On the forested side of Mount Ebott, a short man sat perched on a branch with a telescope in hand. He spied at the battlefield from high up there.
Muttering to himself, he said: “…Something’s wrong. There’s no dust, no bone.”
The telescope shifted from the meadows to the town square. There was a moment of uncertain silence. Frisk was on the phone contacting someone, most likely a Magus.
There was a slight twitch on their brows. Their lips tightened, like they’re trying to suppress a gasp. So subtle, yet so noticeable.
After a while, they ended the call. Their posture straightened. Then, they raised their fist to the air, declaring victory. The whole town square burst into cheer.
A floating spirit commented: “WHAT JOYOUS JUBILANCE I HEAR! ISN’T IT WONDERFUL?”
“Yup,” the watcher replied, “It’s great. But…”
Armed unknown humans had begun to scatter around the less crowded zones of Ebott Town… yet they were not taking any action.
The watcher lowered his telescope. “…We’re not out of the ‘woods’ yet.”
Frisk’s claim kicked its punishment, like a boot to the heart. Yet the sting had started to become strangely rewarding: a sign of acknowledgement in a twisted way.
“Oof, that was pretty intense.”
“SAAAAAAAAANS! THIS IS NO TIME FOR FORESTRY PUNS! IT IS BAD FOR YOUR SOUL!”
“Heh. Nothing like a little joke before the serious business.”
One quick thought later, the watcher had cut through spacetime to his next destination: the school cafeteria.
It’s dark from the power outage. An expected outcome. That town defense plan didn’t look Core-friendly. Something must have burnt out deep in the mountains. It won’t come back online soon.
Despite the darkness, his sudden presence alerted a fire elemental and a lady skeleton. The woman -- startled and wary -- hid behind her flaming bodyguard.
Sans winced from the sight. He tilted his head downwards. Had the cap cut out some extra light.
I can’t look straight at him anymore. Blurry light is terrible. I can’t… can’t scan him either… I’m receiving garbled data. Missing pieces. Distortions.
Good, good. This is what I want.
“…Sans!…” Grillby seethed, “…Why are you here?…”
They treated him as an unwelcome presence. But that’s fine, socializing wasn’t his objective.
Sans teleported closer forward, making sure to stay just out of arm’s reach. Lifting his telescope for the two of them to see, he said: “I have a hunch that our sniper gal actually escaped. Observation and so on.”
Their body language spoke volumes. From the way they behaved, they had already received the same bad news.
“Right. I’ll get to the point then: we’re gonna have to ambush the ambusher. And I need everyone to work together.”
“…Stop right there…” The fire elemental showed his hand. “…Give us a reason… why we should trust you…”
Reason?
What reason could that even be?
Ah, Sans Serif had burned too many bridges. Reasons would be hard to come by. Harder still to press in an emergency.
If there was a reason to trust him, it would be this: “Because I know more about you and your powers than you know yourself. When we were enemies, you guys gave it your all against me. That knowledge will be beneficial to your cause.”
“…Are those the words of a madman?… Or a liar?…”
“Eh, hold onto that thought for a little bit.”
Sans dug into his pocket, pulling out a fuzzy silver-haired leaf and two blue flowers. “I brought Snakeface a gift of Silvermane. Where is he anyway?”
From her protector’s back, the lady answered: “Stationed on the school roof for sentry duty. He’s on the lookout for the escapee.”
“Good. Pass these onto him. Thought his poison-generating speciality will come in handy.”
It was then that Lady Lucidia stopped hiding, mentally and physically. She stepped out of Grillby’s shadow and took on a more professional stance.
She responded in her distinct robotic manner. “An excellent proposal. Part of the plan did consider sending him ahead to Queen Toriel’s house to recharge his poisons. Your contribution will save us precious time.”
“Heh, what can I say? Great minds think alike.” Wink, wink.
But… again, he was shot down by her sharp tongue. “Error, input denied. The entity you mock as ‘Snakeface’ was the one who originally proposed this idea. Consider revising your biases.”
“Wow. Always on point, eh? But yeah, I getcha. He’s smarter than he looks.”
Silvermane, transferred. Lucidia kept the herb safely cupped in between her hands.
“Part one’s a wrap.” Sans snapped the fingers of his working hand, then pointed to Grillby. “And part two is you.”
“Y’know, back in Megalovania -- when you had an army of fire at your disposal -- I noticed that I could never really focus my Eye on you. You’re like a constant blur. A distortion. It’s so hard to land a decisive blow. All I could do was dodge and flee. That… didn’t work out so well. So, let me ask you: have you ever tried to ‘eat’ The Fire of Humanity before?”
“……………What?…”
Sans didn’t need to look at him to know that Grillby was skeptical. His tone of voice exuded disbelief.
“Whether you realise it or not, you’re ‘eating’ my sight right now.”
“…That’s absurd… Please leave… There’s no time for you and your nonsense… Lady Lucidia… Please tell him we still have a defense to uphold… ”
Lady Lucidia instead replied, “Apologies. I want to listen to his hypothesis.”
Wink. “Nice to have someone with an open mind here, doncha think?”
“…Hmph…” Grillby just glared back.
