CHAPTER 4

"Well monster." The word was emphasized to imply that it was less of a noun, and more of a scourge. "I have to admit, you put up a better fight than the others. But I think it's time to move this along." The man slowly raised his arms out in front of him, once again filling the air with the hum of electricity. Unlike the skeleton, the magician was able to wield his magic dually. That would leave Sans at a significant disadvantage. All his years of training and he'd never managed to conjure anything with his right eye or hand. It really was a shame, it could have doubled his offensive power, but there was no use crying over 'what ifs.'

Silently, Sans readied his stance, preparing for what was to come.

The attack itself was actually quite beautiful. The beams of light snaked through the air, shinning bright and casting extravagant shadows upon the snow. With each bolt the man summoned, a multitude of smaller streams branched outward, its likeness similar to that of a flower. Unfortunately getting too close to said flower would have deadly consequences.

Sans slid sideways, narrowly missing the assault. One hit from that thing and it was game over. Apparently the man was done giving him the go around and things were about to get serious.

The real battle finally begins.

The light was blinding. The magician continued his onslaught of energy, both offensively and defensively. Whenever Sans directed his attacks at the man, he simply obliterated the obstacle in a spray of bone fragments and dust. But the skeleton remained determined, dodging artfully and summoning an endless supply of weapons to counter. Neither of the two would give an inch, each avoided the others' attacks by the narrowest of margins.

Sans grit his teeth in an unhappy smile. The magic attacks were incredibly difficult to predict. They didn't travel in straight lines, but rather curved and twisted erratically through the air. Sans suspected that even the magician couldn't fully control it. Most likely he was simply aiming in the skeleton's direction and hoping for the best.

Sans wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he was sure that he could feel the sweat starting to make its way down the side of his face…

….

Frisk slowly rose to a side sitting position. The pain was intense, but their concern for their friend was even more so. They'd been lingering in a near-catatonic state for a few minutes, but now their mind was starting to clear.

Sans was fighting some sort of mage or sorcerer; a human capable of using magic. They hadn't even known that was possible. What's more, it was all the skeleton could do to keep the man at bay.

Frisk's mind whirred with activity, considering their options. Fight or flee? Those always seemed to be the two choices allotted to the human. From what they had gathered, Sans had been unsuccessful in his attempts to utilize his shortcut. That would make fleeing significantly more difficult, but despite the shrapnel in their hip, Frisk figured they would be able to walk if it came to that. However there was no way the human would abandon their friend, who'd refused to leave them in their time of need.

Likewise, fighting, was out of the question. The child was an unimpressive combatant at the best of times, let alone beaten and battered as they were. They'd only get in Sans' way.

That left only one option.

Frisk fumbled for the phone in their pocket.

With the magician locked in battle, he would be unable to engage Frisk in combat. His choices would be limited to the ones Frisk had been confined to during their adventures underground. And fortunately for Frisk, there was no option to engage additional opponents mid-battle. To do so would require the man to flee from Sans, which seemed an unlikely thing for him to do. And even if he did, Sans would most certainly reengage him.

Opening their contacts, Frisk clicked furiously as they searched for Toriel's name. A glimmer of hope lit within their heart as they hovered their finger over the call button.

And froze.

What exactly did Frisk hope to achieve? They'd seen this all before. A bloodthirsty human hell bent on destroying everything in their path, eliminating the defenseless creatures with ease. During these runs the majority of monsters had died within a few hits, and that had been against some kid with a knife. This man had obviously spent a lifetime perfecting the art of killing.

The carnage flashed before Frisk's eyes in an array of horror. Dust, dust, and more dust. Cries, pleas for help, and of course, the laughter.

They don't stand a chance. The realization hit them like a ton of bricks. Frisk's hands began to shake. Calling for help would only ensure a greater number of casualties.

But they couldn't do nothing. They had to do something. But what? What? The only two who'd managed to stand against the genocidal child had been Sans…

…and Undyne.

They slammed their finger on the call button. The fish warrior fighting the magician alone would be risky, but if she joined forces with Sans…

The dagger speared through the phone, dislodging the device from their hand and slicing horizontally through the outer portion of Frisk's ear as it went.

