Since Mezil’s call, you booted up your computer and searched the net for information. It’s not as helpful as you might think.

Their official pages exist, but you’re certain that there’s elements of propaganda from both sides. Not that you blame them: anyone who wants to promote their group would advertise the best of themselves as much as possible.

The criticisms? You couldn’t tell if it’s a scholarly critique or a grudge match, more so from Gungnir’s side considering their common demographic.

Is this what Sans has to sort through whenever you ask for his help? You gained a newfound respect for his analytical skull.

You couldn’t find anything useful from the encyclopaedia sites either. They are neutral. Perhaps too neutral. They try to be as fair as possible.

Those research attempts soon relaxed into casual reading. As you browsed through the Magi’s ‘Notable People’ list, you spotted your biological family’s name.

The thought that your foreparents contributed so much to history filled you with familial pride.

What about the Gungnir? What sort of notable people do they have? What defines their history? You searched the paedia website for a list.

…No surprise they had a fair bit of assassins in their lineage. There’s a big reason why Chara’s so dang good with knives.

‘Persona’?

It seems that the best of the cultists rename themselves ‘Persona’. They believe it’s proof of their transcendence beyond the limitations of common humans. After their renaming ceremony, these people become the true leaders of Gungnir.

In a way this reminded you of the ‘Living Victory’ title, except way more specific.

If ‘Chara’ was a pun of ‘Character’, it’s likely that their parents really expected them to become this ‘Persona’ figure when they grow up. Though according to themself, their name was supposed to mean ‘Joy’ or ‘Happiness’.

The last name on the list caught your eye. It’s less about the dude’s real identity but more about his date of death.

You remember Mezil said the following: “I was forced to kill him a long time ago.” And no one else had filled in his position since...

The tsundere didn’t lie. It was indeed a long time ago. The last true Gungnir leader died a few months after your birth.

The day your parents died.

Clicking on the page further confirmed the testimonies. It’s stated that Judge Mezil Thyme dealt the finishing blow together with a veteran Vanquisher.

…But they left the details about the death vague. You kinda expected that.

The last Persona reminded you of an energetic anime protagonist. He looks quite hip and cool in his younger days complete with dyed hair highlights. Later in his life he became way more rugged, but there’s something about his confidence that radiated untarnished youth.

You wondered more about Mezil himself. What does the internet say about him? You decided to investigate.

Dang. Young Mezil was a bishounen. Actually, he’s a biseinen since he had that matured look to his face. Still a very handsome chap. He aged well in hindsight despite the sheer amount of crap he had to endure as Mister Red.

But you heard his voice. Met him face to face. The pictures could never capture his sense of underlying gravity.

The situation reminded you of your group photograph. You were there. Sans was there. Dad was there. Mom was there. Everyone looked fine on the pictures. No one would suspect the burdens you and your friends bear.

The page about Mezil might as well belong in a mystery novel. There were so many things implied but never specified. His wife, for example. No one had ever seen her despite multiple evidences of a romantic connection.

You read about his pre-Magus life. He came from a family of five: parents, an elder sister, himself, and a younger brother. It doesn’t sound like he’s close to them, though.

Your phone rang. It’s from Cenna.

“Yo there, Frisky! You peachy on your side of the fence?” It sounds like she’s munching on a sandwich.

You replied with a big ‘Yo!’ too. As for peachy… Mezil kinda indirectly maybe definitely assigned you to some researching homework. It’s kicking your butt. You asked if Cenna is free for a chat?

“Yup. I’m on dinner break at the moment.” Munch munch.

Since you’re using your desktop PC, you decided to reroute the phone call there. It’s less tiring to use your headset than to hold the phone. Integrated communication systems were a blessing.

You put on your gaming headphones. They’re comfy, but comically huge on your small head.

As you adjusted the microphone, you asked if Cenna can hear you.

“Loud and clear. So, what do ya wanna know?”

Your intense focus clipped out the surrounding world, and brought up the ‘shop-question-answer’ interface in your mental visualizations.

> Public perceptions about Magi and Gungnir.

You told her that you tried to read stuff on the internet. But, it’s hard to find any objective information. Maybe it’ll be better if you sought for more first-hand testimonies. You know that Cenna won’t mince her words, so you trust her.

