Everyone stared at the screen without a single commentary. You’re viewing things that had happened, and yet they’re still uncharted realms.
The sun was shining.
The birds were singing.
In days like these, a silent confrontation goes unnoticed.
Two prominent people faced each other by a lake of water lilies.
One, the Red Sage.
The other, his murderer.
This scenario took place after the Sealing.
The Red Sage wore his guise: a wizard’s cloaked garb of black fabric, decorated in elaborate scarlet embroidery. A painted wooden mask hid his skeletal face from the humans. Wherever he walked, he carried a magic staff.
As for the Genocider, he-- she-- they donned the warrior’s gear of that era. Of all their equipment, the spear looked the newest. Most likely granted as a gift for their ‘heroic’ deeds. Bearing the emblem of a bolt of lightning, it’s none other than the original Gungnir itself.
The Red Sage’s clothes fluttered against the breeze.
“Congratulations,” so said the wizard. “The world is now free from the threat of monsters. Minstrels sing of how the kingdom’s mightiest reign victorious: you and I, at the front lines, the symbol of might and magic combined.”
“A great accolade for your career, is it not?”
An undercurrent of spite laced his every word.
Undyne whistled. “Holy crap, that guy BURNS! Who is that anyway?”
“The true founder of the Magus Association,” said Cenna. “Yeah. You don’t wanna mess with the old Mezil either.”
“Wait, what?”
You explained that Mezil Thyme was named after a nobleman from House Berendin. Very important figure for the ancients.
“This is getting weird. And confusing,” she remarked.
Agreed. That’s why you decided to just call him on a surname basis from now on.
The Genocider said: “I know what you are, creature.”
Wow, racist sentiments right off the bat.
The man of House Berendin huffed at the statement. “May I ask how you arrived at such a conclusion?”
“You can’t hide from the wind. They blow right through.”
Sans looked down on his own non-existent belly. “Can’t deny that. Remember our first summer storm?”
Yeah. It’s the wet-dog syndrome. Sans’ apparent ‘chubbiness’ was all due to his fluffy clothes. Nothing to do with his actual weight. When drenched, he’s about as bony as Papyrus.
The Red Sage huffed. Glowing crimson eyes shifted towards the human. “Observant. I suppose that’s how you’ve survived all those impossible scenarios. Or is that truly the case?”
“What’s your scheme?” the human asked. “Bones never recall their real selves. What makes you different?”
“The same reason why you stand apart from other humans, mercenary,” answered the Lich. “Those with the Keys of Fate preserve their sense of self no matter where the cosmos turns. I was the previous wielder, therefore I am who I am.”
Keys of Fate?
What?
“I think he’s talking about your ability to time-travel,” Sans explained.
Dad blinked in confusion. “Isn’t that man… the mysterious skeleton who helped us? He appeared out of nowhere and in rags. Yet, he’s highly educated.”
Gaster explained, “Liches reanimated from Red SOULS keep their human minds and identity. My father witnessed it first hand. The Red Sage -- Lord Berendin -- requested secrecy in exchange for his assistance.”
“That explains why he didn’t return to us…”
“Your Majesty,” Gaster bowed before Dad. “I apologize in my father’s stead.”
“Oh no, it’s quite alright. I remember The Sage as a kind and genuine man. Considering the circumstances of our times, keeping his identity a secret was the most considerate action.”
The Genocider furrowed their brows, ready to reach for their weapons on the first sign of danger. “Is this about revenge?”
“Hmph, revenge.” He huffed loud and clear. “The most pointless of all endeavours. Justice takes shape in many ways. I need not partake directly in it.”
“Mercenary,” he continued, “I know why you ended my previous life. I had heard of your deeds before I turned back the seasons. Valiant. Swift. The people sang praises of your name for years. I commend those efforts. If I lost my career on the decision of others, I'd be just as irate. But…”
“Have you ever wondered why our countryside was plagued with bandits to begin with?”
The human asked back, “What do you mean?”
“It is as I anticipated: you lack foresight. Perhaps your deeds secured the lands for a year or two, but soon enough another criminal will terrorize the citizens once more.”
”Tsk, that’s rich coming from a noble bastard,” the human snapped back. “I risked my life and limb to squash those criminals! Lost many good partners. Friends. Family. And you just made their sacrifices pointless with just the snap of a finger!”
