Thanks go to Spencer the Gamer, Wingah, Zack Frost, 10burgers, Doctah Sawbones, Zillowzest, WhoWritesThisCrap, 2Strong2SignIn, Chara Moonstone, Astreum, Acoolnamme, and TiredWhiteMayge.
First of all, I'd like to thank you all for the Among Us jokes made either in the reviews or in my DMs. You are all funny and cool. But, in all seriousness, all the theories on who the mole might be really made me grin. Y'all really don't trust ANYBODY anymore, and I couldn't be happier.
To answer your question TiredWhiteMayge, Cter likes gen 1 as much as the next guy, but he is not a genwunner. Though all Pokemon games hold a special place in his heart, his favorite generations of Pokemon are Gen 3 and Gen 5. His favorite games are Alpha Sapphire and White version. :)
2Strong2SignIn, thanks so much for reading all this DoubleTale content I've made over the years in one sitting like a madlad! I'm glad you like the story so much, and your kind words about how I've improved really made me happy! I hope you continue to read and review, and I hope my many plans don't disappoint. :)
Now, then, without further adieu, onto chapter 60!
(Dear god I haven't had a 60 chapter long story since Just Another Stone, I am old-)
Disclaimer: I do not own Undertale.
"Who are you?! What are you?!"
Well, this was a shitty situation. Anarchy'd been distracted. Somewhere in the walk out into the woods, he'd heard the dark whisper an interesting story to him. Nightmare Sans, the grimy little roach. He'd hatched some scheme and was in the midst of giving Predator and Gatherer the run around, all for the promise of Anarchy's location. Anarchy couldn't say he really gave two shits about that.
What he did care about was the fact that The Dark was trying to devour Lexi without his permission. However he might have felt about The Predator didn't matter, what mattered was that his worms had taken an invitation from someone other than himself to try and murder. And that pissed Anarchy off.
So while he was mindlessly chopping wood, in his head he was giving his Scorpion the order to go get his underlings in line. Manifesting the kaiju arachnid - especially half the multiverse away - took a good measure of focus. Really, Max was lucky Anarchy had seen that branch flinging towards him at all. Anarchy was the one who got the short end of the branch here; if he hadn't been distracted he coulda just caught the thing. Or, better yet, knocked it off course before Max's untrained eyes had noticed him.
But, above all things, Anthony favored himself an honest man. He'd never tried particularly hard to keep anything about himself a secret from his housemates. His concern wasn't keeping his darkness a secret, his concern was scaring the life out of Max. The INTEGRITY soul was a pretty simple man, after all. He lived in a regular world. Anarchy envied that, and he did not wish to take it from him. But, ask the truth and Anarchy will give it to you. So, he answered.
"... My full name is Anthony The Anarchist. And I am the most dangerous man alive."
Whatever Max wanted to know, he would learn.
Chapter 60: Good Friends
Or: An Honest To God Burden
"Anarchist..? Most dangerous man alive?" A pretty bold claim, saying that one was more dangerous than any other living person. Max would have been skeptical, if he hadn't just watched Anthony move faster than his eyes could register and regenerate a gaping hole in his forearm. There was cold sweat beading down his forehead, eyes trembling in their sockets as they looked upon the honest stare of The Anarchist. "What... What does that mean, exactly?"
"It means I'm stronger than anyone else. I'm sturdier than anyone else." Anarchy shifted his feet, turning around to look at Max. His expression did not change; it wasn't apprehensive nor was it malicious. Just a bland stare, as though he either didn't understand the gravity of his words or he didn't care. He lifted his arm, showing off the bloody hole in his sleeve and the perfectly healed skin beneath. "Doesn't matter what the injury is, it always heals. Doesn't matter who my enemy is, they always fall."
"Enemies..?" Again, Max found himself echoing Anarchy's words. He squinted with heavy confusion, the most basic concepts of this man's words eluding him. What enemies did Anarchy have? What battles had he waged? And, if these enemies always 'fell'... Who had Anarchy killed? Max swallowed with a dry mouth, suddenly very aware of the apathy in those scarlet eyes. Of course he'd always known Anthony was a looming, imposing man, but he'd also never seen him hurt a fly. He'd assumed, or at least hoped Anthony a gentle giant. And suddenly, he was very aware that not only was he physically capable of murder, but mentally capable as well. In fact, he had to assume 'they always fall' was Anthony's nice way of saying 'I always kill them'.
"I'm not a virtuous man, Max. Before I came to this farm I did a lot of terrible things." Anarchy blinked slowly. It made Max think about some factoid about cats he'd learned ages ago; to show other cats or a human they're not threatened around them, cats will blink slowly. Keeping their eyes shut for longer, he assumed, meant the felines didn't suspect whoever they were blinking at to strike when their guard was down, or didn't think it would matter if they tried. This thought kept Max very aware of what little threat he posed to a man like Anarchy, and what a massive threat Anarchy posed to him. "If you want every horrible detail I'll give it to you; I'm an honest guy. But the summary is that I've killed more people than either of us can count."
Max opened his mouth to talk, but no words came. He just stood there, stammering and sweating. His wide eyes did not blink, and Anarchy stared blandly into them. He could see the fear in Max's eyes; it didn't feel too pleasant to be looked at that way, but it was exactly what he expected. Nearly everyone looked at him like that to some degree. Finally, Max's voice creaked out of his throat. "W-... Why..?"
"Why?" This time Anthony was the one echoing. He tilted his head to the side, arching a curious brow at Max. His confusion only grew when he watched Max's jaw clench, his hands curl into fists. Anarchy hardly understood what about this revelation would elicit such a powerful response. What was Max's investment here, outside of the protection of his own life? Why would he bother feeling anything beyond fear in such a scenario?
"Why any of this! Why are you a murderer?! Why are you out here?! Why did you invite us out here?!" Rapid fire questions came the moment Max exploded. It was certainly an odd sight; for as long as Anthony had known Max, he'd known him as a reserved and calm man. Even when he seemed anxious or frustrated, Anarchy couldn't remember hearing him shout even once. Max didn't really register Anarchy's intrigued stare however, just continuing to demand answers from the most dangerous man alive. "And while we're at it, how the FUCK can you heal injuries like that AT ALL, let alone in seconds?!"
