Sometimes it takes a stranger to get the job done.


Withern had expected to go home to an isolated town in the middle of a rich gold-colored forest, quiet and simple enough for him to clear his head somewhere. Somewhere where he can rethink, calm himself, and break down everything that had happened. It wasn't like this the first time he had done something like that; running away to be alone and reflect. Last time it worked, but it wasn't his friends he had run away from last time... Right now wasn't a good time to think about it.

He knew leaving Hate, Tulah, and the others behind would likely leave them worried and worried as well as put them in danger, but he fully believed he couldn't protect any of them. Every time he tried to help someone, it always went south. He couldn't have protected his friends because he had been so caught up in his own grief during the attack, never daring to go back to the arena. What kind of person was he for doing that? He hated himself for it.

His soul felt heavy, Withern wanted to crumble away in a dark corner for all he failed to do. A while ago he had to radio on to listen to music to relax himself, but what he had gotten was more terrible news that immediately made him shut it off. Deaths, injuries, grieving families, Betty and his friends targeted, he couldn't handle anymore of it. He felt worthless.

It only intensified when he arrived at what was no more his home.

It wasn't hard to see all the flames lit in the far distance, especially with all the smoke and smog being a dead giveaway to what was going on. As Withern drove, through the dark fumes in the air and down the road, he could see the trees next to his car set ablaze and slowly turning from gold to ash black. Eventually, there was nothing but fire surrounding his vehicle as he approached Our Town. Horror washed over Withern as he came to the realization that since his home was surrounded by nothing but forestry-...

Withern stepped on the pedal.

Soon he'd arrive at what was once a sparsely populated place with buildings and apartments spread across an enclosed plain shrouded by the Glistening Thicket. It was all just one, burning bonfire with only a few structures spared the intense, visible heat. Stopping and getting out of his car, the mohawked human stepped foot outside and gandered at the damage around him. With so many buildings on fire, someone was bound to have been in trouble... The fire had been going on for a while, a lot of structures were nothing but darkened and grayed rubble. Oh god, what happened to my home?

Withern was too entranced by the scene that he hadn't noticed the corpse near him until he stepped on the body. He recoiled in surprise and looked down at the charred body. It was a human, one with many stab wounds over the charcoaled flesh. Perseverance magic outlined the deep marks. He bent down and regrettably turned over the body, seeing the face of one of the many residents who had lived here. With the town being so small, it wasn't hard to know each member to an extent - which only made the situation more nightmarish. "F-fuck!"

Focusing his attention on other parts of the scene, Withern could see more human bodies strewn across, many of them having slashes of purple around their limbs. As for monsters, some dust lingered and mixed with the ash. He knew who the culprit was. His teeth clenched in anger as one hand moved down to the slash still across his chest.

The attack set on Withern and his friends was only the main one, there had been others meant to capitalize on the distraction. He hadn't been there to stop it. For the mohawked teen, the blame could only be placed upon himself. If he had stayed here in Our Town, then none of this would've occurred. He would've been there to stop it and that skeleton monster wouldn't have been caught up in the mix.

All of this could've been avoided if he had never gone to Determino...The idea he was an indirect murderer became rampant in his mind once again. Withern's soul was too heavy to deal with what he was looking at; drops of black fell onto the ground.

For what almost seemed like forever, Withern stood still and watched as the fire continued to consume the whole town. He was too devastated to move. Even though his mind pushed him to go look for any survivors, he knew most of the population was dead. I wasn't there to do anything, my home is probably fucked, there's corpses everywhere; people I've lived around, everyone is gone...Wait- That means-

Feeling his heart suddenly race, he bolted towards Mila's house. He changed his mind, he had to find survivors. Just at least a glimmer of hope had to be present, right? Withern realized his friend's parents were likely caught in the attack, but couldn't accept that they had also perished like everyone else. Despite his thought process, it made him feel all the more disgusted with himself. He hadn't just left his home and people undefended, but he left loved ones' families vulnerable.

But then there was also Kumu, Betty's friend. Were they there to protect the town? He knew they were strong, there must've been at least a fight, some sort of resistance when the attack happened. Maybe, just maybe, Mila's parents were lucky.

Too bad whatever hope he had was immediately crushed upon seeing their house. It was nothing but rubbled, caved in, ablaze, with no way to suggest it ever was a house to begin with.

