Alias: Cenna Caraway
Class: Vanquisher.
Those who take up the title of Vanquisher mask their true names as a defensive measure. Some opt for a full alias, while others hide their surnames.
Many of those who chose this path carry the legacy of their forefathers. Obscuring their lineage is thus required to made it difficult for their targets to identify their style and modus operandi.
Some, like Cenna, work straight in the field.
Others, like Anise, lean more on extensive preparation.
So far, Cenna’s usual police investigation methods weren’t yielding results. Too many knew too little.
She had a proverbial jigsaw puzzle with a ton of missing pieces, demanding the help of someone more logic oriented. Instinct can only go so far.
Cenna plugged her earphones into one of the many tablet devices that she had brought along for the mission.
She sought up the communications tab and flicked through the list of names.
The first call: to her colleague. Voice channel, one-way video cam.
A Magi’s lab must be kept discreet.
“Yo Anise,” said Cenna. “You free?”
“Yeah. Just finished the last batch for the day. Please don’t tell me you need another of my special sleeping potions. A child-safe, tasteless version costs a bomb!”
“Nah. Nothing like that. I wanna thank ya for all the stuff you’ve done, with good ol’ cash.”
“Judge Thyme covered the cost waaaay before you. Plus I won’t take your money. You’re broke enough to mooch off school cafeterias. A monster school nonetheless.”
Cenna yelped, “What the hell?! How did you know???”
Anise laughed at the other end. “Dude. I’ve known you since our freshie days! You think I don’t know your cost-saving tactics? I’m glad they’ve fed you well.”
There was a spike of excitement in the next question. “So, is it true that almost every edible stuff there is made out of magic?”
“Oh yeah. Totally. They got some physical goods, but I think ninety percent are clones. Still tasty and nutritious! Hey, lookit this.”
Cenna showed a cinnamon bunny at the camera. “Believe it or not, this is a hundred percent magic.”
There was a huge squeal on the other end. “Kyaaaaa~~~! It’s so cute!”
“They call this a ‘cinnamon bunny’. As you can see, it’s a bunnified cinnamon roll. Tastes just like the real thing. I got six of these as gifts from the innkeeper lady. Three for you, three for Lucy.”
“I can’t wait to analyze them at the Research Department!”
Cenna thought it’s about time to get to business. “Hey Anise, mind hooking me up to Lucy? I need her help.”
“…Dude. Really? Can’t you just call bossman for that? You want me to walk aaaaall the way to the main spire and look for her in the Records Room? It’s bloody far from here.”
“I don’t want Mez to know this. Please, Anise. I really, really, reeeeeally need to talk to her.”
“Well, there's one way… Give me five minutes.”
She raised a brow. “So fast?”
“Yeeeah. I’ve had this ‘secret weapon’ in my desk for a while now, just waiting for the opportunity to trade. This is sure to grab her attention, hehehe, I'm sure she’ll have a tough time explaining to ‘Mezzy’ why she owes me 50 bucks for a digital item.”
Amateur, Cenna thought. She waved the cinnamon bunny at the camera and threatened: “If you insist on taking advantage of our dear lady, I will eat your share. Right in front of you!”
Anise gasped. A bunch of mutterings went on the other end, trying to decide between childish greed and responsible research.
“How about a deal?” said Anise. “I’ll get off my butt and walk to Lady Lucidia. In return you will buy me Ebott’s specialities. I’ll even pay you. Just. Transport them in pristine condition.”
Proud of her success, the Vanquisher leaned against her chair with a smug grin. “Should have done this from the beginning, eh?”
“Meh. Expect her in twenty minutes.”
The call ended there. Cenna burst out laughing.
“Hah. Anise failed online market speculations again. I’m sure. That’s the only reason she’s trying to pawn off an in-game item for stupid prices.”
If it had any real value, Lucidia would have used her huge in-game wealth to buy that item for herself. Not that Anise would know. There were only two other people who had seen her total assets, and one of them was Cenna.
The lady took one of the tablet devices to her messy bed. It looks terrible, but it’s comfortable. She then dropped on the sheets and stared at the ceiling.
Once upon a time, this woman graduated top in her class. People spoke well of her athletics and praised her gift of magic. Thought she had a bright future ahead, all the way to retirement age.