“Oh man, I’m honoured Frisky. Ya sure you wanna do that? I mean, I’m Magi. That means I’ll be suspected for bias by default. Not to mention I’m trained to withhold information.”

Says the person engaged in yelling competitions with mister tsundere. With that much open chiding, there's no way she’ll be reserved.

“Jeez kid you really have a way with words. Okay! I’m gonna ask you a simple question: what do you think of us Magi before you found out the truth?”

You thought they’re spice wizard cultists. Both of you burst into laughter.

“Holy! Now that’s some real crazy misconception there. First off, only Vanquishers mask their names with assorted spice. Nobody else. Second, we’re the anti-cultists people here so don’t lump us together with those buggers!”

“Still, this pretty much explains our predicament. You ain’t the only one who thinks we’re fishy, Frisky. Other than some demon-busting activities, most civilians out there have no dang clue about what we do. We deal with a lot of confidential details.”

> Confidentiality.

Why keep so many things from the public? Wouldn’t education be better in the long run?

“Depends on the kind of info, really. The police and military do the same too. Some secrets are there to protect the Magi. Others exist to prevent the public from going nuts.”

“Paranoid witch-hunt mobs with burning pitchforks? Those were real, Frisky. Those were real. After a certain point, nobody’s gonna listen to any reason. They ain’t got any faith.”

“Really doesn’t help that we participate in some shady activity too.”

> Shady activity.

From your time-travelling adventures, you noticed that the Magi would use any means necessary to get their job done. What’s with the enlistment of kidnappers? Isn’t that against the law?

“Yeeeeah, I honestly hated that deal. From what my Chronographer told me, Mez first used our legit agents. Then you got kidnapped for real! That’s when he got this so-called bright idea to stage one for our own benefit.”

Wow.

Explain, please. This is getting complicated.

“He contacted his police friends. They linked him to undercovers. The guy who nabbed you? He’s a cop. His real job was to make sure you stay alive. You know, arrange proper food and water. Keep you calm. No accidental deaths from stupidness. Stuff like that.”

“There were two clients that day: one of them a rich crook from beyond the country’s borders. The other Mez. The idea was to kidnap and transport you safely to their hideout. Meanwhile, the undercover agent informs the police about your location.”

“Law enforcers would then rescue ya from their grasp. Preferably right before they ship you off so they can catch the transporters red handed too. The real bad guys? Grilled for more intel before getting tossed into prison. Killing two birds with one stone.”

You dropped your jaw. That’s an elaborate plan. You never stayed in a timeline long enough to see it come to fruition.

Now you feel terri-bad. What about the undercover dude? He got freaking suplexed by Undyne! Is he alright???

“Other than some suplex-induced bruises, he’s fine. His team got all the intel they needed and finished up their assignment, so the cops flew him back to his original post far away from this region.”

Phew. You’re so glad that your strong fish friend didn’t kill anyone by accident. Things could have gone so much uglier. Like a spear through his SOUL.

Please pass this message to Judge Thyme: don’t do this mad stunt ever again.

Cenna laughed out loud, “Now you understand why he riles me up!”

Totally.

> Public Relations.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

So the Magus Association, despite having government support, were seen as more suspicious than Gungnir by the general public?

You heard a grumbled sigh from the other side. “Those lightning-heads got it easy, man! Their philosophies appeal to the public. Especially to young idiots who don’t know any better.”

Philosophies?

“Mmmmgh, how do I put this…? Ever heard of this saying? ‘Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime’.”

Yep. You certainly heard that before.

“Well, it's something like that. Think short term versus long term. Most folks want to solve their immediate problems in the shortest time-frame possible. The easy way out.”

“But life ain’t so simple, Frisky. There’s a lot of stuff that requires foresight: get to the root of the problem, plan, investigate, experiment, and wrestle with ongoing issues that may never have a proper resolution.”

“For a lot of common people, it’s a bit too out-there. It’s hard to understand if you’re not thinking on the same level.”

So, what about the Gungnir? How are they more popular?

“One, they’re a lot more motivational. Two, they appeal to personal desires.”

“Yeah sure their martial arts training regiment is as tough as nails, but they’re straightforward. Their philosophy is essentially ‘be strong, get strong, stay strong’. Why? To help defend humanity of course.”