"And what do you think you're doing?" The man's question sent chills running down their spine. "You don't think you're calling for backup now do y-" He was cut off by a barrage of bones meant to impale him where he stood, forcing him to leap back to safety.

"Nu-uh." Came the skeleton's low voice. "You're dealing with me. No need to involve the kid." Two blasters flanked the skeleton threateningly, daring the man to make a go for Frisk.

The cloaked man shot Sans a venomous look before shrugging indifferently. "Be that as it may, from the way things are going, I'm confident I can deal with the two of you simultaneously."

Before either of the two could reply, an eerily familiar sensation took hold of Frisk, and with the characteristic flicker of black and white, their soul was summoned forth.

The look of shock on Sans' face mirrored Frisk's. "H-how? That's not possible!" They'd only ever heard of monsters calling forth another's soul. Likewise, only a human with an incredibly powerful soul could summon their own with the intent to engage a monster in battle.

How strong did a human have to be to draw out the soul of another human?

"And yet…" The man mused, not needing to finish the sentence; the situation spoke for itself. "I think you're seriously underestimating the capabilities of magicians."

Sans' expression was bleak. "I think you're right." He agreed unhappily.

And just like that, Frisk was thrown into the fray.

The child was lifted off their feet and went careening sideways, barely managing to avoid a bolt of electricity. They slid to a halt, once again behind Sans.

The skeleton knew he wouldn't be able to attack and dodge for the both of them, so instead he decided to up his offenses in hopes of limiting the magician's mobility. Six Gaster Blasters circled around the perimeter of the battlefield, firing consecutively. Likewise, bones continued to catapult through the air and erupt from the earth under the man's feet. What attacks the man was able to get off, Sans would avoid while dragging the kid along with him, always keeping them a safe distance behind.

…

As Frisk watched the change in battle dynamics they noticed something was different.

Something was wrong.

At first glance it seemed as though Sans' overwhelming firepower far outmatched the magician's, keeping him on the defensive. But coming from someone who had become intimately familiar with the monster's fighting style, the problem was all too clear.

Sans was slowing down.

The change in strategy had come at a price. Sans' shoulders heaved with the effort of him catching his breath, and he had to run his sleeve across his forehead frequently to keep the sweat out of his eyes. The vast amount of energy required to perform his techniques had always been Sans' Achilles heel, and now it was going to cost them. "Ok kid." He called over his shoulder suddenly, panting heavily. "New plan. I want you to go ahead and flee. Get as far away from here as you can."

Frisk shook their head resolutely.

"You need to get somewhere safe. I can handle this on my own, trust me."

He's lying. He knows he can't keep this up much longer, and when he finally gives out…"No Sans, I'm staying right here."

"Kid-"

"I'm not leaving you!"

The monster dodged another bolt of lightning, dragging the kid with him by the soul. "You're not doing me any favors, kid! We both know it only takes one slip up for me to bite the dust, and if that happens-"

Sans was cut off as he spun back around, coming face to face with the magician.

He'd used a short cut.

With a swift kick to the side of his head, the magician sent Sans flying, landing with a crack as his head bounced off the frozen earth. Faintly, the monster registered Frisk cry out his name in dismay. Please, just run kiddo.

He slowly opened an eye and glanced at his stats. The kick had taken out a fifth of his HP. Between his frequent naps that continued to raise his health beyond its max capacity, combined with his renewed hope, the monster could actually withstand certain attacks it seemed.

Sans raised a bony hand to the right side of his face, instantly feeling the jagged cracks that made their way from the bottom of his eye down through his cheek. But he didn't have time to dwell on the injury. Still on his hands and knees, the skeleton raised his left arm skyward. But before he could finish the motion, the magician once again delivered a swift kick that sent the monster skidding through the slush and mud and into the base of a nearby tree.

Half covered by the snow dislodged from the branches on impact, Sans waved his arms wildly, digging in an attempt to free himself. Meanwhile his eye glowed and three blasters appeared behind the man. He met their blasts with some of his own, creating a small explosion in response that obliterated the triage.

The monster, gasping and stumbling, had just staggered to his feet in time to receive a fist to his chest. He flew backwards, landing a short distance from Frisk.

This time, he didn't get up.