Mila's parents no Kumu were nowhere to be seen...Just a corpse of one of those godforsaken, purple-smiled humanoids. He cracked a loud, wrathful shout, and stomped on the head, decimating it to nothing but a purple-blooded mess. "Dammit! Damn you!"

The mohawked teen kicked away what was likely a bone shard of the corpse's skull. Milo's parents are dead too...Aren't they? He didn't want it to confirm his suspicions, fearing they were already true. The monster condominium wasn't too far from where he was standing either, he could see it in the distance. The complex was starting to crumble and reduce itself to blackened rebar and concrete.

Did Kumu even try protecting anyone? Wasn't determination supposed to be strong enough to stop this? He knew the only reason all of this happened was because of Betty, her soul. He had heard everything on the radio. Maybe she's who he should be mad at.

If Betty hadn't been around, then none of this mess would've occurred! No one would've been targeted and he could've had a much more peaceful outcome in life than this. And here he was, thinking that this was all his fault! It was Betty's along, she-...She...

No, putting the blame on them wasn't possible... It would get him nowhere and Withern would be a hypocrite. It was unintentional; past his anger and sadness he knew no one could've predicted this. That thinking was for those who had guideless reasoning. He couldn't blindly force hate onto her. He only found himself responsible.

He could only hate himself.

Believing that, Withern would stand in place for what seemed like forever, ridden with pain.

It took him a while to regain enough sense to step back from the carcass, to figure out what to do from here. This wasn't something he could be quiet about, his friends had to learn what happened to their homes and families. He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, already mentally conflicted and shattered enough already. To tell them what happened also meant to tell them he failed as a person, a protector, there was no other way to put it.

Someone had to tell his friends though, leaving them in the dark until they return to what's left of Our Town would worsen everything. He had to minimize the damage, but irrationality got the better of him. What was he doing anymore? Everything he knew was falling apart. The damage had already been done even if he salvaged what he could. He was only tending to the wounds, which may be too fatal for him to heal.

This, the town up in flames with so many dead, how could anyone recover from that? How could his sugarcoat any of this?

Withern's mind added issue after issue like a weight, each mentally dragging him down even as he recovered from his initial shock. He didn't realize he had called his friends, subconsciously having taken his phone out of his pocket with Mila's number dialed. This is all my fault! If only I had just stayed! It was too much for him anymore, snapping under pressure once again. It's all my fault... I'm a monster. I can't save anyone, I can't do anything, I couldn't even protect my own home. What kind of sick joke is this?

Why is this world so cruel? I don't understand. Is it because of me?

Ending the call and grasping at his face, the feeling of sludge-like liquid dripped over Withern's hands and cheeks. A disgruntled smile rose as he softly chuckled to himself. Darkness washed over his eyes and his chuckles morphed into a laugh.

He found himself laughing so much it began to hurt; only the feeling of cold iron against the back of his head ceased it. Turning around slowly, Withern saw what was a police officer with a cowboy-like appearance going on - a red bandana and cowboy hat. It was rather hard for the mohawked human to fully recognize their apperance, having darkened and smudged vision at the moment. He could somewhat make out their expression at the very least: wary.

"Your eyes..." The officer said as his fingers slowly fidgeted down on the hammer of his revolver.

My eyes? Wait. There's people still here? Withern for the first few seconds struggled to say anything. He didn't know how to feel about the officer, they certainly weren't anyone he had encountered before in the town. Plus, they had a gun pointed at his head which made him awfully nervous. "I-Is something wrong with my eyes?"

The man didn't reply for a long moment, but eventually, instead of answering, he threw another question at the mohawked teen. "Why were ya laughin'?"

Confusion spread across Withern's face. I wasn't laughing. Why the hell would I laugh over this?! Everything I knew was burned to the ground! "I-I...I was? Was I?" his vision began to return, the darkened tint and blur fading to nothing, allowing him to see the officer lower his weapon.

"It was uh- Ah trick question." The officer stated, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm lookin' for survivors in the area, I thought you were one of them wild men who came rampaging here. They laugh n have this weird look in their eyes. You're good though."

"O-Okay?" Withern was almost afraid to ask the shifty man about the fate of Our Town's residents, but he had to know. "...How many survived?"

