise her you won’t press the issue. And reminded her she has your number, just in case she changes her mind.
Relieved that her space was respected, she said: “Thank you.”
You exited the Judge’s chamber, looking at a fork in the road. Going left would take you to the Prosecution, while the right path would take you to the Barrister.
Decisions, decisions. You wondered if you should peek on Sans.
Curiosity got the better of you. So, went right towards the Barrister.
It’s quiet there. You mustered all your wannabe-ninja skills to open the door ever so slightly.
He’s sleeping, as expected. Well… it may be for the best, since you won’t be tempted to pry deeper.
You let him get his snooze and went back to the Prosecution.
Oh? Doctor Gaster was outside. He’s facing a floating screen, speaking to someone.
Distress must be the mood of the hour. The goopdoc exclaimed: “W-what do you mean that the feast is destined to fail?!”
On the other line, Papyrus replied: “MY ESTEEMED GUEST REFUSES TO TRUST THE GREAT PAPYRUS. WITHOUT IT, THE ARATET WELCOMING FEAST IS A BUST.”
“BUT FEAR NOT!!! THAT DOESN’T MEAN THAT I CANNOT COOK A FEAST TO WELCOME THEM! WATCH ME, UNCLE GASTER: I SHALL TURN THE TABLES WITH MY IMPRESSIVE CULINARY ARTS!”
“If only we could be there to help you, Papyrus.” Gaster then grumbled, “Sans just had to-- argh! It drives me mad just thinking about it.”
“IT’S FINE. I HAVE ALL THE RESEARCH MATERIALS I NEED, NYEH HEH HEH! I’LL GO NOW, UNCLE GASTER.”
“Good luck, my boy.”
Transmission, end. He let out a huge sigh.
You walked up to Doctor Gaster. Looks like another plan is crumbling apart. Then again, it was a trap to begin with.
“You knew about this, Child of Mercy?”
You nodded. Persona explained it to you. It’s something that needs two parties to work. Missing a key ingredient, so to speak. We’ll just have to try against all odds.
“More diplomatic problems,” Gaster grumbled. “Why does Judge Thyme have to make everything so difficult?! Can’t we resolve Sans’ drama after ridding the world of that gigantic briny pest first? Hmph. The world of science is a much simpler world. How I prefer it.”
…Hmm. He does have a point. Why now? We’d have all the time after the mayhem. Provided reality itself survives the conflict in the first place.
With great concern on his face, Doctor Gaster said: “I suggest that we keep mum about the bad news first. The Prosecution is suffering from some… ethically emotional dilemmas at this very moment. Judge Thyme went ahead of you to restore the memories of those doomed court sessions.”
Oh. Right. That.
Goopdoc wasn’t kidding when he mentioned ‘dilemmas’. It’s worse than Megalovania. When you peeked into the room you noticed how your crew separated into clusters.
You lifted your phone to get a general read.
Mettaton, being his fabulous self. He seems to be chilling alone. And thinking, maybe? He’s… hot pink? Uhh… That isn’t even a SOUL colour. You dismissed it as ‘Mettaton’ for now.
Undyne sat on the couch, curling forward while clutching her head: stressed beyond belief. Alphys sat by her side, trying her best to support her despite the awkward silence.
Shit. Undyne’s glowing purple. You were expecting yellow. Not purple. Never purple.
Mom meanwhile occupied a single armchair, painting a picture as morose as the rich blue aura around her.
Dad huddled at a corner. He’s keeping himself occupied by boiling a kettle of water for tea… with himself as the stove. He’s glowing in faint white: zero stats in every colour of the spectrum. Zoned out. Zombie mode.
As for Gerson? Gerson remained Gerson, ever patient, as evident by the cyan glow. Also, too busy watching over Dad to show much of anything else.
Grillby on the other hand had the face of a soldier who came back from a losing battle, betrayed by luck and inefficiency of command. He’s dark… red?
Red?! Fffffffffffffffffffu--
You can’t believe that you’re in a situation worse than Megalovania. Back then a smidgen of hope existed because hearts united to a single goal. Here? It’s burdened with confusion. Divided. Almost everyone is in the wrong colour.
When they noticed your presence, all heads turned towards you.
Gulp.
You pocketed your phone posthaste. It’s rude to have that out. As much as you want to continue testing your newfangled app, you don’t want to cause further misunderstandings.
Besides, you’re long overdue for a sincere public apology. How could you express one, though? Bow anime style 90 degrees? Get on your knees with your forehead on the ground? No, you’re not in the right country for all that.
You thus walked into the prosecution’s chamber with your head lowered. Butterflies fluttered in your twisting stomach and cold sweat dampened your neck.