"Sans!" Frisk cried, leaping to their feet and running to his side. They shook the monster by the shoulders, but his eyes remained dark and lifeless. "Get up! You have to get up!" Upon closer inspection, a decent sized crack had been left in the monster's sternum to match the ones on his face and head. Frisk gathered the monster's jacket in their hands, pulling them so that they were almost face to face. "GET UP!"

Sans' eyes snapped open. His white pupils darted from side to side, quickly taking in their surroundings. It wasn't long before he'd reoriented himself. "Seriously kid, it's over, you gotta run." He didn't motion to get up.

Frisk grasped the Skeleton under his arms. "Then you have to come with me!" The monster wasn't particularly heavy, but Frisk was small for their age and not particularly strong either.

"I'm sorry kid, I can't. I can't move. I'm spent." To prove his point, he attempted to move his limbs, which shook violently from the effort before falling back to his side.

The child looked at their friend in despair. He'd only come to keep Frisk safe, and now the skeleton would pay for his generosity with his life. Gritting their teeth together, the human heaved the skeleton through the snow. "Then I'll carry you! GET UP!" The child practically shrieked, tears streaming freely down their face.

This feeling of desperation was different compared to the desperation Frisk had felt during their adventures underground. Without a reset button, every decision they made would be final. Every action unchangeable.

And every death permanent.

"PLEASE, GET UP!" Frisk wailed.

Sans tried again. Gripping the child by the shoulders he half stood, half climbed to his feet. The kid had made their position on the subject quite clear; they were in this together, for better or for worse. And Sans couldn't have it being said that his laziness had gotten the child killed, Toriel would never forgive him. "You really are stubborn kid. You know that?" His voice wavered at his attempt at lightheartedness, but the pain in his expression was undeniable.

Frisk supported the monster as best as they could, dragging him with all their strength. The two must have made quite a sight. Still wounded from their earlier bout, Frisk had a limp and found that they couldn't fully raise their left arm. This made their strides awkward and clumsy, but slow going made for going all the same.

Meanwhile, the magician had been effectively eliminating the remaining Gaster Blasters at Sans' disposal. He stood among a field of shattered bones, dust filling the air in thick clouds. He scanned the clearing to assess his work and nodded approvingly.

The two had barely managed to flee more than a few yards before he was upon them.

"Running away? I thought we'd already established that wasn't going to work." Turning on reflex, Frisk stumbled and fell, taking the skeleton with them. They landed face up in the snow, giving them a perfect view of the shadow looming above them.

Out of guns, Sans weakly rose his left hand…

…only for the magician to slam a boot on his forearm, snapping his radius in half.

The pain must have been excruciating judging from the monster's scream. Clutching his arm, he fell into a heap on the ground. Frisk stared blankly, so overwhelmed with grief and despair that they had come full circle and could hardly feel anything at all. They slowly settled back on their knees, eyes wide and vacant, before turning back to face the man.

They'd lost.

Frisk gathered the skeleton into their arms in slow, uncoordinated movements. The gesture, though meant to be protective, was a wasted effort. "I'm sorry… Kid." Sans muttered, still clutching his arm.

"No Sans." Frisk said, their voice devoid of emotion, tears dripping down their cheeks. "I'm…the one… who's sorry."

"For what it's worth, you were quite formidable for a soul stealing freak." The magician chided, once again adjusting his gloves. "But trust me when I say you didn't stand a chance. I've been doing this since before you were born. After all…" The man leaned down until his face was only inches from Frisk's, eyes burning with crazed rage. "…I did play a role in the whole war and barrier business. I think I can handle some kid and a bag of bones."

Silence followed in the wake of the man's remark. "The war…?" Frisk managed, not understanding. "That's not…that happened centuries ago." Their shock gave way to hysteria. "You can't have been there! You can't! You're lying! It's impossible!" The weight of the situation finally set in; the two would die, and their friends would follow. And if the man could be believed, then at least six others like him existed.

Frisk's expedition seemed so trivial now. Monsters would be sealed back underground soon enough, and that was if they lived at all.

"IT'S NOT POSSIBLE! IT'S NOT POSSIBLE! IT'S NOT-"

The blade sliced Frisk from side to sternum.

...

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