"Only two. Some kinda bunny shopkeeper and dog-cat monster? No humans- Oh shit!" The officer caught Withern before he fell onto his knees, holding his upper body. "Ya alright?!"

Withern shook his head.

It took the man a moment to say something, biting his lip and trying to find the right words for the teenager. He could see how defeated they looked. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?" He offered while adjusting his cowboy hat. "I know this is a lot to be dealin' with. Your home is gone, everything maybe. I'm here for ya."

Withern looked up at the officer, a tinge of green returning to his eyes and hair at their kindness. Their words hit him harder than they expected. He needed help badly. There was no shame in assistance, but there was shame in how weak and vulnerable he was. This wasn't something he couldn't handle alone anymore and it destroyed him. " I... never wanted to come back to something like this...I-I'm sorry, I just- this is the worst day of my life." he sniffled, attempting to hold back the tears that found their way out of his eyes. "I couldn't protect anyone. I've failed so many times, taking the wrong choices and putting lives in jeopardy because I didn't do enough. Now I've left this town undefended and look what happened; It's gone."

The officer stared at Withern in confusion, seeing the teenager's sorrow as survivor's guilt more than anything. "You're blaming yourself over your home's destruction? You're being too hard on yourself." he looked at the crackling flames that engulfed the town. "There was nothing that could prevent this."

"I could've protected this town if I hadn't left, I could've done so damn much in the past if I just took a different approach..." Withern gripped his head. He felt his tears beginning to run down his face once more. "I don't get why I can never do anything right. I just want to keep people safe but I'm always too late. Too weak."

The officer accidentally ran into a bullet, hadn't he? This was starting to go deeper than just simple guilt; he could see black pulsing out from them but made no comment about it. "But you tried, didn't you?" He asked, putting a hand on Withern's shoulder and trying to mend his mistake.

"The last person who asked me that died from my own efforts... I even made the mistake of asking for his help and now he suffered for it." Withern thought back to how he had a similar conversation with the skeleton monster, Sans. He saw them get blasted by their own attack over a dumb plan he had.

Withern had tried to get help from the monster and, before that, Betty too when his efforts weren't enough. However, their help was short-lived. Betty was being hunted down by people, which meant he couldn't rely on her help with the troubles she now has to deal with, and Sans was dead to the teen's eyes. It was awful. He was practically alone and made to deal with his own burden.

He wasn't willing to take 'trying' as a good enough answer either, it wouldn't settle him in the slightest. In fact, it made him worse since it meant his efforts were in vain.

"Well, sometimes trying ain't enough, but it's all we can ever do. You should take comfort in knowing you at least tried to do something." The officer carefully explained as he and Withern sat down on the pavement and continued to watch the fire from a distance. His eyes briefly shined a bright yellow. "Ah mean- look at me, ol' Adel. Everyone in this town is nearly dead and my job was to protect n serve. I did all I could but it still didn't stop em deaths. The only thing I can do now is accept it."

"I've already heard all that before." Where was this going? This was the nearly the same, exact conversation Withern had experienced before! It was all the same, and those words had failed him before. This wasn't something he could get over. How can you? "Why does it hurt when I try to?"

"to what?" Adel asked.

"Accept it..." Withern wiped his tears and looked down at his hand. Pitch black. Uneasiness rang throughout his body. Since when did that get there? He didn't remember ever having that vile substance on him.

Adel sighed and moved his hand away from Withern's shoulder. He held up his revolver and spun the barrel as he spoke. "It always will. Accepting isn't just becoming numb to the pain, it's...Huh. How do I put it? I guess you can say it's letting that pain in but never letting it overcome you."

Letting pain in... It's impossible to stop it. So what Withern was feeling was natural? But how can he handle it? All those failures and disappointments he had caused, it was almost crushing his soul. How could it not overcome him? It was far too much for him to handle, he was bleeding that horrible black from his eyes. "How do I do that?"

Why was he just now realizing how badly his emotions had become? When had hate taken over him so easily? Withern felt sick to the stomach. This was all his fault. The blame was only on him and no one else, it always was.

You can only blame yourself.

the tint of green on him darkened. The teenager couldn't control himself much longer. This was something far out of his control and he knew it, this wouldn't be the first time he witnessed it.