“Now imagine if that supposed ‘help’ depends on violence. There are no limitations other than being ‘able’ of doing what you think is necessary.”

It struck you like a ton of bricks. The gangs who’re attacking Ebott believed they’ll help humanity by chasing the monsters away. If that happened in a large scale, it would result in war.

You told Cenna that you got the point. Is this why Mezil really doesn't like those lightning-heads?

“You can say that Mez knows just how dangerous they can be. Their leader was a Red SOUL dude too. Two Reds fighting each other over decades is gonna result in a whole lotta hurt.”

“A little bit of trivia for ya, Frisky. The last ‘Persona’ was Mez’s classmate. They ain’t friends, but they ain’t strangers either. Kinda sad to see someone you know go down the drain.”

…You agreed with her. You wouldn’t know what to think if you encountered someone in the same predicament.

“Hey, sorry to cut short but I gotta get back to work now. Talk to ya later, Frisky.”

Okay. You wish her good luck on her duties. You then ended the call.

You pondered about your next best step. Isn’t Papyrus the epic living Chronograph fella now? He’ll be perfect for the job, provided you understand his unique explanations.

You tried calling him, but he didn’t answer. Instead you received a message that said the following:

‘I APOLOGIZE FOR NOT ANSWERING YOUR CALL, FRISK. BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ON A GRAND FETCH QUEST FOR UNCLE GASTER! I’LL GET BACK TO YOU WHEN I’M DONE.’

A fetch quest for the incarcerated goopy scientist? Is that even legal? Oh well, it piqued your curiosity enough to not alert Undyne about it. Not like that’s a good idea to begin with.

Your night continued as usual. Mom cooked dinner despite her exhaustion. You suggested eating out at Grillbys, but she told you that the establishment is closed; that fiery bartender will have to take part in the patrols.

She showed you a picture of him in his Captain’s uniform. With his helmet on, he’s literally a burning hot piece of armour. No wonder nobody recognized him.

You thus had a simple meal of buttered snails with macaroni. After your dinner, you practiced your time magic under Mom’s supervision.

It felt natural to you despite learning it only just a day ago. Remember point A, walk to point B, revert to point A. Rinse and repeat.

“You’re a natural at this, Frisk!” Mom commented.

You grinned back.

Then you started to think. Maybe by tomorrow, or the day after, you could try to do this ‘Marking’ thing you kept hearing about.

You retired for the night at the usual time. At about two in the morning, you got up to use the washroom.

A rush of droplets pattered on the shingles of your house. It’s a sound you’ve not heard in a long while.

Wait.

You dashed towards the window and pulled the curtain aside.

It’s raining. That only meant one thing:

Spring is coming.

Here you thought it’s still so far away.

You spotted an odd shadow walking within view of your window. It’s huge. There's something protruding from the top of its head.

Are those horns…?

It’s Dad?!

When you took a closer look, you realised that it really was Dad. He stared at your house in a great longing.

Then he began walking down the path that led to Mount Ebott.

Your gut feeling warned you that something isn’t right.

Not right at all.

Again, you put your sneaking skills to use. You equipped your warm clothes, raincoat, and inched down to the entrance of your home.

The rain got heavier. A coat won’t be enough, so you grabbed an umbrella from the stand.

Then, just when you were about to strap on your boots…

“Where are you going, my child?”

Crap. Mom caught you red-handed, complete with her famous Mom-squint.

“I know you’re up to something, Frisk.”

Since she’s here, you told her that you saw Dad from your bedroom. He stared at the house before walking towards the mountain.

“…I see. It’s dangerous to go out alone in this weather. I’ll accompany you.”

Her statement surprised you. Won’t Mom try to keep you home?

She smiled back. “Well, you have that distinctive fire in your eye. You’re determined to follow Asgore no matter what I say.”

You chuckled back. That’s Mom alright. She knows your habits.

Mom hurried to put on her raincoat. Once she pulled up the hood, she took the umbrella for herself. She then held your hand.

The both of you set out into the rainy darkness together.

You and Mom followed the soft light of Dad’s magical embers. Each orb of fire served as lanterns for the long journey ahead. The both of you always walked a fair distance behind, though. Not too far so you couldn’t see Dad, and not too close that he would notice.