“You posh lords never understand the hardships of the common and the poor. All you care about are riches! You’re the real criminal in this picture!”
The Red Sage replied, “Well then, tell me what do I gain from the prevention of a massive flood?”
”The preservation of your lands.”
“Who lives there?”
“Your slaves.”
“Is it wrong for me, as their master, to protect and nurture those under my charge? The peasantry may be ‘slaves’ by the standards of society, but I do not treat them as such.”
“My wealth did not come from exorbitant taxes. They come from wise management and hard work. I did not lord over my people: I cooperated with them.”
It’s clear that the apparent ‘hero’ in the picture refused to believe. Berendin sighed and shook his head.
“‘Hero’, tell me. After my death, who took over my lands? What did they do? What happened in the years that passed in my absence?”
The Genocider couldn’t answer, instead he replied, “I had left the kingdom by then.”
“Very well. Let me summarize with this: the new nobility in charge did nothing to prevent a massive flood that wiped out entire towns. Not even an evacuation plan to warn and lead the people to higher ground.”
“It is as you had said: most nobles don’t know the hardships of those beneath their feet. That family was led by a fool who lacked the wisdom and education to manage his own household, let alone handle a disaster.”
“Bereft of their homes, purpose, and assistance, the survivors of the flood flocked to the cities for hope. Many succumbed to a pitiful beggar’s existence. Many more resorted to crime: thievery, swindling, banditry, what have you.”
“Corruption and poverty: those are the true roots of many ills. Kill as many as you like. But if you don’t resolve the source, the problem will perpetuate forever.”
“I used my Keys of Fate to ensure that my people do not starve. Record the weather, anticipate attacks, device emergency procedures, decide trade routes, build economies to provide jobs, and so much more.”
“Whenever a mistake happens, I take note and eventually turn back time. Sometimes that meant reliving whole years of my life again and again. What have you done with your power, mercenary?”
The human stood firm, replying without hesitation: “I fought to rescue victims from the hands of the wicked!”
You swear that you saw a light of anger fired up in those crimson eyes. Berendin pointed his staff towards the looming heights of Mount Ebott.
“By waging war against whole families?!” he yelled. “Someone's father, mother, sister, brother, cousin, lost forever in your hands!”
The human scoffed: “Typical convert talk. If we don’t subdue them first, those monsters will destroy our families in time!”
The Sage snapped back: “If a possibility is enough reason for you to condemn an entire nation, where do you draw the line? What will your next excuse be? Religion? Race? Culture? Ideology? O Great Hero, are all your enemies mere ‘monsters’ to you?”
Instead of answering with an eloquent defense, the warrior turned their back against the wizard.
“You talk too much,” They replied. “I’ll show my way through deeds and action. You noblemen can keep the podium chatter to yourselves.”
Humanity’s mightiest left the lakeside. Though they kept a cool front, their hands shivered ever so slightly.
The playback ended there.
You did not regret renaming this fella ‘Genocider’.
Undyne tensed up in deep conflict. You asked her why.
“That Genocider dude,” she said, “I like their style. I mean, I would have just stormed off too. That wizard won’t shut up and he’s getting on my nerves. But. There’s something… wrong.”
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Angry Doctor Gaster in three, two, one--
“Ugh, Captain Undyne!” he exclaimed right on cue. “I cannot believe you discarded the Red Sage’s wisdom in the same manner as that human! What good are heroic deeds if the citizens drown in poverty?”
Mom nodded with a low, monotone hum. “Wise is certainly how I’d describe him. I remember the times when the Sage proposed many detailed plans to me. We’d revise them together plenty of times.”
The usual Undyne would bark back.
This time, she clenched her fists with a lowered head.
“Hey squirt,” She's talking to you. “You’re this time-travelling superweapon, right?”
The Living Victory? Yes.
“That means you remember everything, correct?”
Everything related to the Underground itself, at least.
Pointing her finger at the screen, Undyne asked: “Did I ever screw up like that jerk?”
You’re not sure how to answer.
“C’mon Frisk. Punk. Nerd. Be brutally honest. I can take it. I’m strong on the inside too.”
You curled your lips inward, but in the end you gave in to her request.