"Depends on the person. But ah will tell you this: find a new approach." Adel said, raising his gun in front of his face. "For me, it was solvin' crime. I only wish I learned that sooner."

Withern chuckled before coughing, doubling over in pain as the dark liquid seeped from his mouth. Something was pulling his mind back, thoughts of failure tying him down. It was like he was doing it again, being useless and a burden, fueling his near inescapable, internal agony. "...I...I think it's too late for me then. It's pointless." he shook his head. "I can't handle the pain."

If you had learned sooner, then no one would have to die. You'd be stronger.

Adel sighed. "I fear you'd say that...You know what that dark gunk on ya is, right?" He tipped his cowboy hat and stepped away from Withern.

The mohawked teen was aware of what he was accumulating. Alarmingly, It was the same stuff Hate was made out off. He was so close to losing himself like they did. "Y-Yea... I...I never thought I was capable of generating it. I-I can't be generating it- No, no, no! Why?!"

"And you're a kindness soul too...How long have you kept this up?" Adel asked as he loaded a bullet into the cylinder.

"W-what up? Why does it matter?" Withern struggled out, the world around him becoming muffled with nothing but his own regrets and shortcomings. The air screamed for his end.

"Your hate."

Withern's void-like eyes shifted towards Adel. Or...Was it them? No, they didn't look like the officer anymore. He could only see himself, standing with red stained on his outfit. The first time I failed..."Years. I can't stand it!"

"Seems like it finally takin' a toll on ya. This is your breaking point, ain't it?" Adel guessed, his words barely managing to reach the teenager's ears.

"N-no shit- Agh!" Withern felt a stabbing pain in his heart, paralyzing his entire body. He could only stay kneeling and looking at what was now his reflection. "How do you know what this is?

"It's best if ya don't know." Adel wrapped both hands on the handle of his revolver and aimed. "I'm going to save ya, Withern. Can you trust me?"

"Y-yes, but why?" Withern lost it. He could only hear his own voice talking to him, talking about saving. 'Saving'... don't make him laugh. There was nothing he could possibly save. Every time he tried it never worked, so how can now be any different? "Why bother anymore? It's clear I'm worthless and nothing but a burden. I can't save anyone, so why save me?"

All he could think about was ending what he started. Ending himself. He should've never been allowed to help anyone. Summoning his spiked bat, he glared at himself and swung with incredible force. "I should just die!"


Dammit. How many of these incidents are going to happen?

It always seemed like more and more humans were corrupting. Nowhere in human history had so many humans succumbed to negative emotions to the point it altered them. Negatively seemed to be taking the entire human kingdom by storm lately with no explanation.

It was as if humans were becoming more sensitive to their emotions, or maybe hate was a disease slowly gaining more and more traction as time goes on. Adel worked for the police force, but he had his own investigation going on, trying to figure out why humans were corrupting. He had amassed over 50 incidents in the span of only a year. While that number wasn't high, a single corrupted individual could cause major havoc - the latest tragedy proved that. Only three, including himself, had some sensibility.

Adel had originally been here due to the massive imbalance he felt coming from such a secluded place. The imbalance was always associated with corruption, his trait made him in tune with it, so to feel such a high magnitude in a lonesome area worried him. Something was always off about this town too, having been attacked by a senseless monster and housing a determined human for some time. The files in regards to the place and its residents were rather vague too, almost none of the teenagers involved were accounted for.

It made him realize...One of the only three teenagers from the Sicko Incident registered as citizens, and he was standing right in front of one. Didn't he see this human on tv? Withern was his name if he remembered correctly. They ran off after their soul was shown. He guessed their current state was only of the many reasons why he ran - or why they were like this. It was a good idea to keep tabs on people like them.

When he arrived to Our Town, the place was littered with strange figure-like humans amongst the flames. They were all clearly deranged and overtaken by hate, there was no reasoning with them - aside from the general fact they worked with the other corrupted humans. This was a coordinated attack. All of them were dead now, he had shot and killed as many as possible, but now there was the aftermath of their effects: this teenager.

He would've killed Withern, as most humans who corrupt become senselessly violent with no chance of redemption, but it felt utterly wrong this time. There was just something disturbing about killing a kindness soul, especially one overcome with hate. Killing a survivor of the Sicko Incident didn't seem logical either, alongside the fact they knew what they were being infected with. What did this teen go through to generate something that completely opposes their trait?