Anarchy hardly had a response. He just stared, quietly listening to Max's labored breathing. Watching the intensity of his stare, noting the INTEGRITY that shined in his eyes. Perhaps it was the trait of his soul that gave him the strength to stare The Anarchist in the eye and demand answers from him, the understanding of his own worth and the worth of all that he loved. Anarchy wondered if he had insulted that in some way, if that had brought about Max's anger. That didn't feel very good to know, he didn't want to hurt Max. That was precisely why he'd saved his life two minutes ago.
So, Anarchy offered the answer. He held his hand out towards Max, who instinctively leaned back. He watched Anarchy like one might watch a poisonous bug, ready to react to any stinger that might dart his way. But there was no stinger, only a scarlet light that manifested over Anarchy's palm. A gust of red energy blew back the grass at their feet with its gentle pulse, racing out over the ground and disappearing into the distance.
And Max's eyes slowly widened, a red light reflecting in them while grey shadows slipped across his face. He watched with growing shock as the soul Anarchy fearlessly displayed to him glowed and vibrated with power. Its right side was the color he had expected, a deep and vibrant red. In all Max's life he'd never meet a red soul, but the DETERMINATION trait was not unheard of, it was just rare.
It was the blackened left side of Anarchy's soul that threw him for a loop. There was no story book and no biology class that had ever warned him of some black soul, nor of a multicolored soul. So divided was The Anarchist that it was apparent in the culmination of his being, in all that he truly was. And when Max finally managed to pry his eyes off of this anomaly that Anarchy had presented him with and look him in the face again, he found a distinct change.
Anarchy's right iris had turned to the same obsidian color as the left half of his soul, and down his cheek it shed a single black tear. Max felt hairs rise on the back of his neck, he heard something shifting in every dark corner of the woods. He could feel heat rising from the soul outstretched to him, as if Anarchy was holding a bonfire in his palm. And all he could do was squint at him, silently repeating his question. Why?
"I am a murderer because this world tried to murder me." Emotionlessly The Anarchist blinked his heterochromia eyes, his expression not expressing a thing in spite of the madness his soul was radiating. Max could feel adrenaline pumping through his veins just from the sight of that twisted heart, he could hear its subtle influence, trying to whisper something to him... He decided he'd be better off not listening. Anarchy's voice drowned out the madness.
"And you are out here because I wasn't strong enough."
"Is there, something going on between you two..?"
Yes, Texty, I do in fact hate slice of life. Right about now I felt like I was in a suspect line, staring at the one way mirror and waiting to be confirmed as the criminal. I mean, what kinda question was that? How was I supposed to answer?! I didn't know if there was anything going on or not! Whatever interests I may have hypothetically possibly maybe had, I had no way of knowing if Chara returned them!
*You could always, I don't know... Use this as an opportunity to explain your feelings instead of being a psycho?
The day I get called a psycho by a nutjob like you-! I had to resist the urge to shoot my textbox a glare, my jaw tightening while I tried and failed at curbing my anxiety. Every second ticked by in slow motion, my heartbeat blocked out every other sound in the world. I liked to think I was a pretty smart guy, an 'intricate plan kinda guy' as it were. And when it came to talking, I used to possess a silver tongue. But, either a few years of honesty and genuine KINDNESS had made me a rusty liar, or my own conflicting emotions had turned my brain to mush.
*You have leveled mountain tops, nearly been choked to death and drowned in garbage sludge, fought demi-gods and reality erasing skeletons as well as the darkest parts of your own being. You put a bullet between my eyes. I don't understand what about this is so terrifying.
Yeah, an asswipe like you couldn't understand it! I stung irrationally, my eyes darting over to examine Chara's expression. Unfortunately, their own eyes had darted towards me at the same time, resulting in a horrifying instant of eye contact that made both of us look away from one another. Well, that confirmed it. They were waiting on me to answer just like I was waiting on them to answer. And judging from the look on their face they were just about as anxious as I was. But, why would they be anxious..? What were they worried about?
*I would take another bullet in my grey matter if it meant I didn't have to endure this.
Chara wanted me to answer first, but there was nothing I could say without risking grand repercussions. If by some miracle I managed to map out how I was feeling and explain that, at least on my side of things, there may be "something going on" - on the spot and with an audience - without tumbling violently over my own words and accidentally saying something stupid, I'd say it was pretty wishful thinking that Chara would feel the same way. I mean, they were amazing, and I was literally such a fuck up that the whole multiverse was upside down at least partially because of me.
*How does someone as important and powerful as you have this many insecurities?
So if I confessed and they didn't return my feelings, our entire friendship would come down like a very intricate house'a cards. There was no way on this earth either of us had the social skills to navigate around something so painfully awkward. But, if I denied feeling anything, said there was "not anything going on" between us, what if they did feel the same way?
*Ooooh my god.
If I lied and said we were just friends and nothing more while Chara felt otherwise, it would make them feel awful! I didn't wanna hurt their feelings like that! It'd another huge wrench in our friendship and another way to flip everything on its head. It'd be another brutal social situation that I would have no idea how to handle!
*And - dare I ask - what if you're honest about how you feel, and they feel the same way?
That thought made me wince. Sure, that should have been the best outcome. We both feel the same way about each other, stop being awkward morons, and get on with our lives. It'd be perfect. If not for one little thing: I didn't know if I had a life to get on with yet. My entire purpose in life right now was finding and stopping the most dangerous man alive. The Anarchist and whatever unholy creatures he commanded, I was going to have to fight him a second time.
I didn't have to worry about Chara when we fought Anarchy; I'd die before I let him take them away from me. And if I died, Anarchy would stop his killing. Return to whatever hole he'd crawled out of, or maybe just take a seat at the edge of the multiverse. Stare off into the nothing for the rest of eternity, or something unsatisfying like that. Chara would be safe no matter what, I'd stake my life on it. But if I died out there after taking things another step further with them, if I... If I somehow got them to love me, and then got killed and left them behind? I'd done a lot of terrible things in my short life, but I refused to add a sin like that to the list.
*If this, if that. This is why Anarchy is stronger than you, little Angel. He is certain in all that he does, and you are still an indecisive child.