You told her that she became Empress Undyne. Described her iron-fisted rule set to wage war against humans. How exactly she’s planning to do that? You don’t know, since you lost contact with reality after a certain point.
Undyne’s head fins drooped in a combination of shock, disbelief, and horror.
“It can’t be,” she muttered. “ I… I did that? No way! B-but the squirt remembers everything--”
Alphys tried to comfort her. She’s in denial as expected. You wouldn’t believe you’re capable of destroying the Underground either, yet it happened.
“Mind if I have a word?” said Sans.
Undyne glared at him. “Better not make me regret that.”
“Heh, I’ll take that as a yes. Welp,” he shrugged. “Most people think the best of themselves, y’know. They see a wrong and they say ‘nah, I’m never gonna do that’.”
“But we’re all a product of circumstance. I’m aware of all the paths I could possibly take, both good and bad. It’s one of the many reasons why I call myself a piece of trash.”
“If someone walked up to me and said, ‘Sans, you’re terrible’ I’d just agree. Can’t deny a cold, hard fact.”
Her eye-narrowing intensified, “So, you knew I was going down the drain. And you did nothing about it?”
“Would you listen to me?” Sans asked back.
The cringing intensified. That there’s a definite checkmate and she’s smart enough to notice.
Sans chuckled. “Hey, chill. Paps steered you back to the straight and narrow, right? If it weren’t for that silly besties date, you wouldn’t have realised that humans value kindness.”
Hearing his name, Papyrus dropped his jaw. “SANS, ARE YOU SAYING THAT I SAVED UNDYNE FROM HERSELF?!?!”
“Apparently.”
Oh em gee. The Great Papyrus did something great and he didn’t even realise it.
“I JUST GAVE THEM THE INCENTIVE! IT’S THEIR WONDERFUL CHEMISTRY THAT PREVAILED IN THE END!”
Just as planned?
“JUST AS PLANNED, NYEH HEH HEH!”
Typical Papyrus Logic right there.
Your happiness was marred by the memories of the time you betrayed Undyne. They don’t exist anymore, but the consequences that played out will stick to you forever.
Undyne gripped Papyrus’ shoulders and gave it some good shakes. “PAPYRUS! Show me the rest of this Genocider’s life! I wanna see where they end up!!!”
“WHOA! WHOA! I CAN’T ACTUALLY SEE YOU WITH THE VISORS ON.”
Gaster’s right hand inflicted a sharp slap on Undyne’s wrist. “Helvetica disapproves of your overexcited rough handling of Papyrus. I agree with her, for once.”
“O-oh, right. Sorry.” She released her grip as if she held a hot potato.
You let Undyne know that Papyrus had to go to the selection screen to pick the next scene anyway. We’ll reach there sooner or later.
Papyrus picked up something, but it’s labelled as ‘???’.
What's with the question marks?
“I DON’T KNOW. BUT IT FEELS IMPORTANT.”
Cenna said, “Careful, Cinnamon Roll. Don’t dive too deep.”
After a nod of acknowledgement, he selected the unknown label.
This vision was… different. It’s not quite stable and it’s missing much of the surroundings.
There’s a fort wedged in a mountain valley. It had all the accompanying flags and banners hanging on the front. It seems like you’re looking at a border checkpoint.
You heard the galloping of horses from a distance. After a while, they materialized into view.
It’s the Red Sage again. He brought along a squad of knights from the castle. Robed human Magi remained on the back lines, protected by the armoured troops.
The fort’s opposing archers hurried into positions and drew their bows. Witnessing those signs of aggression, the Red Sage raised his hand and ordered everyone to stop dead in their tracks.
It’s a precarious situation for both flesh and bone.
“What’s the meaning of this?” He hollered. “Your nation requested aid to apprehend a wanted criminal! Why are you stopping us?”
“They don’t need you anymore.”
Lo and behold, The Genocider stepped forward to greet his old nemesis.
“You…” Berendin muttered. All he needed was just one word to summarize his feelings. Raising his voice again, he questioned: “What role did you play now, mercenary?”
The people of the fort shouted back.
“Show some respect, warlock!”
“How dare you degrade our saviour!”
“We’re under threat of sorcery thanks to ilk like you!”
This isn’t looking good.
Berendin’s loyal men got riled up, but their lord had them stay back with nothing more than a hand signal.