Rainclouds meanwhile blocked any sources of celestial nightlight. The downpour melted the snow into slush, mixing with the dirt to become slippery mud.

Mom was right, it’s dangerous to go alone. In this weather, if it weren’t for her guiding hand, you would have already slipped and tripped.

Thank god for Mom!

The winds blew the sky’s tears all over you and your mother. The umbrella couldn’t shield you from it all. Cold seeped into your bones. It’s frigid.

You thus inched closer to her, hoping to find some warm relief in her furry body. Alas, her damp raincoat prevented you from doing so.

Dad continued his stride through the rain. He didn’t wear a raincoat nor did he carry an umbrella. Only His Royal Highness’ cape concealed his standard floral Surface-wear from direct contact with the raindrops.

He’s been down since Sans rejected his apology. You could guess as much, but to see him so dejected right before you… was just plain heartbreaking.

Mom whispered to you, “Are you alright, my child?”

You nodded despite a slight shiver.

“If you need me to carry you, just let me know.”

You thanked Mom, but you’ll be fine. At least you hope so.

There’s someone you need to stay strong for. Besides, you’ve survived worse colds.

After what seemed like forever, you witnessed Dad head into the Underground.

Why did he go back there at this hour?

Your anxious grip tightened around Mom’s hand.

Drenched from head to toe, Dad left behind a trail of cold regrets.

Dammit Frisk, this is not the time to make witty imagery. There’s something wrong with Dad, but you couldn’t tell what or why.

He went to the throne room. Despite the change of seasons, the cave shielded it from the extreme weather outside. There, the golden flowers bloomed eternal.

Then.

He lifted his trembling arms high over his head.

“No…!” Mom muttered.

You wanted to ask why, but it’s too late.

Dad conjured up a giant ball of white fire: an artificial sun. A blast of hot air soon slammed on your entire being. You could feel the damp coldness evaporate in just a blink.

The flowers around Dad wilted and dried. Their papery leaves and flowers then kicked off the ground from the sheer might of his magic. Those that touched his flames ignited like dry tinder.

Mom launched her own fireball at Dad. It knocked him off his feet, like the time when she saved you. His magic dissipated as he tumbled at the wall.

“Oof!” Dad’s eyes spun. “T-Toriel?”

You ran up to him. In bewilderment, he muttered: “Frisk? Why are you here?”

Mom stormed right up to her lifelong mate and yelled: “You useless fool! Why would you try to incinerate them?! You love these flowers like your children!”

“I…” Dad turned his head away. “…Because you’re right. I am a useless fool.”

You don’t understand.

Grabbing his arm, you coaxed him to answer.

After a long silence, he confessed, “Doctor Alphys told me everything about the Ebott Goldenflowers. The ‘Cheaters of Death’. Why they did what they did in the ritual. Their violent history. The Great Ebott Razing. All of it.”

What is Dad talking about?

“Frisk,” he explained, “They’re spirit vessels. SOUL Eaters. They’ll store the essence of those who die near them, either as dust or as a corpse. The Determination Project wouldn’t have been a success had Asriel’s dust scattered on any other flower.”

Gasp. They’re DEMON catalysts?!

“You could say so. If… if I had to choose between my garden or my family, I’ll choose family. Destroying the Ebott Goldenflowers is the only way I can guarantee everyone’s safety. That includes you, Frisk. And …You too, Toriel.”

Mom dropped on her knees. A complex mix of frustration, grief, and compassion whirled within.

Tears streamed down his face. “I promised war. I promised vengeance. Yet I failed to stop Gaster on his mad quest. I agreed to raise Sans Serif as our Tactician. I did nothing, despite witnessing that young man’s growing alienation.”

“I could have talked to the young man when he borrowed my kitchen to cook for his brother. I could have found out more about his training. Gaster would listen if I told him to stop. Yet, I did nothing and let things spiral out of control…”

The Core Incident.

“Then there’s Asriel and Chara,” he sobbed. “If only I had paid more attention to our children. If only I noticed Chara’s troubles. None of this would have happened.”

“You can’t change the past,” said Mom. Her eyes turned damp.