At first Adel thought talking would work, ignore all the hate and hurt laughter they had, but it quickly became evident he had arrived too late. The burning of Withern's home completely drove them over the edge from whatever other demons they were suffering. His only option now was to subdue the possessed human.

Seeing the teenager take his first strike, he crossed his arms and endured the attack. It was unnaturally strong for what should be a purely defensive soul, pushing his grounded body back a few feet as well as cracking his aura. He took aim with his gun and fired at Withern's right leg, missing entirely. They predicted the move or anticipated it somehow by means the officer was unaware of, shocking him. "Dammit, he couldn't have at that spee-"

Withern's bat appeared right up in Adel's face. Without skipping a beat, he shifted his gun and shot at the bat, countering the gravity of the attack. Backing up, cold sweat came upon the human. They know how to fight. Kindness humans usually don't... He lowered his gun to his waist and placed his hand over the hammer. In only a second, a rapid succession of bullets came the corrupted teen's way. They managed to dodge the first two, but the sheer number forced them to raise up a vile shield of kindness.

The bullets shredded the defense like paper, striking Withern in the chest numerous times. He collapsed onto the ground and growled to himself. "I'm a failure." he gripped at his wounds, forcing them to patch up through his passive healing. In a matter of seconds, he was back up and ready to fight again, sending broken shards of his shield at Adel.

Regular bullets wouldn't work on Withern it seemed, Adel didn't have much time to reload his weapon either with the quick recovery his opponent had. He aimed his revolver and charged up a load of darkened justice magic from the barrel before firing a split beam of bullets to strike each shard like a widespread shotgun. What the hell kind of move is that?!

"It was pointless to ever try helping people when this world spits back at our face..." Adel froze for a second at those words, buying Withern enough time to throw a sharp-edged shield into the officer's arm. He grunted in pain and looked down at the shield. He saw it reforming to a blade and quickly ripped it out, throwing it back at the corrupted teenager. They caught it and used it to block the incoming beam of justice magic he went on to summon.

He's turning his defense into offensive attacks. He had to end this fight somehow, it was clear Withern wasn't letting up to their assault. Their speed and physical capabilities were no joke either, he had no idea how they were capable of such feats without perseverance powering them. Was this really a once kind-hearted person he was stopping? There were so many questions.

Before they could land a kick against his sides, Adel turned and grabbed the leg with his free hand and fired a point-blank shot at Withern's face. Despite that, the human followed up with an attack, hammering their bat at the arm and forcing him to let go. He grunted and shook his bleeding appendage, eyes slowly darkening. Withern needed to go down, but it was hard to find an opening. If he destroyed their shields they'd use the shards to compensate and heal whatever damage they sustained. At the same time, they were able to deduce his next action on occasion.

Blood dripping, the corrupted teenager looked at Adel with kindness flaking off a shield wrapped around his face. He barely sustained any damage and reformed the cracked, murky magic into small orbs. Extending his hand out, the spherical objects shot towards the cowboy human.

"Fuck!" Adel pointed his revolver at the ground and launched himself into the air with a compressed, yellow blast. Looking from below, he saw the orbs coming after him and took aim up at the sky. "Forgive me for this, but I have no choice!" Pulling on the trigger, a singular, dark magical bullet flew high up and out of sight. Only a second later and a hailstorm of bullets came down, destroying Withern's attack and falling towards them.

"I hate you." A multitude of shields covered Withern's position, used to block the rain of incoming justice. Every shield broke, leaving only the shards that he'd quickly gather and send at Adel like an imitation of their attack.

Poor kid... One hard pull on the hammer and trigger lead to a massive blast of magic emitting from Adel's iron weapon, decimating the would-be onslaught into nothing. The officer then landed on the ground, using a quick shot to break the fall. "Still standing?"

Rushing forward, Withern swung his bat down on the ground, narrowly scraping Adel's arm as they dodged. He looked at the officer, eyes pitch black, dilated pupils, and in a crazed glare. "Our friends will figure out what happened to Our Town and it's all your fault." Whatever the teenager was saying, Adel knew it was being directed at himself. he was still generating hate inside, and in the dangerous form of self-degradation. "So let's end this. You and me." He snapped his fingers to generate his next attack...