The Genocider continued to observe from his high vantage point.
“I see,” said Berendin, “You had converted an entire nation to your cause in such a short time. Swift, like a bolt of lightning. Well, I’m not here to reopen old wounds. Please allow us to apprehend the criminal. We will not meddle with further affairs.”
The human replied, “You want her back so much? Fine.”
Upon command, the folk of the fort tossed mysterious sacks over the balcony. They landed on the ground with a slight clatter.
You could see from the knights’ expressions that they had expected the worst. Berendin allowed some of his men to bring the bags close. All the while, the army kept a vigilant eye on the archers.
Once they hauled it back to safer lines, they untied the sacks posthaste.
The contents were filled with grey ash and charred bones.
Then there's the skulls.
…Multiple intact skulls. Human. Some smaller than the rest.
You heard soft gasps from the monster family around you. Mom tried to shield your eyes from the horrifying sight, but you let her know you’re okay. History isn’t always child-friendly. You’re prepared for this.
In the end, she just held you tight.
Enraged and mortified, the Sage yelled at humanity’s hero, “What have you done?!”
He knew the answer. Only he had yet to confirm it from the source itself.
So the Genocider replied: “That foul witch toyed with human lives. All those ‘experiments’ in the name of ‘science’? Sheer glorified horrors: torture, I say. She and her heathen family thus paid the ultimate price.”
There was an uproar amongst the knights and Magi. Not even the steady Red Lich could hold back his disgust.
“Including the children?!” The Sage exclaimed.
Calm yet determined, the human replied: “Of course. The king had ordered ALL witches and warlocks to be burned at the stake, along with their knowledge. Only luxurious posh folk like you would start late. Fifteen years old? Hmph. So slow. I performed my first heroic deeds when I was ten.”
“Lord Berendin.” The Genocider pointed an accusatory finger at The Sage. ”The introduction of magic is your greatest sin against mankind. Never forget that! Consider this a warning to you and your ilk!”
You saw those gloved skeletal hands squeeze the reins of his horse. They trembled, they quaked. Yet he still kept his heart in check. One wrong action, and he’d lose the lives of many he held dear.
“…I see.” he said, “You’ve not only grown in eloquence, but also in madness. Very well. Men, retreat!”
“But Lord Berendin--” a knight objected.
“Please remember, Captain Eldin. We’re here to retrieve someone, not to start a war. That whole kingdom is against us now. I will not lose any more of us tonight.”
They collected the remains and left the fort. The recording ended there.
Cenna took off her hat. Grim, she explained, “What you’ve just witnessed is the beginning of a long history of witch-hunts. Fair trial? As if. You could get accused for any damn reason. Hell, I’ve read that some of the cases involved making painkillers or asking for divorce.”
You asked Papyrus if he could check out the criminal’s experiment, but your sister denied it.
She warned: “Don’t look there. It’s ugly. Ain’t safe for viewing by any standard. Though, I can tell the details. The suspect was dubbed the ‘Wisteria Witch’. Her research dealt with Psychia: what makes them tick, how they gain power, and how that power can be transferred.”
Ding! Somehow, her statement raised a flag of interest in Papyrus’ review menu. Everyone stared at the word ‘Power’.
At the corner of your eye, you noticed Sans drilling a glare into Cenna.
“Tooootally was not expecting that, folks,” she said. “I was trying to satiate the Cinnamon Roll’s curiosity so he didn’t need to dive there. Not activate a pathway.”
Does that mean Papyrus had a hunch? All attention now fixated on the Orange Seer.
He paused for quite a while. It lasted long enough to put everyone on the edge of their seats.
Alphys peeped, “Papyrus? Are you alright?”
Then he finally replied: “I WONDER IF THE GENOCIDER UNDERSTOOD WHAT THE WISTERIA WITCH TRIED TO DO.”
“What do you mean, bro?” Sans asked. He had to.
“CAN THEY READ?”
Strange question. Why wouldn’t they know how to read?
Doctor Gaster explained: “In that era, most of the common human populace were illiterate.”
“That’s true,” said Mom. “On the other hand, every citizen in the Dreemurr Nation could read and write. We’d be in quite a bind if we forgot the solution to our puzzles.”
Dad nodded to Mom’s statements, adding, “That’s why our forefathers made basic education compulsory for everyone.”