... Texty didn't get it, even if he did make a good point. Anarchy was certain, he was stronger than me, and that's why I couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to kill me. The only person who'd ever managed to relieve that fear was Chara, it always made sense when they laid it all out. It was so hard to doubt them. But every point they made to calm me down, I'd forget the next time I started spiraling. And it's not like I could ask them to reassure me every time; how would they react if they knew how weak I really was?
So no, I couldn't explain how I felt. Not now, not unless I stopped Anarchy and survived the process. Then it didn't matter, I wouldn't have anything left to be afraid of. I'd tell them everything then, if I'd only live that long. We would go back home, we would live the happy lives we'd worked so hard for. I just... Had to earn it first. I had to work a little harder.
... Or at least, that WAS the plan. Until Asriel threw a fuckin' wrench right into it with his dumb question! Now I had to say something, no matter how stupid it ended up being. I harnessed all my talky-talky skills, I flipped my charisma switch, and I tried my best to shut my emotions off, just like the old days. My lips curled into a fake smile, and I opened my mouth to speak.
"Yo! C'mon Asriel, what kinda question is that?"
Wait, that wasn't my voice. Suddenly, I felt Monster Kid's wing rest like an arm round my shoulders, and I heard him laugh so casually while he flashed his genuine smile at Asriel. My eyes darted from him, to Chara - whom he had under his other wing - to Asriel, who had furrowed his brows with genuine confusion at the drake. He continued effortlessly, "What's goin' on is that these two competitive dorks were gettin' in each other's faces after the game!"
"Uhh... You sure about that, MK?" Asriel asked skeptically, tilting his head some while he arched a brow at his fellow monster. MK wasn't swayed at all by these suspicions though, just continuing to smile convincingly. "Because from where I was standing, it kinda looked like-"
"What else would they have been doing? Haha!" Monster Kid laughed like any other possibility was completely ludicrous, wrapping his wings a little tighter around Chara and I and giving the two of us a little shake. "I could hear 'em grumbling at each other when they were on the ground, talking about rematches and who's gonna kick who's butt!"
Is he... My mouth hung open slightly, staring with stunned green eyes up at Monster Kid's effortless grin. I was suddenly so aware of how credible he was, how anyone who knew MK would believe every word out of his mouth. ... Lying for us?
"You two were just pretendin' to be good sports, weren't ya?" MK laughed again, looking down to me briefly before quickly shifting his gaze to Chara. Then, he shut his eyes, tilting his head back while he laughed. "We shoulda known, Asriel! These two are always competing, haha!"
"... Heh. Yeah, yeah duh!" Asriel laughed a little awkwardly, reaching up and scratching the back of his head with one floofy hand. I had to try my hardest to not look completely stunned by the events that were unfolding before my eyes, relief washing over me while I watched Asriel fall for MK's bluff. He almost looked a little embarrassed, backtracking quickly. "I should have known! You two outta take it easy, it's just a game!"
"A game that we won, thank you very much." Chara crossed their arms, forcing their lips up into a snarky smile while they stepped forward and out from under MK's wing. They marched right up to stand beside Asriel, before spinning on their heel to face us. "Because we're the best, obviously."
"It was a fluke!" I refuted confidently and easily, my own expression reflecting less shock and anxiety and more sass and confidence. I shook my head, stuffing my hands in my pockets and shaking my head while I too took a step forward and out from under MK's wing. "And I'm gonna prove that when MK and I take the two'a you to RC!"
"Oh yeah?" Chara snerked, shifting their weight onto their left leg and leaning some to that side. Arms still crossed, they arched an incredulous brow. "And what, pray tell, does RC stand for?"
"Well I'll learn ya, Chara." I assured, grinning in a way so uniquely Cter. I tilted my head to the side, slouching forward some while I prepared my penultimate punchline. "It rhymes with-"
"Uhh, guys?" Asriel chimed in again, cutting down my sure to be hilarious joke right in its prime. I frowned over at him, before my brows furrowed some. I squinted at the phone screen he was holding up, displaying the time on its surface. "Hate to stop the bickering, but we don't have time for a rematch. We gotta go; Frisk gets outta their meeting soon."
"Oh, yeah!" I perked up, deciding internally that this news was worth ruining my perfectly set up one liner for. I hadn't seen Frisk in years after all, I had honestly been bummed they couldn't hang out for the first part of the day. I guess it was a blessing in disguise though; if there had been five of us, we never would have been able to play two on two.
"We better get goin' then!" MK's voice caught my attention, and I glanced back over my shoulder to see him standing a few yards away now, his tail coiling around our basketball and lifting it from the ground. He looked plenty excited to add another friend to our group, "Don't wanna keep 'em waiting!"
"I guess we can postpone this rematch." Chara shut their eyes, giving a little huff. The smirk remained on their face, and they reached up with one hand, brushing a stray hair behind their ear. "The result's gonna be the same, anyway."
"Yeah yeah, keep runnin' your mouth." I rolled my eyes, even though I was smiling just a little. From there, the four of us made our way back towards the court's chain link gate, MK quickening his pace some to catch up with us.
"Yo, Cter." He spoke as he jogged up to be side by side with me. He turned his snout towards me while his tail handed the ball off to me, "What does RC rhyme with, anyway?"
"Bah." I waved one hand dismissively, my other hand keeping the basketball under my arm. I shook my head, "Moment's gone. Probably wouldn't've been that funny anyway."
"Wasn't strong enough..?" At this point, Max was getting very tired of echoing everything Anarchy said. They'd been standing here for five minutes now, and he had more questions than he started with. Finally, he groaned, reaching up running two hands up his face, before pushing his palms back up into his dark hair and smoothing it back. Sure, he could have asked The Anarchist why his soul was multicolored, he could have reiterated any of his previous questions, but he got the feeling he would have to ask a thousand questions before he got anywhere. He had to ask something different. If it was true that Anthony would be honest and answer every question in full, then he knew what he had to ask. "Anthony, listen... I need the full story summary. If you keep giving me bits and pieces like this, we're going to be here all day."
"..." That got Anarchy to pause. He hesitated some, letting his heterochromia eyes gloss to the side. He had in fact told Max he'd give him every horrible detail if he asked for it, and he meant it. But now that he was in fact faced with that reality, he had to think about when he'd last talked to anyone about his 'story'. The last and only time he'd ever laid things out were when his personalities were still split in two, when Anthony and Anarchy were not the same man. When he was in Deltarune.