In deep regret, you told everyone that you’re sorry from the bottom of your heart.
No response. You expected that. It’ll take a while for the facts to sink in.
Then, Mettaton said: “Apology accepted, darling. At least from yours truly. Honey, you know how much I love humans. Including their ability to deny flattery! Horrendous or not, I respect that trait.”
Thanks…?
“Not so fast, dear.” he motioned his hands to the others. “You have their thoughts to address too.”
You resisted a nervous chuckle, although you’re sure he spotted the signs.
Undyne was the first to speak her mind. She had a few false starts, then sank back into her darkness. “…I’m so weak,” she muttered, “I couldn’t stop you…Dammit! What kind of a best friend am I?!?”
In other words… Undyne was more frustrated about herself than you.
You’re afraid to face Mom. But you must. So that’s what you did.
“My child,” said Mom. “I share a similar sentiment to Undyne. It appears that I have failed as a mother yet again.”
You asked if she’s disappointed in you.
“Well… you did learn from your mistakes, and you handled yourself well in the Crimson Hall. But I would be lying if I said I’m without doubt. As Ambassador and Crimson Keeper, you could face worse situations. What desperate decisions would you make then? Will you return to those dark thoughts? With these questions unanswered, it seems that even Judge Thyme is pressured by circumstance to accept you. That’s not a good thing.”
You agreed with Mom. You told her that you expected to fail back then. At the least become suppressed as a student until you’re an adult. Time-travel years or not, you have no experience.
“I’m glad you’re mature enough to admit so.”
You asked if Dad is alright. He seems. Um. Out of it?
Mom shook her head. “Leave him be. He… needs time.”
Gerson nodded at you in silence. Yep. You agree to let Dad be.
Only Grillby left. Or rather, Sir Grillbz Grillenn: former Captain of the Royal Guard. Not your local friendly bartender of grease, but a Champion among Champions.
He stood up and confronted you.
Sweating intensified. You never realised how intimidating he looks without his glasses. They did a great job softening his face.
So he asked: “…Do you believe your own philosophy of mercy?…”
You answered yes. Grillby was not convinced. You expected as much.
“…Lady Lucidia was ready to massacre the Gungnir… She softened her heart… because of my faith in you…”
That’s good. Right?
The ends of his flames flickered. “…I question if it’s misplaced…”
You reassure Grillby that the past is the past. You won’t do it again. Never ever--
He raised his palm, stopping your words. “…No rash promises… There may come a day where rehabilitation is impossible…”
Killing someone isn’t a joke! You believe in mercy cause you’ve seen the alternative. Lived it! You don’t want anyone else to be haunted by that kind of burden.
“…Too late… I had already killed someone a long time ago… A human about your age… Done in the name of freedom…”
You had heard stories, but this was the first time you had a direct confession. It does explain his current bitterness.
“…The ideal remains an ideal in the end…”
Someone slammed the table. Looking back, you spotted an Undyne that’s back to her passionate self. You bet she's burning in bright Orange or Yellow.
The fish yelled. “Goddamit, Grillby, you sound just like that bonehead! Yeah, they were bad in an old timeline. SO WHAT??? They’re not bad anymore!!!”
“Consider this!” she said, slapping her chest. “If life went differently for ME, I would’ve become a crappy dictator and ruined the whole nation with my stupid ideals of revenge!”
“The same goes for everyone in this room. We’ve all made mistakes. So YEAH, Frisk has plenty of reasons to shun us too, yet they didn’t. So why the hell are we so harsh on them???”
Undyne…
You couldn’t quite believe your ears. You expected such a speech from Papyrus, not from her. Her passion has touched you.
Alphys mustered her courage to back her girlfriend. “S-she’s right! Frisk had enough reasons to not befriend us. Yet, they did so again and again. T-that should be a testament of their character!”
“Darling dearest,” said Mettaton. “You’re aware that Sansy will use the same argument against us, right? The line of argument would be something like, ‘If we can forgive Frisk based on circumstance, why not the defendant’?”
“That’s different!” Undyne retorted. “His past actions weren’t erased. Heck, they're not even rectified! He’s still pulling the same crap on us right now, in the same damn timeline!”
“My dear rambunctious fish, there’s a reason why I plea my case as I did! He’ll just spin the case with the excuse that we’re not sparing him the opportunity.”
Huffing out loud, she chided: “Which is exactly why that went super horrible. We’re in this pickle because of you!”
Mettaton furrowed his brows and flipped his bang. “Ugh darling, I have enough of your noise.”
“Says the guy who wanted to STEAL King Asgore’s target on live TV!”