Then one day… her arm went out of control. A chorea. Her promise extinguished like a blown-out candle.
She took the news about as well as anyone in their early twenties: which involved a ton of drama, drinking, and reckless driving.
If it weren’t for Mezil and his wife, who knew if she survived the first year?
“I wonder what’s the Spirit Realm like,” she muttered, “If it even exists.”
If only I could rewind time and raise Frisky like that Cinnamon Roll’s brother.
Nah. An impossible dream at its most impossible there.
Maybe I should try something more realistic. Like, spend more time with the Ebott folk.
Yeah. That’s doable. Use all my leaves, and take more unpaid ones. My final vacation.
That positive thought didn’t last long. A tear rolled down the sides of her eyes.
I wish I had more time.
Buzzing interrupted her thoughts.
When Cenna picked it up, she noticed that twenty-two minutes had passed. Complete with two missed-calls.
They came from no other than ‘Lucidia B’.
“Damn, I fell asleep? I’m really turning into a tall girly Sans at this rate.”
She answered it.
A gentle young woman’s voice opened the floodgates of concerned questions: “Judge Caraway? Are you alright? You didn’t answer.”
“Eh. Dozed off.” Casual level, maximum.
“Have you been getting enough rest? Are you still bothered by that constant snoring orchestra? Did you change rooms yet?”
Cenna always found it amusing how Lucidia could sound so polite, demure, and yet completely frantic at the same time.
“Yeah, yeah, Lucy. I’m sleeping enough hours. Changed rooms. Not hearing the orchestra anymore, don’t worry.”
Well, she could still hear them a tiny bit at the quietest moment of the night. But Lucidia didn’t need to know that. Otherwise, her friend would fuss over her more than Miss Toriel.
“Anyways. Think ya could be honest about my fate?”
“For certain, Judge Caraway.” said Lucidia, “When is your requested time period?”
“Frisky’s exorcism. I wanna know how I ended up with five hours worth of loops. That’s a damn lot of timey-wimey shenanigans. As usual Mez ain’t tellin’ me a blip.”
“Well…”
Lucidia told her the full story of what happened in the original timeline:
Of how Cenna attempted to vanquish the DEMON named Chara;
Of her failure to double-check with her remaining Truesight Potion;
Of her death through a stab wound that cut into her heart’s arteries;
Of her funeral at the institute.
Cenna had become a DEMON herself. The Vanquishers chained down the essence of their former colleague and attempted to perform the rites of peace. No one knew if it turned out successful since Mezil had found Papyrus by then.
The loops continued with more deaths until the Seer requested for an earlier SAVE.
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiit!” Cenna exclaimed. “I didn’t check for lingering essence, like fucking seriously?! God, that’s such a beginner’s mistake! I would have failed any applicant who failed to follow through.”
“Lucy. I’m totally gonna hand in my badge. Resign. Quit. Whatever! I’m gonna do that tonight. I failed my own damn standards and I paid it with my life! Fuckups equal to death. Exactly what happened. I might as well consider my career dead right there. Fuck my life.”
“T-to be fair, your family’s ‘Vanquishing Arts’ concentrates on total elimination. The implanting of internal explosives should disperse a DEMON’s essence enough to prevent reconstruction.”
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“Judge Thyme confirmed that the source of Chara’s survival was due to the presence of Ebott Goldenflower seeds. Cheaters of Death. It had nothing to do with your magic.”
“No, no, no, Lucy. I know I’m dying, but don’t defend me out of pity.”
“There’s a damn good reason why I brought TWO Truesight Potions. One for before the exorcism and one for after. Minimum. Standard procedure. A VERY important standard procedure that I fucked up so hard it ain’t even funny.”
Cenna then screamed into her pillow out of sheer shame.
Slightly annoyed, Lucidia said: “I’m still on the line, miss. Please save your dramatic responses after we finish our business.”
“Fuck. Sorry.” She tossed the pillow aside. “So Mez made Papyrus his proxy and… things happened. Did he tell you anything about what went down in his Hub?”
“No. Not yet, at least. He’s been busy with the DEMON flowers. Or rather, trying to keep them in line.”
Chara and Flowey. They’re naughty brats in their own right.