"You're not a monster, Anthony... You are not a bad person."
... Deltarune...
Max winced some in a dull gust of hot winds from that red and black soul, and his ears picked up on some strange sounds in the shadows. It was far away, quiet and almost impossible to understand. But, it sounded like a sound a person would make. Some indecipherable words, perhaps? A far away conversation? Or was it laughter..?
"... I guess I should start by saying I wasn't always like this." Anarchy finally spoke, his voice drawing Max's attention back from whatever strange sounds echoed in the woods. His red and black eyes stared deep into the light of his red and black soul, emotionless and unreadable in their gaze. "When I was a kid, I was... Kinda like Mako, honestly. Sweet and caring, I used to feel such a deep love for the world I lived in and the people who inhabited it."
"... World didn't love me, though." Anarchy frowned a little, clenching his outstretched hand into a fist and making his soul disappear back within himself. Max didn't notice it until it was gone, but Anarchy's soul had made the air pressurize. The moment it was hidden away back in The Anarchist's chest, he felt lighter. This made him wonder how Anarchy must have felt, having to carry such a heavy thing around. Anthony's eyes lifted, looking to Max from underneath his white eyebrow. "No matter how kind I was, everyone around me had already decided that I was born wrong, and I should be persecuted for it."
"..." Letting his stare leave Max's, Anarchy lifted his head some. He took ahold of his sweatshirt's hem, and casually he began pulling it up over his head. This pulled up the white tank top Anarchy wore beneath that hoodie as well, and Max's eyes narrowed with some measure of empathy at the scarred up chest and abdomen beneath. He'd seen the scars on Anarchy's arms a few times before; he'd tried his hardest not to think too hard about where they might've come from. Now, seeing the deep and brutal valleys detailing his flesh, the discolored slashes and gashes that branded Anarchy, he was forced to theorize. Anarchy's tanktop slipped back down his chest and into its original placement, while Anarchy held his sweatshirt bunched up in his off hand. His eyes glossed down to the fabric in his hand, the A symbol gripped between his fingers... "My own mother... Beat me like I was some kind of freak."
"I wasn't always like this." Anarchy repeated, those ruby and obsidian orbs darting back up to meet Max's stare. Anarchy thought the look he was giving him was weird; it wasn't quite fear but it wasn't quite compassion either. It didn't really matter how the INTEGRITY soul was feeling though, it just mattered that Anarchy answered his questions. "All of these scars were carved into me when I was still that innocent kid."
Max still didn't speak. He hardly emoted. He just watched Anarchy, listened to his every word. He couldn't deny that it was hard to imagine Anarchy half as bright eyed as Mako was, and it was certainly hard to imagine him as a child. Picturing him as anything other than the massive, imposing man that he was proved difficult, but he couldn't always have been this strong. The scars covering his body were proof enough of that.
"Eventually, I was pushed to a breaking point. The wheres and whens don't really matter, the point is that I killed my mother." That sentence got Max to flinch. Honestly, he should have seen it coming. Anarchy was a murderer, and his mother had obviously been the main abuser that twisted him, at least if the story he was explaining was true. But... It was a disturbing thought. Just a half hour ago, the two had been walking, discussing their poor relationships with their mothers. What had earlier put Max at ease and helped him feel like a better friend to Anthony was a disturbing thought now that he knew the full extent of Anarchy's words.
"Yeah, mom's are tough. Me and my mom never saw eye to eye, either."
'Never saw eye to eye' was an interesting way of saying 'she beat me until I snapped and fucking killed her' Max couldn't help but think. This revelation brought Max's thoughts back to his own mother, and his poor relationship with her. There'd been plenty of wall shaking screaming matches between her and his father, until his father had to leave her. Then she yelled at him instead. That was, until he left her too. But, even though Max was hardly happy with his mother, he would never... How could anyone bring themselves to kill their own mom?
"I killed my mom. I killed a lot of people..." Anthony lifted that sweatshirt closer to his face, distant eyes never leaving the twisted A in its fabric. The symbol for anarchy... His thoughts drifted back in time, to his days lurking in the alleys. He didn't remember a single face from those days. He hadn't thought of his victims as people then, they were just meaningless embers of life. Worthless flames for him to angrily stomp out. "Some deserved it. Most, probably didn't."
"And I guess I could explain how I feel looking back. Go into detail on what I think my motivations were behind my crimes, and whether or not I regret them today." Anarchy let the arm holding his sweatshirt drop back to his side, and he lifted his powerful stare back to Max. "But those things don't matter. Those people are dead, and they aren't coming back."
"... A-alright..." Max couldn't help but gulp, finding it within himself to look Anarchy in his beyond unnatural eyes. He couldn't afford to look away yet, he had more to learn. He still didn't understand Anthony, and until he did, he would force his fear down as best he could. "And, where in here do you become a super human, exactly..?"
"Oh, that? That was about three years ago." Anarchy casually brought his sweatshirt back up over his head, pushing his head into the fabric and putting it back on. Once he wore that Anarchy symbol on his chest again, he reached into his collar, pulling his long hair out from the neck hole of his sweatshirt and straightening out his hood. "I should tell ya Max, this world is way bigger than either of us can really comprehend. If I go into detail about where I came from, you're gonna learn more than you might want to."
"..." That got Max to pause. He narrowed his eyes, let his stare fall to the leaves at their feet. He guessed Anarchy's warning made sense; The Anarchist was a creature he clearly had no understanding of, and to gain an understanding his mind would have to be expanded to a world that he did not live inside of. That was, admittedly a lot to try to wrap his head around. But, he'd made it this far. He wouldn't let himself turn around now. He looked back up to Anthony, and he shrugged slowly. "We're already here. And I need to know."
"... If that's what you want." Anthony respected Max's resolve, but he didn't bother saying it. There were more important matters to talk about. He stuffed his pale hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, and he blinked his multicolored eyes. "To start, I'm not from this world. Not from this timeline, not even from this reality."
Max's eyes widened and his brows furrowed. His thoughts had admittedly been somewhere around government experiment and bitten by a radioactive bug, so space alien threw him off. For the first time in Anarchy's explanation, Max had some doubts to voice. "Wait, you mean you're telling me you aren't from Earth?"