“Alright,” Sans resumed, “So, the more Marks I observe, the more I realise that their powers are tied to concepts. Frisk’s star is more than just a star. Rather, it’s the symbol of a wish. Hopes and dreams personified. That’s why it can turn into any Aspect of human magic.”
“Judge Thyme? It’s even more obvious. Metamorphosis. Life and Death. Rebirth. A symbol of immortality. As well as the eponymous ‘Butterfly Effect’. Time ceases to be linear when that bug flaps its wings.”
“Then there’s my Seraph, Persona’s lightning, Kisei’s king piece. The list goes on. Each of them can be thought of as a representation of their invoked will.”
“So, what does this say about our friendly fire, who’s also fuelled by Determination? Fire Eaters claim fire as their own power, sure. But how do they distinguish between fire and not-fire? Where do they draw the line? And that right there is the biggest piece of the puzzle. If Grillby can perceive a Seer’s Eye as literal fire and absorb it, that Seer is effectively blinded in the scope of spacetime.”
Amazed yet unsure, Grillby asked: “…Is this true, Lady Lucidia?…”
The Lady was hesitant at first, but then she replied. “I see no error in Sans Serif’s observations. However, he has yet to explain his current plan.”
“Well, first and foremost, Lil’ Miss Lucy’s gotta be the bait.”
Two seconds of shocked disbelief later, her guardian slammed his hand down on the side of the barricade. “…YOU!!!--”
Overstraining his scarred voice box, Grillby started coughing, wheezing, and hacking. Good thing his ward had Green as part of her key colour set. She did her best to control the minor ‘medical complication’.
“Welp. I expected that kind of reaction.”
“SAAAAAAAAAAAANS WHERE ARE YOUR MANNERS? YOU CAN’T JUST DROP THE BOMB AND EXPECT EVERYONE TO LISTEN!”
Sigh Papyrus, that’s why I don’t bother explaining stuff to them. It’s really tiring. Maybe I should have stuck with the old plan.
“NO! YOU PROMISED TO WORK WITH OTHERS. BE PATIENT WITH THEM. DID YOU NOT SEE? THE FAIRY GODMOTHER IS STILL LENDING YOU HER EAR.”
Indeed, she did not chase him away. She maintained her attention, expecting to hear more.
Sans thought he should give it another try.
“Look,” he began, “The old me would have gone behind your back to snatch the lady without prior discussion. You’d then alert Snakeface, and the both of you would chase her down. Meanwhile, I would turn our princess here into a carrot on a stick, baiting the enemy in circles until you save the day. And I’d probably kill the killer sniper gal too, just to make sure we live to see the next sunrise.”
“But I’m not gonna do that. It’s messy, it’s risky, and it’s one hundred percent Papyrus-disapproved. I’m trying to change here. Give me a chance, will ya?”
Doubt and uncertainty still lingered. Sans wondered if he had ever felt this impatient before. Was urgency biting him in the heel? Or was this the effect of his Overburn?
Just when he was about to give up, the sapphire lady spoke:
“I will accept your proposal. Under one condition.”
An answer at last. “Go ahead.”
“You will disclose every angle of your plan. Including contingencies.”
How relieved he was to hear that. “Can do. Can do. Alright… First, we’ll need to change the setup of our defense formation.”
Pointing to the barricade of sideways tables, he added: “Put half of that aside. Just enough to make her think you tried your best to defend Lil’ Miss Lucy. A false sense of security goes a long way. ”
Finally recovered enough to speak, Grillby asked: “…What if someone else attacks us…?”
“Oh, those human hitmen?” Sans fanned the thought away. “They’re busy with the kiddo. They have the Keys of Fate, so their safety is pretty much guaranteed.”
“…True… any mishap on their end… will be undone…” said Grillby, “If that’s the case… We should return most of the tables… to their original positions… And leave one wall around Lady Lucidia…”
“Ayup, sounds good. Second, Grillbz Grillenn will have to blind our danger-gal by ‘eating’ the fire of her Seer’s Eye. Clairvoyants are limited by their path of sight. An action that blinds The Eye will also blind their perception of the future. Extinguishing should do the trick.”
“Third, Snakeface. Since portals will definitely be used, he won’t be able to see her coming from the outside. Instead, have the walking chem lab team up with Grillby. Poison and fire? Excellent combination.”
“To the left is the exit to the playground. That’s a great spot for Grillby to lay in wait with Snakeface. After all, the closest portal will make our gal walk in from the hallway. This way they won’t run into each other by accident.”
“Fourth, our princess here is far from a damsel in distress. Once we spring the trap, she can back me up with her defensive magic. Shields, cables, gravity, anything goes. However, since we don’t want to make our setup too obvious, no exit should ever be completely blocked.”
“Last but not least, I’ll destroy her gas mask. That thing has to go. Not only is it super duper anti-poison equipment, it’s also protecting her Eye. Don’t take any action until it’s gone. The plan’s a bust if she sees you. Keep your ears open for my signal. It will be ‘doodoo--’.”
“Engage,” Lady Lucidia insisted. “Just say ‘Engage’. Your juvenile suggestion is needless and confusing.”
“Okay, okay, whatever you want. So, what do you think?”
Lady Lucidia nodded. “Conclusion: I find no error in this plan as is. However… everything will depend on the execution. What about the contingencies?”