This is getting out of hand. You thought maybe it’s time to step in. However, Mom was faster than you.
Queen Toriel in all her Queeness called for order. “Enough. You’re being played like a trombone and you don’t even realise it.”
The two stopped arguing, but you can still see the fumes between them. They’re not the most compatible bunch.
Grillby returned to you. “…Frisk… Please respect your own ideal… If you don’t, no one will…”
You nodded back to him. That’s the plan.
Wow. This day has no breaks for you. First, Tsunderjudge. Now, Sir Bartender. Visiting Grillby’s would never be the same again.
Attention returned to the mission at hand. Dad had recovered enough to serve everyone his ‘self’-brewed tea, although you doubt it would be consumed. No one had the appetite for anything.
You asked the big question in a quiet tone: who’s going to be the prosecutor anyway?
Undyne groaned. “I dunno. I’m a bad pick. And Mettaton led to another dead end.”
The glambot posed with confidence. “I could change my line of argument, darling. I’m as flexible as my arms.”
“But you’re still gonna be Mettaton. You wanna risk Sans throwing another wrench at you?”
“Hmmmm.” Then, his face lit up with an idea. “If we’re going to be throwing wrenches at each other, might as well do it in style! How about it, darling Alphys? The most unexpected twist!”
You watched your lizard friend seize up. She’s so frozen, she might as well be a block of ice.
Alphys exclaimed. “N-n-n-no! Muri! Muri-desu! S-S-S-Sans will never let me go over the wh-whole Lab disaster. O-or anything about my life!”
You hate to say this but, Alphys would just become a sitting duck at Sans’ wiles.
Dad… Nevermind. It’s the same deal, different skin. Sans already roasted him multiple times.
What about Mom? She has a good head on her shoulders. Her experience as a Queen helps too.
Shaking her head, Mom said: “I’m sorry, my child. I’m not sure how to respond to him yet. He… did keep his promises by technicality.”
Darn. You considered begging her to stand. Maybe pitch favours: be a good kid, do certain tasks, or whatever. Anything to get Mom’s help. It’s rather manipulative, but what choice do you have?
“…I will be the Prosecutor…”
The resulting silence was so intense, you could hear a pin drop.
NANI?!?!?!
Grillby?!?! The guy who needed Mister Red Bird to speak in his stead is going to prosecute Sans, your rival for the smoothest talker in the Dreemurr Nation?!?!
“…My silence towards you was a precaution… The less I speak, the safer…”
Jaw, drop. He… he actually thought that through? Then why did he evacuate with the other monsters when, um, ‘incidents’ happened?!?
“…Evacuees need guardians… Captain Undyne was more than enough for the front lines…”
An excuse, or strategic thinking? Hmmmmmmm.
Doctor Gaster huffed. “Quit that snide nonsense. His early retirement from the Royal Guard was such a tremendous loss for a reason. You youngsters have no idea.”
“However!” he continued. “There is one minor problem, friend. Your voice. It never quite healed. Are you sure you can take the strain? I imagine the defense will jump on your weakness without hesitation.”
The fire elemental rubbed his throat. “…I’ll deal with it…”
…Why not ask Lady Lucidia? You had seen what she could do! You explained to Grillby how she cleaved your phone into quarters, and put it back together without a single scratch.
Grillby expressed interest in your proposal. “…She had treated me before, but never so extensively… Maybe there’s something she could do…”
With eyes wide open, Alphys commented: “I’m sooooooooo glad she didn’t vent her anger at me.”
Mom pushed herself off the seat. Her action caught everyone’s attention, stopping the chatter in an instant.
She said: “If that is the case, I shall defend Sans.”
You gasped. The outrage levels of the room spiked. Most of it came from Undyne.
“What the hell,” yelled the fish. “You can’t do this, Toriel!!!”
“I can and I will.” Mom said. “You wanted a change, do you not? Making sure that Sans doesn’t do the talking should give you an edge, and keep the peace.”
Good point there. But… but… Mom is a super tough cookie. You’re not sure who’s worse.
With a soft chuckle, she replied: “Be more confident, Frisk. You’re not our Ambassador for nothing.”
Mom hugged you with her warm, soft arms. You returned it with a snuggle.
“I’ll be going now, my child. Do your best.”
Yes, Mom.
And so, Queen Toriel went over to the Barrister’s side. Dang. At least the prosecution will have the advantage of knowing their next opponent.
Sorta.
You asked Grillby if he’s anxious, maybe even afraid of what’s to come?
His reply? “…I have no fear against a ‘sober’ Toriel…”
That. That was the coolest and funniest declaration rolled together in one.