"Oh I'm from Earth. Just not this one." Anarchy shook his head, casually pulling one hand from his pocket and giving Max a dismissive wave. This hardly dulled the emo boy's confusion though, so Anarchy kept talking. "I'm not a very sciency guy, so I didn't pay much attention when it was happenin' around me, but the gist is that there's this whole big multiverse of different timelines. Different stories, different people, yada yada."
Okay, so now the regenerating lumber jack albino was confirming multiverse theory! Max felt like he needed to hold his own head to keep it from spinning off. His first instinct was to write Anthony off as a maniac and convince himself everything he'd just learned was a lie, but that hardly explained the super speed and super healing he'd witnessed ten minutes ago. He blinked his wide eyes twice, "... And, you're... From one of these, 'alternate timelines'?"
"Oh, no. I'm from a different reality entirely." Anarchy shrugged like this was old news while Max's head rolled back on his shoulders. Oh, right, of course! Alternate realities! That cleared things up!
"... I think I need to sit down..." Max mumbled, looking away from Anthony to find something to sit on. His eyes glossed over to a stump, and he grumbled a few more words to himself while he wandered over towards it, taking a seat on its rough wooden surface.
"Where I'm from, there's no monsters. No magic, no souls." Anarchy kept talking, watching carelessly while Max found himself a seat. He turned to face him, tilting his head to the side and flashing a slight frown. "It's a shitty place, where humans kill humans for being human. That's where I killed my mother and first became The Anarchist, and that's where I almost died."
"Almost died..?" Max echoed helplessly, lifting his dazed eyes up to Anarchy. He slouched forward on his stump, one fist propped up on his knee and his chin resting on that fist.
"Being a serial killer was a dangerous business in those days. I got involved in a lot of dangerous situations, mainly gang violence." Anarchy's eyes narrowed at this particular set of memories, and Max noted the way his jaw tightened. This clearly wasn't something about his past he enjoyed revisiting. Max guessed that most of Anarchy's past was like that. "That brother I mentioned earlier stabbed me in the back and left me for dead. Fortunately, at about the same time, a few nerds from this reality pulled some people from my reality into this one. I don't remember why, didn't really care about that part'a the story."
"O... Kay..?" Max managed to say, arching a brow up at Anarchy. He paused for a moment, before groaning quietly. Anarchy's in depth explanation wasn't helpful, either. So, he reached up, running a hand through his dark hair and shaking his head before he spoke again. "Listen, Anthony. I don't think I really wanna think about all the extra details. So, just explain it to me. Why are you so powerful, and what's your end game?"
"..." Anarchy frowned a little deeper at that. One second Max wants every detail, the next he wants the short version? Anarchy guessed he must not have been a very good story teller. Regardless, he shut his eyes and he sighed, gathering his thoughts and preparing to answer those questions as best he could. "... I am powerful because my soul refuses to be anything less. I have a goal that I will accomplish at any cost, and I will never die, I will never lose, until that goal is reached."
That was it? He was powerful purely because his soul demanded power? That was certainly a less than satisfying answer to Max, but if Anarchy really was being honest, he'd have to accept it. And if that really was true, it was really an amazing thing to think about. That a human being's soul could simply will itself to an ungodly level of power, that the human spirit truly was powerful enough to defy reality. To revise what is possible and what is impossible...
"I've been betrayed a thousand times in my life, and since becoming Anarchy I've paid everyone who's ever screwed me over back a hundred fold." Anarchy opened those multicolored eyes, once more staring into Max's own soul with them. Those eyes narrowed painfully however, and Max once again pondered what it must be like to carry a soul that heavy. "Everyone but one person. The Angel."
"The Angel..?" Max furrowed his brows at this revelation. His thoughts drifted back to the shield hung in Anthony's barn and the religious symbol scrawled on its surface. The Deltarune, from what little Max knew of Monster religion he understood that it was the symbol of The Angel, which was the figure of monsterkind's worship. Some being that had seen the surface, and who's arrival would make the Underground go empty. But that was just as fictitious as any religion, Max had surmised. After all, the Underground had went empty years ago, and there was no godly being that appeared to make it happen.
"I wasn't the only one brought here from my reality. My brother Angel was brought here too. And just like me, he got himself some ungodly strength." Anarchy's eyes usually looked so reserved. His stare was always medicated to some degree, it had something hidden. Now, Max could see some of that. Hatred is what it looked like to him, some rage that had been kept inside and allowed to grow for Anthony's entire lifetime. He was sure, looking into those ruby and obsidian orbs, that those were in fact the eyes of a Killer. "The details would probably just overcomplicate things; the point is that Angel abandoned me twice. He left me for dead, tried to get me killed and destroyed the one family I'd ever had."
"Being brought here threw a wrench in his plans, because it meant I survived." Anarchy's hands balled into fists, Max saw his jaw tighten. That hidden anger was growing more and more intense just beyond the medicated wall in his eyes. "And you know what he did after screwing me over? After spitting in my face and in our family's face, he has the AUDACITY to start acting like he's the hero! He makes all these new friends, and goes around acting like he's The fuckin' Angel!"
"Since he's surrounded by morons who don't know how much of a dick he is, he's able to just pretend he was never a bad dude! He starts being so nice to all these new people!" Max leaned back some on his stump, his eyebrows raising. He didn't think he'd ever heard Anarchy raise his voice before. And now, he was watching the looming albino pace back and forth, making plenty of furious gestures with his hands while he talked. Max wasn't sure if he was being talked to or talked at. "After I gave him LITERALLY EVERYTHING I had! I worked so hard to be the best best friend a guy could ask for, and that was before I was a lunatic! And then he has the balls to just go be MC KINDNESS for all these new people, as if I wasn't good enough! As if we weren't good enough!"
"You wanna know my one goal?! Fuck this murderer thing, fuck being all powerful!" Anarchy suddenly pivoted towards Max, pointing one finger towards him before throwing that same hand out to his side with his furious declarations. This made Max jump some, reasonably startled by Anarchy's sudden intensity being aimed at him. "All I want is to kill Angel, and then I'm done! I'm out! Nobody else dies, and I get to go..! I dunno, watch paint dry for all eternity or some shit!"