“If anything goes wrong, you will have to hide in the kitchen. Lock yourself in there with the best barrier magic you can cast. And if our danger-gal is going to transform again, I will teleport her out to the playground. Really don’t want to push her deeper into the school.”
Grillby sounded concerned. “…Any other backup plans?…”
“Sorry man,” Sans shook his head. “I’d love to build some elaborate Sealing Gram outside, but time’s not on our side. The best we can do is to keep trouble away from Lady Lucy so she can call for help.”
Though reluctant, Grillby nodded. “…Understood… Is that alright with you, Lady Lucidia?…
She replied, “Affirmative. Contingencies accepted.”
“Perfect.” Sans wiped his forehead, relieved. A huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. “Better hurry, though. ‘Cause she’s gonna show up anytime soon.”
His suggestions were immediately put into action. Grillby started rearranging the furniture, while Lady Lucidia passed her instructions to Gaelic. After her job was done, she used her Blue Magic to help the elemental speed things up.
“SEE? DIDN’T I TELL YOU? BE NICE TO OTHERS, AND THEY’LL BE NICE TO YOU! COLLABORATIVE TEAMWORK IS THE BESTEST, NYEH HEH HEH!”
Yeah bro, I getcha. You’re right after all. Don’t have to rub it in, heh.
After the benches and tables were set, Lady Lucidia tucked the herb into Grillby’s pocket. He then left for the playground area.
Lady Lucidia took her position as bait. With everyone now settled down at their designations, Sans crouched behind the barricades.
From there… it’s all about the wait.
Before long, lightning flashed through the dark. Thunder cracked and rumbled. What a spooky stormy evening. It wasn’t so in the past timelines. Perhaps the ‘Kaiju’ fiasco had charged the area with currents? Or maybe Aiden saw fit to change a normal rain into a lightning parade?
Sans focused his senses. Ignore the noise of nature. Let it fade into the background. He kept his ears open only for signs of intrusion.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until now he had heard nothing. But then the hallway door opened. The hinges creaked as it fell back to its original position.
Wet footsteps squelched in the darkness.
He heard the enemy’s breaths. It’s long, raspy, and hollow…
She’s clearly exhausted from her dance with the vampire. Running on fumes. Sans thought. She won’t be able to fight at her best. Call it our lucky break.
But then Lucidia froze. She tried her best to not move an inch, keeping her hand well under the barricade’s line to sign the following letters to Sans:
‘I-N-V-I-S-I-B-L-E’
Invisibility?! Wait a moment here. That Garamond fellow… What were his colours again? Cyan, Yellow, Pure Eyes, Dichromatic. Do all Cyan and Yellow combinations result in the same power? No damn way. I can’t do that!
Judging from Lady Lucy’s failure to take invisibility into consideration, we’re looking at a rare trait. Yet this danger-gal has it. Why? How?
Sans caught himself hyperventilating. He stopped it before his breaths exposed his location.
Calm down, Sans. Let’s go through this from top to bottom.
The sniper gal must have relied on this perfect stealth to eject out of her giant skeleton frame. Ran away while Judge Thyme dropped his final judgement. Her Eye commanded so.
…Perfect aim. Ultra-focus. Clairvoyance. Truesight. Super strength. Titan-size. Invisibility. For her to have this many Seer abilities in one body, she can’t be a natural-born. It has to be the result of some sort of genetic splicing. A designer baby.
If that’s the case, it’s not just Snakeface’s genes that were exploited. They’ve taken samples from Garamond too. Heck, we’re probably talking about any suitable candidate on the Surface! Bone shavings and marrow fluid won’t be enough. They need proper SOUL samples. For them to obtain such, they must have medical access to renowned Seers. An inside job by monster hands? I’ll file that thought for later.
Either way… Garamond’s two Eyes help separate the workload. That’s how he’s always been stable despite having such a powerful ability. Danger-gal, however, is a Mixed. Compressing two into one means doubling the strain. It’s twice as stressful to use. That will definitely risk Overburn.
Thinking back, she insisted on keeping her sanity. She’d rather die by my hands than become an uncontrollable beast. But now that she’s already like this… there’s nothing holding her back. She’s free to use all the abilities at her disposal. And, this makes her more dangerous than ever…
Crap! We’re at a major disadvantage.
So… Will she use her gun? Or will she decide to go physical? Sans could only guess.
He looked at Lady Lucidia for a clue. Instead, he spotted a strange phenomenon. Red wisps coiled over each other to form a thin, red string. It’s taut, attaching itself between the woman’s eyes.
Huh? Is that… a ‘Dream’?
Sensing imminent danger, Sans grabbed her around the waist and teleported sideways.
Upon that instant, he heard a gunshot. A bullet punched into the kitchen door, spitting a cone of shrapnel backwards into the frontmost barricade. Goodbye table.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Startled by his sudden presence, the invisible sniper started rambling. It’s a mix of gibberish noise and actual speech. The echoing within the empty cafeteria made it difficult to pinpoint her exact presence.
[MA TA… ME RAH…] she said, [MA TA… ME RAH… BA HA YA…]
‘Mata Merah’. Sans remembered hearing that before in an old timeline. It was the last message she recorded before he consumed her SOUL.