“Right,” Cenna sighed. “Okay. I need your smarts for the follow up of the Chara case. This is major with a big M, so I can’t say it out loud. Sending ya my report right now.”
The report contained testimonies collected from Toriel. Encrypted for extra security.
After the other end processed the data, Lucidia faltered.
“Oh no. This. This is terrible news. Are you serious, Judge Caraway?”
“Serious,” she replied. “Think you could use this information?”
“I can give it a test run, but I don’t think it’ll yield any results. This timeline is too new for me. But… I don’t need the Orange Aspect to know that we might be heading straight toward a dead end.”
“Hah. Speaking from experience?”
“Speaking from experience. Oh dear… what’s Judge Thyme going to do?”
Cenna shrugged. “Same thing as always. Trial and error, change the circumstance, gambit his the way to the sky, yadda yadda.”
“Provided he could keep doing so. Frisk’s presence had interfered with his ability to manipulate time for a long while. Furthermore…” Lucidia hesitated for a moment. “There’s no guarantee for his safety. All it takes is just one bad turn to be killed for good.”
“Hmm,” the Vanquisher pondered. “If we can’t see the future… what about the past? Think ya can reconstruct that without depending on either Mez or the Cinnamon Roll?”
“Please give me a moment to check.” After some typing and clicking, she replied, “Insufficient data. I’m afraid I must enquire more information from Judge Thyme before I can provide anything useful. Apologies.”
“Figures that Miss Toriel ain’t telling the full story. Sheesh, this is a giant headache.”
She’s trying to get penance for her ex-husband after all. In other words, she would do her best to lessen the severity of his actions.
Asgore may be a gentle giant, but his lack of supervision caused a whole ton of mess. Negligence could be one of the many possible charges. Perhaps the best result.
Doctor Gaster? He’s supposed to be the first person to advise against any form of war. Yet he did the opposite. In human society, he would have become the ultimate scapegoat for the royalty. Shove all the heavy sentencing on him.
Except, Toriel pleaded for that goopy scientist too. She’s a mother all the way through.
If Cenna had a choice, she wouldn’t want Gaster to be tossed into maximum security prison for life. No amount of punishment would bring back her dear adoptive parents.
He repented and devoted himself to the right path. That’s all it mattered to her: much better than the hardcores who learned nothing from their incarceration.
But… would the other victims of the tragedy be as kind as her?
“Um,” Lucidia said, “Excuse me, I just received a message. Please wait a moment.”
One second later…
“Judge Thyme wants you to meet him at 9.00 PM. He said it is of critical importance.”
Later that evening, Cenna boarded a taxi.
Mez’s back in the timey-wimey game, right? I should check my watch.
The mirrored side of her pocket watch told the same time as the normal front. No desynchronization.
Cenna sighed. The most annoying part of her job was trying to figure out that old man’s plans.
An hour later, she arrived at the Magus Association’s Headquarters: otherwise dubbed as ‘The Institute’ by many.
Here was the original birthplace of modern magic. It started with a manor, then it upgraded in size and height to accommodate that era’s facilities.
Now it encompassed offices, universities, campuses, laboratories, greenhouses, a lake park, and assorted other maintenance structures.
After paying the fee, Cenna stood on the main path. She looked up into the sky while holding her hat. The Spire towered against the orange sunset clouds, shadowed by the twilight.
Improvements in architectural skyscraping technology made it possible to construct a space-efficient central facility. At its core it was no different than any other building, but its decorations made it look like a fantastical spirally wizard’s spire.
The old Berendin Manor was shifted to the flat rooftops, far above its original ground level. It’s now the primary residence of the Magi’s Supreme Judge. In this case, Mezil Thyme.
And that’s where she had to meet him.
“Damn,” she muttered to herself. “It’s hard to believe that The Spire’s only eighty years old. The first-tier school is like ten times the age or something.”
Cenna walked onto the grounds proper. Cherry blossom trees lined the entrance walkway. Though, they’re now bare in their winter slumber.
At least I’ll get to see them bloom one more time before I go.
People en-route recognized her: said their hellos and goodbyes. For most, it’s past office hours and hence it’s time to go home for the weekend.
The same can’t be said for those either on-call or shift workers. She’s in the former category.