"Then why are you shouting at me about it instead of doing it?!" Max blurted out fearfully, cold sweat beading down his face while he stared at Anarchy with wide eyes. He sat on the back edge of his stump seat, knees pulled up and shoes planted on the front of the stump. It was like he was spring loaded, ready at any moment to dart off the makeshift stool and scurry away into the forest.
"I-!" Anarchy lifted one finger and opened his mouth to answer Max's question, but suddenly he paused. Slowly, he pursed his lips, and his angry expression started to relax. His lifted finger curled back into his fist, and he shut his multicolored eyes. A deep frown slowly dragged down his expression, and when he slowly opened his eyes to look at the ground shamefully, Max saw that both of his eyes were red once again. Quietly now, Anarchy mumbled. "... I couldn't do it..."
Another curveball. Max was starting to get used to them at this point, so he didn't bother repeating Anarchy's words back to him. Instead, he gradually relaxed on his stump, slowly letting himself scoot and pivot until he was seated normally once more. He tilted his head to the side, and asked as delicately as he could. "And, why couldn't you..?"
"It's not that I didn't have the power to. We fought, and it was perfect." Anarchy straightened his back, but kept his eyes on the ground. He slowly shook his head, eyes narrowing bitterly at the painful memories flashing before his eyes. "It was exactly what I'd dreamed it would be, and by the end I had him! He was beaten down and broken, I'd screamed everything I wanted to at him, I totally tore him down from his pedestal in front of everyone!"
"... But..." Anarchy had lifted his hands in his excited rant, a little smile had curled his lips. But as he stared at his scarred up hands, and his memories went back to the end of his confrontation with Angel... He frowned, and his hands dropped back to his sides. Anthony sighed quietly, a bitter frown once more overtaking his expression. "... Then he apologized."
"A'course, I didn't believe it at first. How could I? He wants to fight me, and then the moment I'm about to kill him he suddenly regrets being a dick?" Anthony lifted those scarlet orbs to Max's curious gaze, before he shook his head disbelievingly. "Yeah right. He just said all that shit to save his own ass."
"Angel's a liar, after all. It's all he's ever been." Anarchy crossed his arms over his chest, and his eyes darted to the side. He squinted at some distant tree, just to avoid eye contact. "I'm sure he was full of shit. But... The moment he said he was sorry, I... I realized how badly I wanted to hear it. How much I had needed to hear someone apologize for all the fucked up things they'd done to me."
"All my life I've been treated like shit without any hesitation. Mom beat me, dad abandoned me, other kids kicked the shit outta me, Angel stabbed me in the back." Max watched Anarchy with an expression that was hard to read, and when Anarchy took a step closer, his eyebrows lifted some. Quickly he scooted over some, and he watched The Anarchist take a seat beside him on the stump. "And it all came so easy to every single one of them. Like they never thought it was wrong, like there wasn't one doubt in their mind that I was subhuman, and deserved to be treated like it."
"Suddenly, I didn't know if I even wanted to kill Angel, or if all I really wanted was for someone to look me in the eye and say they're sorry." Anthony leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring forlornly into the mud and leaves at his feet. He turned his hands upwards, staring into his palms again. Max wondered if he could see all the blood they must've been stained with. "I didn't know whether or not I cared about any of the work I'd put in. I didn't know if I wanted Angel dead, or if I just wanted someone to treat me like a person."
"... I was weak. I let how hurt I am on the inside cloud my judgement, and that dirty liar got away." Anthony's eyes glossed over to Max, who looked like he was somewhere between sympathy and complete bewilderment. Regardless The Anarchist continued. "That's why I came to this forest. That's why I invited you and Mako out here. Because I thought if something could help me get over my weaker emotions, then next time I could kill Angel for sure."
"... But I don't really feel much different. I just feel like I'm masking who I really am, taking meds and farming and building." Anarchy's eyes drifted back towards his open palms, narrowing painfully. "All of this feels fake. Whether I'm enjoying it or not, this isn't my life. This isn't what I do."
"..." Things were quiet for awhile after that. Anarchy didn't seem like he had anymore to explain, and Max couldn't think of any more questions. So, they sat there in the dead silent forest for moments that dragged on and on while Max pondered all that he'd learned. Honestly, he couldn't say he really understood most of it. Interdimensional travel, matricide, unfathomable powers, immortality, blood feuds and vendettas. Him and Anarchy really did live in completely different worlds. The strangest of all things he'd learned today, however, was that he actually felt sympathy for a serial killer. Honestly, the logical part of his brain was shouting that he couldn't trust Anarchy as far as he could throw him and that he should run for the hills. But, after hearing all those words pour out of The Anarchist, and now watching him sit there in some miserable contemplation, Max couldn't deny that something about Anthony came off as absolutely genuine. And while he didn't feel much empathy for a murderer, it was hard for Max to disregard someone who'd been a victim of so much abuse. So, he steadied his nerve, and he took a deep breath. ... Welp, here goes nothing.
Anarchy's eyebrows rose with some surprise, his body stiffening some when he felt a hand rest upon his back. Slowly, skeptically, he looked over to Max, who smiled a little awkwardly at him. He rubbed Anthony's back gently in some attempt to comfort him, and offered up what few words of comfort he had. "Listen, Anthony. I'll be honest, I uh... I don't really understand most of what you're going through. I'm, a pretty regular guy. I don't think I ever could understand."
"But, what I do understand, is that you've lived a uh... A pretty brutal life." With his free hand, Max reached up and scratched his cheek. His words made Anarchy scoff with some amusement, his lips curling up just a bit. "It sounds like you're really hurting. And, that is something I know a thing or two about."
"I'm sure you already understand this, but... Nothing's gonna undo the past." Max's eyes glossed down to the forest floor, narrowing a little painfully. Anarchy thought his thoughts may have drifted somewhere else, but regardless Max kept speaking. "There's nothing you or anyone else can do to bring someone back from the dead. There's no way to unsay what you've said to other people or undo what you've done to them, and there's no way to unhear what others have said to you or unfeel what they've done to you."
"Our actions in this life are permanent. That's, probably why you wanna kill this Angel guy so bad." Max turned his head then, dared look Anthony in the eye. He gave a skeptical shrug, and silently hoped that his next sentence didn't get him clobbered. "But, it's not gonna make you feel better if you do..? At least, I don't think it will."