[MA TA ME RAH… MATA MERAH… MATA MERAH BAHAYA! MATA MERAH MATA MERAH MATA MERAH!!!!!]
A curious behaviour. Why did she get spooked?
He asked, “Lil’ Lucy, what does your database say?”
“Language identified,” She responded. “Mata Merah’, it means ‘Red Eye’. ‘Bahaya’ means ‘Danger’.”
“Okay. Was not expecting a real answer. But, that makes a ton of sense. Thanks.”
She’s recognizing the Eye of Dreams as an unknown threat. That’s why she’s freaking out.
Hmmm. What if the red line is her killing intent? Her ‘dream’ of success.
Another red string appeared on the Lady. Sans opened the door with telekinesis and hurried her away. “Hide! Go, go, go!”
The string trailed her as she ran. Sans is certain now: he could see where the next shot would land.
He traced the line back to the rightmost corner of the room. He swiftly intercepted the attempt with four Gasterblasters: his strongest attack.
The loud zings of the lasers ended in even louder booms. Karma spread on the surface they had hit, rotting those spots into loose concrete sand.
Meanwhile, Lady Lucidia successfully made her escape into the kitchen. That would have been a good thing if Sans knew where the enemy went.
I missed. When did she flee? Where did she go?
The footsteps returned. The source of the sound had shifted to the left side of the cafeteria.
I get it now. The loudness of my Blasters masked her escape and made me lose her position.
It happened again. This time, the string connected to Sans’ chest.
He leapt right. The bullet zipped past by a wide margin, hitting the wall and spraying shrapnel outwards from the impact point.
“Heh,” said Sans. “Looks like it wasn’t a fluke after all. Guess the real fight starts here.”
[MERAAAAAAHHH… BUNUH MATA! BUNUH DIAAAAAAAAAA!!!]
“Yep. I can tell. You’re really pissed off.”
A floating head twirled around Sans in excitement. He placed his red gloved hand on his shoulder, enthusiastically yelling next to his ear.
“BROTHER! WHY DON’T WE INTRODUCE OURSELVES TO HER?”
“How, exactly?” Sans answered back.
“WITH A SPAR, OF COURSE! NYEH HEH HEH! I WANNA SEE YOU DANCE!”
“Dance, huh? Heh, it’s… it’s been a while.”
A small spark ignited in his heart. Fun? When was the last time he had fun?
It was against the most magnificent of souls -- whose shine glowed brighter than the Sun itself -- wasn’t it?
How he wanted to see that light again.
Sans pressed his hat down on his skull, tilted his head back, and laughed. It wasn’t his usual ‘hehs’ either. It was a genuine all-out laugh.
“Hey danger-gal, wanna have a ‘mad’ time?”
The Eye of Dreams then burned bright in preparation for the nightmare to come.
He heard her scuttle away, putting a good distance between herself and Sans.
Patient, Sans Serif too stood his ground. The girl’s ‘dream’ was a hazy wisp of violence. But, there was a tiny window of opportunity where her intent showed clear as day.
It soon happened again: another string connected to his sternum.
Right on cue, Sans teleported aside, avoiding both the original bullet and the resulting shrapnel.
With each subsequent line of killing intent, he kept to his teleports and countered with Karma-laced bones. He tried waves. Sprays. Trickshots and good-old hailstorms.
Their exchange went head-to-head, toe-to-toe, shot after shot, and blow after blow. The enemy’s Clairvoyance had yet to fail her, and his feet had yet to fail him.
Then, when he dodged the latest bullet, some of the shrapnel bits ended up cutting into his hoodie. The gap grew closer and closer… Just the thought was enough to make him sweat…
She’s faster than the kiddo. More accurate too. Plus her Clairvoyance is catching up.
Still, this is nothing compared to Gaster’s hellish training. It really IS fun!
Heh. Heh heh heh. I’m starting to become like Undyne, aren’t I?
“Welp, if you insist on staying hidden… Let’s play a game. It’s called ‘The Floor is Lava’!”
With a wave of his hand, Sans covered the whole of the cafeteria in bones. Every space of his influence became a dead man’s zone.
Fall into the bones, and the enemy would face Karmic Retribution. Stay above it, and she would be limited to hopping between islands of tables. They’re much more audible than the floor.
Her location would be exposed either way.
He soon heard the stomping of boots on row one, column four. Before she could even get a proper aim, he spiked that table in the hopes of trapping her.
“Didn’t say your islands won’t sink either. It’s precarious ground.”
She jumped to the neighbours. Hopped around a bit. Stopped at row two, column three.
Sans responded with more spikes there. That ‘island’ sank too.
Row three, column three.
Row two, column one.
Row one, column three.
The more she fled, the less ground remained for her to stand on. It didn’t take long for her to be stranded on the last remaining lonely spot.
Row four, column two.
It was then Sans finally brought out his Blasters. She’s more or less a sitting duck. A fish in a barrel. All he needed to do was to pull the trigger and end the game.
Except…
…The red thread of death pointed up, above his head.
“Huh?” he muttered. “She’s trying to kill the ceiling?”
Horror replaced puzzlement when Sans remembered a key detail. From there, the spray of shrapnel would come hailing down upon him.
That’s nothing short of a messy, dusty death.