Dad nodded. “That is why I’m taking the initiative for a better future. I have enough power to turn this very earth to ash, along with all the hidden seeds. Without those flowers we won’t need to worry about restless spirits anymore.”

“Asgore, that’s no better than the humans who ruined this land!” She said, “You have the best intentions for everyone, yet you always, ALWAYS make the stupidest decisions.”

“I know,” he replied, “I know that better than anyone.”

“Then let me make the hard choices!”

Dad lifted his head for the first time in this night.

Mom reached out her hand and squeezed his tight. “I’m sorry, Asgore. I’ve been too harsh on you. Yes, I was upset and I still think you made the worst decision. But, I shouldn’t have left you high and dry for all this time, too afraid to face reality. It’s too much for me to expect you to take over my duties overnight, yet I abandoned you when you needed me the most. And…”

“Honestly… with our survival at stake, I might have ended up conscripting Sans as our Tactician too.”

…You remembered Doctor Gaster’s tales. The other monster nations who depended solely on magic succumbed to the human armies. Mom, being the smart one, would know the dire need for strategy.

You tossed yourself on Dad and hugged him tight.

You told him that the flowers are innocent. They’re just vessels. Vessels are good or bad depending on what people put inside of them.

Sure, they caused grief once. But it’s thanks to them that the Barrier could be broken in the first place.

They saved Chara and Asriel too. If they didn’t exist, Mom and Dad would have lost their children for good.

The Magi gave them their own room.

Provided toys and chores so that they’ll never get bored.

Made new friends.

They’re happy despite lacking a true SOUL. They’re not suffering anymore.

‘So please, stop hurting yourself.’

That’s what you told Dad.

The great King of Monsterkind finally moved. He wrapped his massive arms around Mom. You’re in the middle of the hug sandwich.

It’s so warm. So nice.

“I’m sorry,” said Dad.

“I’m sorry too, dear,” Mom replied.

You tell Mom and Dad you’re sorry for all the bad times across each and every timeline.

The three of you huddled together in the garden of golden flowers what what seemed like an eternity.

You then heard a muffled, high-pitched ‘NNNNNNNG’ in the background. Mom and Dad loosened their grip in response to the mystery sound as well.

It’s Papyrus.

He’s trying his absolute best to not scream out of joy at the scene before him.

Bless that sweet skeleton.

Hmm… He’s carrying a ton of bags. They’re filled with… electronic equipment?

Mom being Mom, said: “You have permission to respond.”

Papyrus squealed at the top of his ribs: “THIS IS THE MOST TOUCHING MOMENT OF MY LIFE!”

Nah, Papyrus. He’ll get more touching moments in the future.

You then asked him if all those bags were for Gaster’s grand fetch quest.

“YES INDEED! UNCLE GASTER WANTED TO STUDY SOMETHING VERY, VERY IMPORTANT. I OFFERED TO EXPLAIN, BUT HE’D RATHER SEE THE PAST FOR HIMSELF.”

How?

Papyrus scrunched his brows. It’s clear that he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. “SOMETHING ABOUT ‘PROJECTING WHAT I SEE ON A SCREEN’. MY POWERS ARE AWESOME, BUT TRYING TO RECREATE THE AWESOMENESS OUTSIDE OF THE VOID IS EXHAUSTING. EVEN FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS.”

“SO UNCLE GASTER THOUGHT OF A BRILLIANT PLAN. LET’S MAKE A MACHINE TO HELP ME!”

That explains the tech stuff. But, it doesn’t explain anything else. Mom, Dad, and you stared at each other.

“I…” Mom hesitated at first. “I’m actually curious. If it’s something that would help Papyrus, I doubt it’ll be dangerous. But is it wise to let him make another contraption?”

“Gaster is a new man, Toriel,” said Dad. “I trust his aid.”

You nodded to Mom. Remember the night when you almost missed your curfew? He taught you how to do math, along with a few other things. You’re certain that he’s a stable individual on the path to redemption.

Mom smiled. “Alright then. Papyrus, when will this machine be ready?”

His right Eye lit up orange as he took a peek into the possible future. “OH! UNCLE GASTER WILL FINISH THE JOB ONCE I DELIVER THIS BATCH. I CAN SEE YOU’RE ALL THERE TOO.”

Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!