"... It's not about me." Anarchy frowned again, turning his eyes forward. He stared out into the endless woods with those vacant eyes, and he spotted some kid in the distance. The boy stared with green eyes, kept most of his body hidden in a sweatshirt that was a size too big. Behind this boy, his shadow stretched into wild shapes. A taller man, adorned with four wings... What a disturbing thing to sprout from such an unsuspecting child.
Max glanced to the side again, and for another few moments things were quiet. He didn't understand what it was like to be Anarchy, so he didn't try to refute those words. If Anarchy believed his life was more about killing Angel than it was about himself, Max got the feeling he didn't know enough to convince him otherwise. So, he pondered for awhile longer. He thought back over what Anarchy had said to him, and he considered what his next words should be. After a long minute or two, his eyebrows rose as though a lightbulb had clicked on over his head. He looked back to Anarchy, "Hey, you said that Angel apologizing made you emotional because you wanna be treated like a person, right?"
"Eugh... Something like that." Anarchy looked away, his frown deepening. He didn't like the sound of his own words repeated back to him, it made him want to scold himself. Why had he decided to show someone this weaker side of him? What did he stand to gain from it?
"Well, I think spending some time with some friends who treat you like a person might help you out then." Max flashed his most convincing smile, but he wasn't much of a smiler. Anarchy thought his words and earnest grinning mimicked Mako in a lot of ways, and he figured Max must have been trying to act like the friendliest person he could think of. This made Anarchy scoff some while he sat up, and Max pulled his hand off of his back when he did.
"C'mon Max, you really wanna pal around with a guy like me?" Anarchy leaned his head back, arching a skeptical brow at him. His lips remained parted, and the light that shun through the trees overhead caught on his sharp white teeth. "I know you're scared'a me, I can see it in your eyes. Not that I blame you."
"I mean, yeah, sharing a stump with the most dangerous man alive is a little scary." Max half mumbled, eyes darting to the side. He reached up and began rubbing the back of his neck a bit sheepishly, before letting his INTEGRITY eyes look back to Anthony. The smile that he flashed then was a lot more genuine, more Max and not nearly as much Mako. "But, I did mean what I said before, Anthony. You've been nothing but good to my sister and I."
"So, even though I definitely don't agree with a lot of what you've done in the past... For over two years you've been a good guy." Max let his hand slip off his neck, and he gave a halfhearted shrug. He still wore that small smile, and Anarchy could see honesty behind it. "And, that's enough for me to believe you deserve a chance."
"..." Anarchy looked forward again. His expression evened out while he considered this offer. He did respect Max for handling things in such a way, he thought for sure the emo boy would be running for the hills the moment the whole 'interdimensional serial killer' thing came up, but he stood his ground and he didn't give up on Anthony. That wasn't something Anthony would forget.
So, he sat and he thought about the words just said to him, and what they would mean. Trying to spend time with friends... Anarchy didn't know how long it had been since he'd committed himself to such a frivolous activity. Seemed like all his life had ever been was grueling, lonely work.
"The Angel's mortality should be something you are very familiar with!"
... Anthony was running out of time to get this straightened out. Whether he liked it or not, he was gonna have to leave sooner rather than later. Either Gatherer or Predator was going to find him, and something big was going to happen. Order's Mad God was coming, that much he felt in his bones. So, with all that in mind, he turned his head back towards Max, and he gave a shrug. His lips curled back, and he flashed a sharp tooth smile. "Alright, Max. I think I'll take ya up on that offer."
"Good. I woulda been a little insulted if you picked screwing around with plants over hanging out with me n' Mako." Max joked, the corner of his mouth lifting some. Anarchy got a chuckle out of that, before placing his hands on his knees and pushing himself to his feet.
"You shouldn't be." Stuffing his hands back in his sweatshirt's front pocket, Anarchy turned back to face Max, who was also standing up. "I'd pick the trees or my crops over a lotta people; you two should feel honored."
Max got a little laugh out of that, shaking his head at Anarchy's strange social priorities. He was certainly a weird dude, but Max had been aware of that before he knew Anthony's story. He couldn't say he was trying to help The Anarchist purely out of the goodness of his heart, it was mostly a mix of self preservation and an effort to pay back a debt. Anthony had given him and Mako a safe haven free of charge after all, and that wasn't something Max was liable to forget. Besides, Mako trusted him. Not only that, she enjoyed being around him. She'd been around Anthony more than Max ever had, and she was far more perceptive than she lead on, Max knew that much about her. Something told him that Mako already understood Anarchy was dangerous to some extent, and she trusted him anyway. He wouldn't doubt her on that; if anyone knew a good person from a bad one, it was Mako. Her pure monster soul had a way of empathizing with other souls, she often understood exactly what others were feeling, as if she could feel it herself. Something told Max she would have picked up a "I'm gonna murder these two" vibe after two and a half years, especially from a soul as loud as Anarchy's.
"... Hey, Anthony." But, even though Max doubted Anarchy himself would hurt him or Mako, a new worry still crossed his mind. So, he paused after standing, furrowing his brows with some concern. "Sorry, but, I've got another question."
"Shoot." Anarchy fearlessly requested. He leaned his head onto one shoulder, both of which he shrugged carelessly upon Max's words.
"Well... I trust that you don't have any intentions of hurting me or Mako. But, I take it being the most dangerous man alive earns you a few enemies." Max squinted some, and as he spoke, the shadows in the forest began to shift. "So I guess what I wanna ask is... Are Mako and I safe being around you?"
"..." Anarchy smiled. The question was silly to him, he couldn't help but grin a little. This smile hardly put Max at ease; Anarchy's smiles weren't too refreshing these days. Knowing this, Anthony The Anarchist offered up some comforting words instead. "Max, you n' Mako are safer than anyone else in the multiverse."
"Huh..?" Max certainly looked a little confounded by that line. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head, watching Anarchy carefully. Behind him, the shadows almost seemed to twitch and seethe with life. It was a sight familiar to him, the kind of Dark that Max had seen covering the right side of Anthony's soul. Anarchy explained,
"Because if anyone ever wanted to hurt you two, they'd have to go through me first."