Sans teleported out of the zone of impact. The gunshot rang, and the bullet hit the ceiling. Just as he had predicted, the follow-up bits had utterly destroyed the spot where he once stood.
Another red thread connected to the ceiling.
And another, and another, and another.
Rapid successions of intent. Rapid successions of shrapnel.
Overwhelmed by the sheer firepower -- with nowhere left to go -- Sans cancelled his elaborate ‘Floor Is Lava’ setup and hid under the table.
She didn’t chase him.
…Welp. That’s what I get for being fancy. How many bullets does she have anyway?
That’s right. It’s not limitless. I think she’s used at least half her magazine by now. But I don’t know the model of her rifle, so I shouldn’t count on her running out.
I have to destroy it right here, right now.
Dunno if this’ll be effective on someone whose brain is fried crispier than chips… but it’s worth a try. I’ll have to act fast.
Sans teleported back out into the open. He lifted his hands in the air: the universal gesture of surrender.
“Hey danger-gal, you win. I recognize your strength. Sorry for the trash talk. It’s just part of the fun, y’know.”
No response. Still suspicious? Maybe she needed more convincing?
“Your prize is in the kitchen. Spare me, and I’ll skedaddle. Let you finish the job.” Wink, wink.
Red light blinded his sight. In other words, the next blow will be the destruction of his Eye.
He shielded the path with his sole working arm.
“No mercy? Fine by me. Have it your way.”
And with that proclamation he conjured a bone sword in his left hand -- warped to row four, column two -- and slashed at the invisible air: a clean cut from top to bottom, straight down the middle.
Sans heard his attack strike true. Mechanical parts, alongside the pieces of her gas mask, clattered on the ground.
Cyan. Yellow. Orange. The girl’s right-sided Seer’s Eye was finally exposed to the elements.
She recoiled from the sudden blast of fresh air. Her hands tried to cover her face, desperate and panicking as her powers grew unstable, making her flicker in and out of visibility.
[TIDAK!!! JANGAN!!! JANGAN TENGOK JANGAN TENGOK!!!]
Distorted screeching ripped through the air. Terrified. Aggravated. She darted and dashed all over the cafeteria. Benches, knocked over. Tables, drumming.
And then Sans began to feel the buzz of magic. His Red Eye burned bright to reveal an ever-growing pattern. What he saw reminded him of a laser trap. A plethora of strings combined to form a wide, haphazard net: like a web of death, designed to kill anything it touches. And it’s closing in, fast.
…Don’t get distracted. Sans thought to himself. Keep track of the numbers. And above all, watch out for any surprises.
He wondered what would happen if he crossed any of the lines. So, he sent out a sacrificial Gasterblaster to trip the proverbial wire.
In response, shards of bone shot out from the shadows. They cut the skull to bite-sized pieces: deadly and efficient.
Heh. Looks like she’s made many lethal bits with roughly the cost of one humerus. Guess they stop being invisible once they’re fired?
A new red thread spawned, landing square on where his SOUL should be. Sans stepped left by instinct to avoid the blow.
The osseous shards whizzed across his right side. Then, he heard a crack, and his body suddenly felt… light.
Looking in that direction, he discovered that his right forearm was gone. Absolutely gone. What’s left was nothing more than a torn sleeve and a stubby elbow.
Ah… I forgot to tie my arm down this timeline. That numb limb trailed too far behind the rest of my body… And now I’m paying the price.
Determination dripped from the wound. It was the worst possible outcome. He may not feel anything there anymore, but his DEMON body still fed precious life through it.
Just a few seconds in, he’s already starting to feel lightheaded. He tried to retreat as far as he could, until his back hit against the kitchen door.
He clutched his chest. Clawed his fingertips into the gaps of his ribcage. At least one ripple pulsed through his being, if not two.
Fuck. Just fuck me. Fuck me and my 1 HP.
I can feel my SOUL throbbing. I’m losing dust. Losing DT. Nevermind the fact I’m bleeding DT at all!
Am I… going to die here?
The rest of his arm crumbled off. Dust scattered in the air. But, the process stopped at the shoulder joint. It didn’t spread to the rest of his body. He expected to collapse into a pile of dust from such a violent loss of a limb, and yet…
I’m alive? Persevering? How?
Is this… due to my Red SOUL?
The bleeding had also stopped, as if the Determination had coagulated. It’s what humans call ‘clotting’.
Still, the target lock on him remained. The net tightened. Ensnared. Entangled. Encroached.
The window of escape narrowed faster than his brain could grasp.
As a final last-ditch effort to defend himself, he put up the sturdiest bubble of frozen space that he could muster.
It was in the nick of time too. Multiple bones were halted in midair. Some flew head on, while others ricocheted off the walls and floors: all homing in on him and his fragile body.
I see. They’re crossing over to trap me. Ugh. Can her Eye predict that far?
Panting heavily, he wiped the sweat off his face. It’s drenched. He’s not surprised that he’s getting dehydrated. Becoming ‘dry bones’ was black comedy in itself.
Her invisibility is flickering… I can’t stay on the defensive. I have to… I have to take initiative. Nip the problem in the bud.
The hallucinatory spirit leaned on his shoulder, asking him a question: “BROTHER? DO WE REALLY NEED TO KEEP HER ALIVE? SHE DOESN’T HAVE A FUTURE.”