She chuckled a bit. “I think the Sage was oft ashamed that his people couldn’t do something so simple. That’s the vibe I got.”
Not many could read. But what if the Genocider could comprehend the witch’s notes before their inevitable destruction?…
Sans continued your hypothesis: “…It means they had exclusive knowledge of forbidden magic.”
“HOW DO I CHECK?” asked Papyrus.
“Set your mind on the fella and press ‘Y’. It should bring up that person’s skills and stats.”
That Genocider dude had a ton of skills. Most of them were combat-orientated as you expected. There’s not a weapon that they can’t use.
After scrolling to the letter ‘R’, it confirmed the hunch: they could read the land’s main script with maximum proficiency. They had some ability to read other languages and secret codes as well.
Sans snorted. “Heh, this skill is vital for their level of spy work. Good call there, Paps.”
Papyrus nodded, yet he remained silent.
Oh no.
That’s not a good sign.
You told Papyrus that it’s okay to stop here if he’s feeling uncomfortable.
Instead, he replied, “NO. I WILL PRESS FORWARD.”
In quite a literal manner too. Selecting the ‘Power’ option sent the visions scrolling forward toward the relative future.
Scenes of the Genocider’s life rolled by in the background as a slideshow. How they rose in fame as they rewound time to counteract adversity.
It sounds great on paper. But as Berendin had foretold…
Humanity was humanity’s own worst enemy.
Friends? Family? Society?
No one could be trusted. Treachery always lurked beneath the shadows; it’s kill or be killed.
One word, one action.
That’s all it takes to twist fate toward betrayal: for noble men to become murderers.
Sometimes it’s the result of lies from an opposing camp.
Sometimes it’s the result of circumstance and error.
Sometimes it’s the result of trials made by the Genocider themselves.
Heart-broken by the pitfalls of treason, they responded in the only way they knew: elimination. Once their traitor was either dead or distanced, time marched on.
Only regret remained.
The years took their toll on the Genocider’s human mortal body. They aged, and with age came illness. On the brink of death, they settled in a small village at the foot of Mount Ebott, right in Magi heartland.
There, they kept reading a selection of books as their health declined. A dotted text bubble appeared over their head.
Selecting it revealed plenty of complicated text that you don’t understand. That is, until they mentioned a seven-pointed star.
It’s all about magic.
“What the fuck?!” Undyne yelled, forgetting about Mom’s PG-13 language limit. “I thought they’re AGAINST magic!”
Sans tossed a casual glance. “Uh, ‘knowing is half the battle’? You studied humans via all that anime stuff too.”
“But--”
“If I’m in the Genocider’s shoes, I’d keep all those Magi books as trophies. Explain to others that the best way to kill a wizard is to know their arts. Their strengths. Their weaknesses.”
If you had a dollar for every time Sans checkmated Undyne, you’d have enough to put all Temmies through graduate school.
Why would the Genocider take such an action?
You had your answers in their final phase of life.
The human, now at their last moments of their life, rested on a stone seat. An airwell overhead let in the sunlit rays of light. It painted the illusion of divinity and fed the plants that grew at their feet.
They’re none other than Ebott Goldenflowers.
A teenaged boy dressed in white entered the chamber. He knelt at the feet of his supposed deity with a small lit lamp in his hand.
“My lord, I am here.” he said.
The Genocider started to speak. Their voice had grown weak compared to their speech against Berendin. Almost gentle despite their weary, apathetic state.
“You… have done well to be chosen. Take it as great honour for your family and our community. Now, I shall pass on all that I know. My skills. My secrets. And the most important of all, my true name.“
“Call upon it for power. Pray. That’s the privilege of the faithful. But beware, the witches and warlocks can twist this to their gain. You must never disclose your true name, and of all those who came before you.”
They placed a dry, wrinkled hand on top of the boy’s head.
“From now on you are ‘Persona’, the vessel of humanity’s god, bearer of the Keys of Fate.”
Huh. Funny that they used Berendin’s label in the end.
Upon that command, the Genocider’s Red SOUL then floated high overhead. It shattered into a million flakes, showering itself over the boy and the throne of golden flowers.
And thus the Gungnir came into existence…
The legendary hero bound themselves to their successor, like how Chara haunted you.