It really was interesting wandering through Ebott City here after living in Future's Ebott City. Seeing new buildings that were old in Future's timeline, or buildings that no longer existed in his reality. After the battle with Character devastated his city, there was plenty of city missing. I guessed the tradeoff was that his Mount Ebott still ended in a peak, while ours was, of course, flat at the top.
Now, we were making our way towards an eerily familiar building. Here it was just the main government building, the city's equivalent of a mayor's office. Or, maybe something closer to a capitol building for Monsterkind. It was a pretty modest building in this day and age, but in Future's timeline it had become the castle that Chara and I lived in. Seeing it fifteen years younger was certainly strange, but also kinda interesting to the more nerdy parts of my brain.
As we walked up the sidewalk towards the glass front wall of the building, the doors slid open, and out strutted one familiar ambassador. They were pretty close to how tall they were last time I saw them, if not just a little taller. Their clothing certainly stood out as odd to me, but then again I knew about as much about fashion as I knew about Anarchy's location. They wore a purple blazer over a blue button up shirt, along with a skirt that bore the same blue and purple striped pattern as their old sweater. It was such a strange mixture to me; they looked half professional and half like they looked when they wore the dusty tutu in the Underground. Regardless, the sight of Frisk standing there made me smile.
They had one hand on their hip and the other holding a phone up to their ear. Over one shoulder the strap for a purse was slung; I guessed that skirts didn't have pockets. They were too far away for me to hear what they were saying on the phone, but I guessed from how bored they looked that it must've been work related. Their eyes glossed over their surroundings while they spoke, and when their eyes inevitably reached down the sidewalk and spotted the four of us there, Frisk's face lit up. Their eyebrows rose, mouth opened into a smile that was as surprised as it was giddy.
I reached up high over my head, waving my arm back and forth like I was trying to get their attention even though they were already staring right at us. MK and Asriel had big ol' smiles on their faces, and even though Chara kept their hands in their pockets and tried to play it cool, even they were smiling. Hastily Frisk hung up their phone, and while they sprinted towards us, they tucked it away into their purse.
"Cter! Chara!" They called out with excitement, just before they dove through the air at us! My eyes widened, and without even thinking Chara and I opened our arms wide to catch Frisk. They stuck the landing between us, wrapping one arm around each of our necks and pulling both of our heads in for a big human trio hug. "It's been forever!"
I couldn't help but laugh, my head forcibly squished against Frisk's. I reckoned Chara was in a similar pickle on the other side of their head, which added to my amusement. I hastily agreed, "Yeah, you're tellin' me!"
"You got taller!" Frisk quickly surmised as they let go of the both of us, taking a step back to get a look at us. Before I could react to their statement, they were already leaning down and poking me in the abs, which reasonably made me flinch from the sudden contact. "And harder!"
"Ehehe..." I laughed a little sheepishly, reaching up and scratching the back of my head. My eyes darted to the side, ears tinting a red shade. "Yeah the uh, the training's been, fruitful?"
"And Chara, your hair is all long now!" Just like that, Frisk was on to Chara. They stepped up to them, hastily walking around Chara and looking them over curiously. Next, they had them by the arm, lifting it up and looking over their green and yellow track jacket. "Rockin' the track jacket. I like it, I like it!"
"U-uhh... Thanks?" Chara certainly didn't know how to take a compliment, but they tried their best. Their own ears turning a little red, they smiled awkwardly as Frisk released their arm. The giddy ambassador took a few steps back, standing suddenly at the forefront of our group. We watched Frisk plant their hands on their hips and take a deep breath, like they were just taking in the moment.
"Man, look at us. All grown up." Their eyes opened a little wider than usual, scarlet orbs scanning over the four of us. A small, nostalgic smile crossed their lips, and they shook their head. "Feels like just yesterday we were all leaving the Underground together, doesn't it?"
"Feels like that was forever ago to me..." I admitted with a little exasperation, letting my shoulders sink forward some. But, I must not've been too upset about this revelation, because a small smile still creased my lips.
My response made Frisk laugh, and they were quick to slap an arm around my shoulder. "Well, that's probably because you've been busy with all sorts of multiverse nonsense while I've been in politics!"
"How is politics, by the way?" Chara asked while the five of us began walking, absentmindedly approaching the mountain looming on the horizon.
"Terrible!" Frisk said with no hesitation and an honest smile, snapping their fingers and pointing one finger gun at Chara. "Never get into it!"
Frisk's quick negativity in a positive tone managed to catch me and Monster Kid so off guard that we ended up laughing at their misfortune, but Frisk laughed too, so I didn't feel too bad about it. They relaxed then, waving a dismissive hand and shaking their head. "Nah, it's not too bad. I'm glad to be doing something important to help Monsterkind."
"Shuffling papers and going to meetings is just a bit of a far cry from befriending an entire species and fighting god." Frisk smirked a little mischievously then, unwrapping their arm from my shoulder and instead stepping over towards Asriel. They poked him in the side, grinning playfully. "Right, God Of Hyperdeath?"
"Eugh, don't remind me..." Asriel's blush was clear through his fur as he lowered his head, lifting one big paw to hide his face from the rest of us. "Did I really call myself that..?"
"I think it sounds cool!" Monster Kid objected with the utmost honesty, standing up straight like he was almost offended by Asriel's embarrassment.
"Oh, you precious cinnamon roll." I casually patted MK on the back, shaking my head. He rolled his eyes at this, but a smile grew on his face regardless. "Never change."
"Well, since we're already reminiscing and harassing Asriel," Chara crossed their arms over their chest again, smirking some at their brother's embarrassment. "Should we head up the mountain?"
"Hey wait you guys, are you sure we wanna do that?" I said with fake skepticism, leaning forward and widening my eyes some to look as though I was freaked out. This made all eyes watching me narrow with some kind of confusion or concern, only for it to immediately fade with my next sentence. "I heard that people who climb the mountain never return!"
A choir of boos rang out at my joke, only making me laugh as I was playfully shoved back and forth between my four friends. Asriel groaned, rolling his eyes even though he was grinning. "That joke sucked!"
"Screw you guys!" I chuckled as all the shoving came to a stop, unable to stop grinning at my own dumb joke. "I'm hilarious!"
*Ah... I still hate slice of life.
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