“THINK ABOUT IT. SHE CAN’T EVEN TALK PROPERLY. WHERE WILL SHE LIVE? WHO WILL TAKE CARE OF HER? SHE HAS NOWHERE TO GO. THEY MIGHT LOCK HER UP IN A ROOM FOREVER.”
“SHE’S LIKE US, SANS. SO PLEASE… PLEASE END HER MISERY. LIKE HOW YOU ENDED MINE.”
Why not? The spirit was right. Keeping her alive will be a dragged out cruelty of many, many years. Why should he bother taking such a fruitless route?
“PLUS, YOU CAN ABSORB HER TOO. I WOULDN’T MIND AN EXTRA FRIEND, NYEH HEH HEH!”
Tempting. How very tempting. So much juicy lifeforce, ripe for the picking.
Y’know, that does sound like a great idea.
Sans imposed his own killing intent towards the enemy. When he did so, he saw more than just a vague thread. Instead, he saw actual illusions of himself: executing the correct sequence of moves to finish her off.
Many options unveiled themselves before him: a barrage of blasts through her chest… Stabbity stabs through her right eye socket… Slashes of bone from limb to limb…
Or the good-ol SOUL drain. That required some fancy footwork to impale her from behind, but it was certainly possible.
This is different from clairvoyance.
The Eye of Dreams… the red wildcard… it’s showing me how to accomplish what I desire.
He was about to pick the best path of the lot… until he heard three desperate knocks on the kitchen door.
A voice boomed from the other side, one who spoke of a different dream.
It told him to not condemn this poor maddened soul to the grave.
It told him that there’s hope for the cursed and the burned.
It told him to not give up. Be determined to stay on the path of light.
What a familiar radiance. It sounded just like his brother.
Sans remembered faintly that he made a lifelong promise with this similar-sounding person. It was a partnership to build a better world: to make heaven real, the slow and steady way.
That’s right… I have a promise to keep.
The old wishes of death faded away. The Eye of Dreams realigned the clues to match Sans’ new intent: to win without taking a life.
The Eye gave him only one answer: it was to walk straight in the face of danger.
I understand now. The closer I get, the better I can sense her will.
She might try to grab me. Or worse, shoot my skull off right there and then. But… this is the only way to salvage the situation.
The bubble of frozen space had started to lose integrity. Due to the injury, it hit its limits sooner than expected.
I don’t have the stamina to teleport anymore. If that’s the case, I have to follow the path to the letter… Not a single millimeter of deviation…
The moment time resumed ticking, Sans walked forward. He made the laziest, most minimal efforts to turn his body away from the hellish barrage of bone shards.
They missed him and hit the door. From there, he continued his march.
Keep calm and collected. Casual. Fluid. Chillaxed. Stay on the path of safety, and persevere forward.
As long as I maintain my sight on the goal, these lines of death will just oh so narrowly miss their mark.
He stopped right at the location where his Eye had shown. There, he saw his answer. At this uncomfortable face-close distance, he could see his target’s full humanoid form.
It’s faint. It’s red. It’s Determination. But, it was just enough to make out her SOUL, beating at the core.
Sans Serif -- the ultimate assassin -- pointed his finger towards her chest.
Blue mode, active.
Maximum velocity, set.
Magic, primed.
He suddenly felt a tight grip on his forearm, so strong that it threatened to tear it off. Perhaps her Eye predicted that he would try to escape. It would fit his cowardly nature, wouldn’t it?
But he refused. Instead, he pressed the mental launch button.
Both of them flew out together, straight through the playground door. He rocketed face first into the wet windy cold. The sudden change of brightness made him wince.
“Cor Blimey!”
That was an exclamation Sans hadn’t heard in a while. He knew only one person who’d use that cringy phrase, and it’s none other than Gaelic Blanc.
Sans thought this is the time he could be cheeky. Say ‘ey, glad you made it’ or ‘engage the doodoobutt’ or something to that effect. Too bad reality didn’t care for cool quotes. Instead, they both tumbled onto the child-safe rubber flooring.
Thank heavens that the material had military-grade impact absorption properties. He really, really, REALLY didn’t want to push his 1 HP luck any further.
While he tried to recover, he felt Snakeface scoop him up. It was swift, but rather rough. It lacked the finesse that his brother would have had.
Next thing he knew, he was tossed over into Grillby’s arms. Sans squinted from the orange glow, another reminder of his photosensitivity.
He heard Gaelic say: “Sir Grillenn, ah hold off the girl! Protect Sans Serif: he smells o’ dust and worse!”
The defender jumped into the fray without hesitation. Owning much higher stamina and a fresher start, he should have no problem keeping danger-gal quite occupied.
“Yo, Grillby.” Sans greeted in his usual casual manner.
Alarmed, Grillby uttered: “…Your arm! … I have to take you inside…”
“Don’t. We’ll lose if you leave.”
“…But you’re injured……Wait… Is that blood?!… How are you bleeding?!…”
“It’s a long story. By the way, it’s not really blood. It’s Determination.”