But nothing happened.

"What?" Withern extended an arm out to try again. Nothing. Did he run out of magic? That quickly?

Adel raised his gun and fired at Withern's bat, knocking it out of their grip. Shock filled Withern's face, then anger, then... acceptance. Much to the officer's surprise, they just gave up, falling to their knees and suddenly sobbing. He didn't expect the fight to end so abruptly, it was almost hard to accept that was the case and pointed his gun at the teenager's face to get some sort of reaction. Nothing came from it, they were incapacitated by their own sorrow. "...Huh."

"Of course I failed again, I can't do anything r-right. I can't even stop myself." Withern chuckled then screamed. "What am I doing wrong!?"

This kid really is in some hard turmoil. This wasn't something Adel could help Withern with, even though his inherent need to screamed at him. He could help subdue them, but all that mental trauma was another level that required time. A single answer, a single interaction wasn't going to cut it. "You'll learn.

turning around his revolver and holding it by the barrel, the officer knocked Withern unconscious by the handle. "I promised I'll save ya, but I can't promise it'll work."


Super Short Story

Betty and Kumu took refuge inside a cave as it poured outside, thundering every few minutes to remind the two of the miserable conditions outside. The dark cavity wasn't the two's first choice, but it was certainly better than relying on a rotting shack or the trees looming outside. Both did a subpar job in providing cover unlike where they were now, but also Betty felt strangely tied to the place.

It was as if she knew this cave before and looking over her shoulder, she could see Kumu having similar thoughts with its eyes shifting around in curiosity. " Feeling the same thing as me, huh?" Seeing her friend nod, she sighed and faced the deeper section of the cave, further down from where they were at. It was near impossible to see anything without a light source. There was something down there, her mind itched to know.

Summoning her sword of determination as a sort of glorified glowstick, Betty held out the weapon as she explored the cave with Kumu lingering behind. For the first minute she thought it'd be a fun little exploration quest she and her friend would be going on, but the further she went the more her fear began to act up. How on curiosity was slowly forming into hesitation, the pink in her hair slowly made its way up the strands.

"Suddenly I'm regretting this." Betty murmured. Maybe there's something dangerous down there? Once her heart began pounding from the irrationality she felt, she stopped in her tracks and grimaced. "Kumu, stay behind me for a second."

She thrusted her sword forward and into the darkness, watching the red glow illuminate the walls and flooring around it as it flew. Moments later it would strike the ground, right in front of two skeletons. "That can't be..."

Nerve wracked, Betty forced her shaky legs towards the scene. With a closer look, she could make out the two bodies of former royalty many centuries ago. Their clothing was still intact, allowing her to make out each individual she could recall from her memories. "my...m-...Th- that's our..." feeling her stomach twist, she kneeled down and covered her mouth.

Those bodies, they were her creators, the very people who constructed her, dead in some unexplored cave. This was essentially their grave and she was right in it...But she wasn't dead like them. "I'm okay...I'm okay... I'm not dead with this body..." Her eyes trained on the skeletal remains in front of her, glowing bright pink with fear. She would never die like them, never fail again. As long as she lived, she could...she could...

"This is my determination!"

A voice echoed in the girl's mind when she noticed the position of both bodies in front of her. All the fear she had suddenly washed away and her mind settled. She saw two hands twined together, past death they had never let go. Amends had been made many years ago.

Betty was the result of those amends. How could she forget her purpose, even for just a second?

With a deep, shaky breath, she picked up her sword and slowly formed a thankful smile. "Ah yes... As long as I live, I'll ensure this world's survival. You two won't regret it."

That said, she turned away and left the grave of her creators - for now, at least. "I'll make the right choice..." Peering outside, she could see the once-dark clouds relinquishing their presence. The rain stopped. "...The best choice."


Notes:

• Originally, I wanted to make this a short chapter with just two thousand words to explain why Withern called Mila.

• Withern doesn't remember calling Mila.

•The super short story is based on the small comic Cami did of Betty finding Agate's body.

• Adel's soul is the inverted version of justice.

•There's a multitude of ways HATE can generate, including hating one's self.

•Natural inversion is a long, painful process.