The lobby itself was nothing like the whimsical imaginations of the ignorant public. They functioned just like any other organization: which means they had a clean, spacious, and professional greeting space.
No fancy mancy floating objects for cool-points. They tried that once in aeons past, but visitors kept plucking the deco out of levitation range.
Cenna found Anise pouting away at a sofa, waiting for her delivery of cinnamon bunnies. Three of those buns were placed into the colleague’s hands. Just as promised.
Then it’s off to the cafeteria. There’s no way she wants to meet Mezil on an empty stomach.
Beef salad, water, and a nice helping of pilaf: that should be sustainable until midnight.
While she had her meal, another message chimed in her pocket. It’s from Mezil Thyme.
Huh, the greenhouse? That’s where the flower kids live. A chat with them would be nice.
All agricultural-related works were at the south side of the complex. That’s where they get the most sunlight. It’s not far from her current location.
The greenhouses were separated into two main categories: ‘Tropical’ and ‘Temperate’. Plants are not universal: some require cooler temperatures than others. This is where the Magi grow their flora for both alchemical and laboratory studies.
No one said they can’t import their reagents, but there will always be a need for live study.
Cenna entered the Temperate zone. There, she found two sentient Ebott Goldenflowers playing a console game at the greenhouse benches. They had finished their chores for the day and were thus rewarded with playtime.
They had managed to turn their vines into ‘hands’, allowing them use of the control buttons.
Flowey asked, “Hey Chara, what else do you need for your collection?”
Chara replied, “Truffles and the legendary Poripom Fruit.”
Upon hearing the name ‘Poripom Fruit’, Cenna realised that Lucidia had introduced her favourite game to the two flowers.
It’s good: that title had no violence involved. Perfect for rehabilitation.
“I got truffles!” Flowey exclaimed. “I found a forest with lots of them. Dooooo you have Honey Melons?”
Chara smirked. “Heh, you’re asking someone who grows that stuff.”
The other flower huffed. “You’re just lucky that you looted the seeds from that cave. It’s a rare spawn you know.”
“Yep. That’s why I’m gonna farm lots of them for profit. Then I could buy not one but two Poripom Fruits from the market. Come, let’s trade.”
Looks like they’re recovering. It’s just like what the Cinnamon Roll wanted.
“Yo!” Cenna called out and tipped her cool hat. “How’s life treating ya?”
Flowey brightened up and waved a leaf to greet back. “Howdy! Life’s great. Well, other than our tiny little oopsie. Otherwise it’s great, really!”
“Nice to hear that, flower boy.” She patted him on the head.
On the other hand, Chara tried to avoid direct eye contact. They kept their focus on their game. Not that anyone could blame them: trying to talk to an ex-enemy takes some getting used to.
Cenna sat down next to Chara on purpose. “No need to be so sour around me, yeah? We’re totally fine now.”
Flowey nudged his friend with a leaf, trying to encourage them to respond.
“Okay, okay, okay, stop poking me.” Chara glanced at the human lady and said, “It’s good. I get to do my own stuff and not depend on Frisk. And life in wizardland is pretty chill too. Better than my original home that’s for sure.”
With a smile, Cenna commented: “You sound really different when you’re not off the rockers. I like that.”
“Heh. You’re not half bad either,” they said. “Also, you guys are nothing like what my bio parents told me: from the facility, to the behaviour, to the magic itself.”
“This place is a lot more mundane than I imagined too. I mean, if you told me this is a normal greenhouse I would have believed it.”
Cenna snorted in response. “Oh boy, I get what ya mean. It ain’t anything like TV. You see… all the fancy stuff eats into our budget. If they serve no practical purpose, we try to not use those.”
“Smart.” The rosy-cheeked flower curled their lips into a grin. “Hey Asriel, tell her about Mettaton’s dumb fountain. Sometimes that guy owns no logic whatsoever.”
Flowey burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, that one. Parading a statue of his box-mode on the fountain is fine and all, but that thing spouts water OUTSIDE of the pool! So the floor is forever drenched.”
“Ya serious?!” Cenna exclaimed.
“Seeeerious! I’m amazed that he didn’t make similarly dumb decisions with his new MTT empire. I think getting on the Surface might have fed him some common sense.”