“…So… That’s what Sir Gaelic meant by ‘worse’…”
Assessing the situation, Sans realised a few neat details. First, the patterings of rain had exposed the location of the invisible enemy. There’s a distinct person-shaped outline where the droplets were landing, though it may still be difficult to discern her attacks.
Second, Gaelic was excellent for the situation. His tongue flicked every so often to keep track of his opponent’s scent. Since he’s fighting a humanoid, he kept to human martial arts. ‘Snake Style’, if Sans recalled correctly. He was once at the receiving end; it’s super effective!
For a moment, the line of death stuck to Gaelic’s neck. It vanished when he ducked out of range.
“Huh.” Sans mused, “I won’t be surprised if he can sense a focused killing intent. Dude eats Living Victories for breakfast.”
“Listen, Grillby, let’s team up. You have the stamina, I have the Eye. I can see which of her attacks will be fatal. Trust me. That’s how I’m still alive.”
The other man asked: “…Isn’t that your normal repertoire?…”
“It’s more than my usual analytics. Whenever she’s aiming for a kill, she’ll focus her wish of ‘death’ on her target. You only have a split second to react. Snakeface there can feel it on instinct, but I don’t think you can.”
Then, the dreaded thread of death connected to Grillby: landing where his liver would be.
“Dodge!” Sans ordered.
Grillby stepped aside. Right on cue, a bone whizzed past and sliced off a nearby swing’s chains, causing the seat to flip sideways.
Whatever initial puzzlement existed was instantly replaced with serious concern. “…I see your point now…”
“Tuck me under your arm. Hurry.”
And Grillby did exactly that. Tucked Sans under his left arm, leaving his dominant side free.
Sans proceeded to update the enemy's objective live.
Sometimes it’s a single shot on Snakeface. Sometimes it’s on Grillby. And every now and then, it would be a surprise ricochet aiming for Sans.
After that, it didn’t take long for her to increase the frequency to its old level. One bone shard became two and two became many, trying hard to push the fighters to their breaking point.
Sans commented, “I think she’s having a hard time looking directly at you. Notice that she’s only targeting the black parts of your clothes.”
“…She can’t focus on me…” Grillby replied. “…Just like you…”
“Yep. Exactly the same.”
“…Then, guide me closer… I need to get in range… To aggravate her senses…”
“Sure thing. Follow my lead.”
With the Eye of Dreams, Sans guided the fire elemental down the envisioned path. Made adjustments as he went.
Along the way, he heard clatters of bone versus bone. Snakeface managed to land a couple of strong blows. Add a few more and the assault became enough to make her reel back, shrieking.
Cornered without any way to escape, the enemy called for help.
[TOLONG TOLONG TOLONG ABANG KAKAK PAKCIK MAKCIK AYAH IBU TOLONGKU TOLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG!]
Help responded in her pocket: in the shape of a tiny orb. She pulled out the wooden plate with the Philosopher’s Stone embedded into it, and raised it up high.
W-what?! I thought she’d use it up against Judge Thyme!
“I’M SURE SHE HAS HER FAVOURITES TOO, SANS. MUST HAVE SAVED THEM FOR LAST!”
As loud as he could muster, Sans yelled: “She still has the Stone! Take it out! Quick!”
Magic flowed through Grillby. “…Keep your hat on, Sans…”
How glad he was that he kept his head low. The fire elemental released a large burst of fire, creating a sudden flash of bright light.
Blinded, it disorientated the enemy just enough for Gaelic to strike her hand. Talk about ‘an Eye for an Eye’. That’s how Seers fight.
An object fell on the ground. It was the Philosopher’s Stone. Grillby swiped it before the original owner could reclaim it.
His flames flickered, disturbed and perturbed.
“…I… I can feel people inside…” Grillby noted, “…Real people…”
The theft of her belongings triggered a new spike of aggression. Her howls echoed all around, and Sans saw a shift in her Determination.
It started to form a shell. Armour. Her intent had become clear to the point where Sans could compute it.
‘Take the Stone back at all costs. Save your pack. Survive together.’ That’s the reflection of her heart, her dream.
Her Seer’s Eye blazed with rage. The invisibility dissipated, revealing a skeleton wearing another skeleton. The girl’s human form lay shrouded under the boneplates of a wolf. The skull -- the Blaster’s head -- had completely covered her original face.
She initiated a charge, but Gaelic intercepted it. He held both arms hostage and stood his ground. They locked craniums in a fierce wrestle of strength.
“Nnngh, she be strong…” he grunted. “Evenly matched. And ‘twas after M’lord feasted on her spirit.”
The poisonmaster puffed out a plume of purple gas, filled with Silvermane components. She breathed in the fumes, except her maddened berserker’s rage kept her wide awake.
“Curse me crusty luck o’ the ocean depths! Our foe hath truly prepared well against me.”
Left swipe, right swipe, front step, back push. Each time he had the opportunity, Gaelic puffed a new cloud of tranquilizers. And it eventually started to work: her movements slipped and slided. Sluggish. Confused.
And yet, she still fought tooth and nail. The werewolf opened her maws. A beam of magic started to form, charging up for a point-blank blast through Gaelic’s head.
Despite the danger, he refused to budge. Neither side wanted to let go of their grip: be it fuelled by fight or folly.
“Orders please, Sir Grillenn! Ah cannae hold her forever!”
