There I was, ready to get some solid answers. Maybe this kid actually knew enough to get me on track, to put the threats we were up against into perspective. I stretched my right hand around the pencil, rolling it to loosen my wrist to take some notes, and I nodded to the kid.

Toriel wasn't having it.

"Absolutely not!" she shouted, holding the kid closer. The kid flinched, but buried their head further into the Monster Queen's fur. "If you require information, I am sure that Sans could provide it." She sniffed, taking a glance around the mess that Frisk had made of the papers across the table. "It is late. Though it is the weekend, we have all had a difficult day. The worries of tomorrow can wait for those younger than sixteen. If you wish to stay, Sans can show you to a guest room. Papyrus?" The skeleton in question turned a dial on the stove, probably turning the heat off. "A word, when you're finished with that. Good night, Mr. Dresden," she finished with a sense of finality.

"But mom-" Frisk said, muffled by her fur again, but she cut him off.

"No buts," she insisted. "You've had a long day, and you must rest."

"i got it, kid," Sans said from behind Toriel. I hadn't seen him move. "hold off for now. you can decide again tomorrow, alright?"

"...fine." The kid sighed.

Toriel kept the kid close, lifting the little form into her arms easily. Given her size, it wasn't surprising she had that kind of strength, but it was how closely she held the kid that stuck out to me. She held 'em close, managing to stroke the kid's hair with a paw even as she nodded to Sans, then me, and walked briskly away. Adopted or otherwise, she was scared for her kid. I could rest easy on the kid feeling like they belonged here, at least.

Less so on feeling fine with the threats to the kid, and the rest of the Monsters, because of those Wizards.

I dropped my pencil and rubbed my face with my good hand, wiping away some of the evening grime. Sans pulled out the chair Toriel had been sitting in, pushing the too-close one the kid was using to the side, and gave me that never-ending skeleton grin he always wore as he sat down. That grin, I remembered from the Gaze, that he often wore.

I've never taken the time to study just how deep the effects of a Soul Gaze are, but they tend to leave little ghost impressions of a person like that sometimes, leaving you knowing little details you'd need a long time to pick up otherwise.

"I AM TERRIBLY SORRY, HUMAN DRESDEN," Papyrus said, his voice catching somewhat. "I FEAR I HAVE OVER BOILED THE SPAGHETTI NOODLES. THEY ARE NO LONGER AS STIFF AS WHEN I USUALLY SERVE THEM."

"isn't that how they're supposed to turn out, paps?" Sans asked his brother.

"NOT ACCORDING TO UNDYNE, BUT QUEEN TORIEL ASSURES ME THERE ARE DIFFERENT WAYS TO ENJOY THE DISH, SO PERHAPS THEY WILL STILL BE OK. HUMAN?" Papyrus asked again, carrying the boiling pot back over to the sink. He reached into another cabinet I couldn't see, and pulled out a pasta strainer, and poured in the noodles as he spoke. The thin wooden spoon he was stirring with fell in with them. "I HOPE YOU ARE NOT INSULTED IF I ASK YOU TO SERVE YOURSELF. I… HAVE… THINGS… TO GO CHECK ON. SMALL HUMAN CHILD THINGS, AND LARGE MONSTER QUEEN THINGS." He put the pot down on an unused burner and quickly ran from the room.

I looked at Sans, who shrugged.

A hanging cabinet on the wall next to the sink creaked open somewhat, and I glanced at it, then back at Sans. He'd closed his eyes and leaned back. Well. I'd let him nap while I ate. I couldn't fault him for it after my own little display. Glass houses and all that.

Sure enough, the cabinet that had opened had plates and bowls and things in it, so I grabbed a bowl and, when I realized that the wooden spoon wasn't good to pick up noodles with, a handful of spaghetti (don't look at me like that, I washed my hands).

"Any sauces?" I asked Sans, but he just shrugged again. Maybe they had some hidden somewhere in that massive pantry, but if he wasn't helping, I wasn't going spelunking for a little extra flavor. I took the bowl back to my seat, sit. I licked the fork I ate pie with clean, and had a few bites of the plain noodles.