Chara added, “Then again, maybe there’s someone behind the scenes managing his stuff. Napstablook, maybe?”
Flowey furrowed his brows and thought hard. “Kinda… difficult to imagine. Especially when they vanish on the slightest hint of embarrassment.”
In between their gaming, the two flowers continued to share bits and pieces of the Ebott folk.
The people had completely misconstrued a ton of human culture with hilarious results. After all, their only reference were washed down trash. Add imagination to the mix and one would end up with the weirdest weirdness.
Better than picking up the wrong habits. Entertainment content had age limits for a reason, and sometimes things can get unwholesome even for adults.
The greenhouse echoed with laughter over Undyne’s anime antics. Cenna almost couldn’t believe it. The Undyne she knew was a good policewoman, albeit rather hotheaded. Pinning down the kidnappers without inflicting major injuries takes skill.
Not… someone so eager for excitement that she would set up a creepy atmosphere in advance with Echo Flowers. Or believe that humans had mind control.
“Life must be really boring down there,” Cenna commented.
The flower children glanced at each other.
“Golly, you have no idea,” said Flowey. “Making your own amusement only goes so far. It’s part of the reason why Mettaton shot straight up to stardom.”
Chara nodded with their leaves crossed, knowing the feeling all too well. “Imagine a millenia of not-much-new. Then add a few hundred time loops. Great reason to go crazy there.”
They frowned at the thought. “The Underground adventure… for a long time that’s our best life. Frisk and mine, together. It’s exciting and free of the usual kiddy limitations of our lives, you know.”
“You Magi didn’t make things any better. I’ll be frank about that. What the hell were you guys thinking anyway? Can’t you just explain stuff to the kid like a normal person?”
Cenna raised a brow. “With YOU around, kiddo? No offence, Chara. But you were seriously mad high. Like you’re drugged twenty-four-seven.”
With a huff, Chara replied. “Well, I think there’s a saying down in the Underground that goes, ‘Determination is one hell of a drug’. Or something.”
“There’s a reason for that.” The noir detective leaned back on the bench and crossed her leg over. “Frisky and Mez had something in common. Have ya noticed it?”
The flowers pondered. Whispered among themselves to try and solve this riddle together.
“They’re stone-faced?” said Flowey. “Like, you can never really tell what’s going on in their mind.”
“I think we call that a ‘stoic’,” Chara added.
Cenna confirmed, “Yup! Bingo right there! You need a strong anchor to not get swept away by their insane amounts of Determination. Ain’t saying that they can’t break, but stoic folk have a certain inner stability. ”
“The Judge before Mez? He’s full of might and heart. He ain’t a cold stone-face. The opposite, really. But, he had great inner strength. I bet he went through a few bad ends and apocalyptic scenarios. Never gave up making the best future for everyone though.”
“Oooooh,” Flowey widened his eyes in awe. “So, Chara didn’t have the right personality, and that’s why they went cray-cray with Frisk’s level of Determination?”
Someone got offended. “What the hell, you went nuts too… God of Hyperdeeeeaaaath!”
“Shut up!” the boy yelled back.
The next few moments involved two children teasing each other about their shortcomings. Typical childish scenario.
Just a little earlier before nine at night, a man entered the greenhouse. The taps of an ebony cane caught everyone’s attention.
It’s Mezil Thyme. He had a slightly different sense of fashion today. He still had his cravat and butterfly brooch, but he swapped out to a business coat.
“What a ruckus,” he commented.
Cenna wasted no time to badger him. “Yoooo, what’s with the modern getup?”
“Guest lecturer,” he replied. “The Grandmaster wanted to stir this year’s final batch. They had grown complacent in their seniority.”
“Bet everyone pooped their pants when they saw ya.”
Mezil replied, “Quite. Well, since we’re all here, we should start the game.”
“Game?” Cenna asked.
Is that a codeword?
He reached for his pocket and showed a box of playing cards. Still sealed in plastic.
The woman felt her eye twitch from anger.
If you called me all the way here to play a stupid card game, I’m so gonna kick your fucking ass.
“I know what you’re thinking, Cenna,” said Mezil. Calm as ever. “Rest assured, your time won’t be wasted. You’ve known me for over a decade after all.”
“I always have a reason.”