It’s the decisive moment. If Sans had the stone in his hand, he wouldn’t hesitate to destroy it.
However… It was all up to Grillby’s final discretion.
“I won’t tell you what to do with it,” said Sans. “You know the truth.”
Grillby’s grip tightened around the plate. “…Can they be saved?…”
In his most straightforward honesty, the Tactician replied: “Not anymore. Any possible salvaging can only be done while they’re still in liquid form. Once they’re set in stone, they’re doomed for un-life.”
“…I see… Then I know what I must do…”
The knight of fire chose to set the damned free… by taking in the last of their powers. Crushing it whole in his grip, he ignited his will.
A great ring of crimson flame spread across the playground. It formed an impenetrable wall. Nothing could dampen it, not even the thunderstorms overhead or the soaked ground below. Droplets of rain turned into tiny embers and the puddles kindled into torches.
Active Fires of Humanity had their colours drained. Gone were their former Aspects, replaced by the crimson red will of the absorber.
White glitch squares obscured Sans’ own vision. He knew he couldn’t shut off his Eye by this point. And so, it would be an inevitable part of the absorption.
Here comes the grand finale.
The future I want… my true dream… is the one that I cannot see.
Every flame within Grillby’s immense range -- conceptual or real -- linked under his authority and collapsed onto a single point.
And then…
…Darkness.
Sans had lost his senses. But, he’s not worried. He knew this blindness would be temporary. As for the outside world, everything will be good times from this point onward.
He felt… a sense of movement, like he was being carried away.
It’s soothing. Gentle. Careful. Reminded him of a long lost loved one.
“CAN YOU HEAR ME?” the loved one spoke.
The immediate reply was: “Uh… yeah.” It seemed that he could, much to his own amazement.
An image started to phase in. It was… weirder than Sans expected. It looked like a skeleton, except he couldn’t see his face. A golden halo shone from the back of the head. This person wore red, and he had wings for arms, with the feathers adorned in eyes.
“Huh. Are you an angel? With a halo like that, you gotta be an angel. Somehow… you sound just like my brother.”
“…COULD YOU TELL ME MORE ABOUT HIM?”
“His name was Papyrus. He died a long, long time ago.”
“OH, I’M SORRY TO HEAR THAT. WHAT HAPPENED? IF YOU DON’T MIND TELLING, OF COURSE. NO PRESSURE.”
Excitement bubbled in his heart. Sans wanted nothing more than to talk to this holy being. He didn’t know why, neither did he care.
“There was once an unstoppable human who destroyed the universe. They then remade it, only to repeat the crime. Time and time again. Like a house of blocks subject to the most childish of whims.”
“My brother, however, had a dream. He thought that if he could show that human kindness, they would turn over a new leaf. Quit their sins. Repent from evil.”
“But the human chopped off his head. Time and time again. You’ve seen guillotines, right? Popular in the past. Well, it’s not always criminals who got beheaded. It’s anyone who didn’t gain the people’s favour.”
“Papyrus was one such object of mockery. Everything he valued, everything he stood for… his faith in mercy… mercilessly destroyed in execution.”
“So, I stopped his cycle of suffering. Killed Papyrus before the human could kill him. Gave him a swift, dignified death. Why should he continue living in a world that so hated his very existence?”
“I SEE,” said the glowing one. “YOU MUST LOVE HIM VERY MUCH.”
“Ahuh. Of course. He’s my baby brother. My sweet, baby brother. My sun in a sunless underground. He was my everything.”
“Hey, maybe… if he didn’t die, my brother would have looked like you. So radiant. So shining. So glorious. A wonder beyond my imagination. Beyond my dreams…”
“But I will never find out because he’s dead. I regret it. I regret killing him so, so much.”
Tears welled up in his sockets. They flowed down the side, unceasing.
“If only…” he sobbed. “If only I had more faith.”
“YOU HAVE ENOUGH FAITH,” said the shining one. “YOU’VE KEPT YOUR PROMISE NOT TO KILL THE POOR GIRL.”
“Huh. I did, didn’t I?”
“YES! AND AFTER WE AGREED TO BUILD HEAVEN THE SLOW AND STEADY WAY, YOU CHOSE TO BE GOOD, EVEN IF IT’S EASIER TO BE BAD. THAT TAKES FAITH. LOTS AND LOTS OF FAITH!!!”
“I see… Never thought of it that way.”
“AS FOR YOUR GENUINE BROTHER, DON’T WORRY. HE’LL RETURN TO YOU VERY SOON.”
“Really?”
“REALLY! AND HE WILL FORGIVE YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU’VE DONE. SO LIVE! OTHERWISE YOU WILL MISS EACH OTHER ON THE WRONG SIDE OF REALITY!”
“True. True. Hey, angel. Tell your boss, ‘thank you’. ‘Thank you so, so much’…”
“I WILL! FOR NOW, REST FOR THE MORROW, OKAY? I’LL LET MY FRIEND, THE FAIRY GODMOTHER, TAKE CARE OF YOU.”
“Rest? What’s rest again?” He wondered.
A sweet lullaby chimed, radiating peaceful Determination. How… relaxing. It felt like his first real sleep in years.
Aah… So this is what it means to rest.
Good night world… I can’t wait… to see Papyrus again…