They were the single least flavorful things I've eaten in my entire life, and we're including ice chips and snow in that, but they were still… something else. At first, I'd thought that they were calories, nothing more, but I felt more full even after just a few bites. Acting on a hunch, I closed my eyes and sniffed the spaghetti, concentrating on finding any magical energies. The results were inconclusive, but maybe it was just because it'd been thrown together, especially at the end. I still ate the whole plate, seeing as it was filling and I'd skipped lunch, then took the dishes to the sink and left them there.

Sans cracked one eye open as I sat back down. "how'd you like my brothers' cooking?"

"Bland, but filling. Maybe I should have raided the fridge or pantry for something to put on it."

Sans closed both eyes and nodded, grin widening. "good to hear his spaghetti is improving. i'm glad you had some that was edible."

I took that at face value as he sat up and opened his eyes. He'd gone from completely out to completely up in that single move. I wasn't jealous of the trick.

"so..." he began slowly, "necromancers? they sounds like the kind of people who'll raise the stakes."

I chuckled. I could appreciate a few bad jokes. "I'm not sure that's what their parents meant when they told them to make some friends. They turn corpses into zombies, and they can force ghosts to come back from the other side, too," I said. I grimaced, trying to think of more I knew off the top of my head, but it wasn't much. "I'd need to do some research to be sure of much else. I was kind of hoping I'd get some more info from you guys, then go from there. These guys're walking all over the fifth law of magic, Thou Shalt Not Reach Beyond the Borders of Life, and they're strong enough not to worry about hiding it."

Sans shrugged. "well, don't be crypt-ic. what do you want to know?"

I pulled the chair in a little closer and picked up the pencil, the fresh page of my notepad still waiting for me. "Even if we didn't know about the Necromancers, the kid, Frisk, said it was Wizards who were killing you guys, and it was to get more powerful? Why would the kid say that?"

Sans' smile fell a bit. Even after having seen it a few times on his brother, the shifting bone structure made little uncomfortable tingles crawl up my spine. "something that we've been dealing with since before monsters were trapped underground. when humans kill monsters, the monsters turn into dust. that dust is like a steroid, for the body and mind, but it does nasty stuff to you. makes it easier to kill more people. i think they forget they were ever people in the first place."

I swallowed, but noted it down all the same. "Sounds like using black magic. You do a little, and suddenly it doesn't seem so bad to do more, until you're raising the dead and trying to dominate people's minds. You have to be careful walking along that fine line, because the first step off is a real doozy."

Sans looked away, like he was remembering something, and his grin pulled to one side. "those both sound like things against those laws i keep hearing about."

I nodded. "The connection isn't a coincidence. I mean, magic is a beautiful aspect of the best things in life, like a force of creation, a force of art. Every time somebody breaks those laws… it's like smearing blood and crap on an original Da Vinci painting. The world has a little less of that beauty, and it stains you as much as you stain the world. The way I've been told, the only ones you can save are the ones you catch before they break those laws and twist themselves so much there's nothing left to save." I snorted. "It's bullshit. Kids, young kids, who make mistakes, already so far gone you can't pull 'em back? I'll believe that when I see it."

"be careful what you wish for," Sans said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"don't worry about it."

I sighed, then went and grabbed my water glass from the counter. I filled it again, not sure why I was so parched.

"can i ask you something?" Sans asked as I sat back down.

"Just so long as we can get back to the details of those Wizards some time today."

He nodded, more to himself than to me. "what did you see?"

I took a deep breath, thinking about it. "Alright, before we do this, you need to understand," I told him quietly. "It's one of those mirrors that doesn't lie. You might not like what you hear."

"and you'll tell me the truth about what you saw?" he asked back, quieter this time. He was looking down, sort of like how he had in the Gaze.

I cleared my throat forcefully, and the lights in his eyes shot up to meet mine. "It's your soul, Sans. Would I lie about something that important?"

He looked to the side, more thoughtful than distant. "...depends." He met my eyes and his grin widened. "would you think it was funny?"

I blinked, considering his question.

Apparently it was for a little too long, because he continued, "you might joke about what you saw. but you'd tell me the truth if i asked. ...why am i so sure about that?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You saw my soul, Sans. You know things about me even I'm not sure of."

"...you want to know what i saw?" he asked. "like a trade?"

"Not really. I'd rather live life not knowing exactly why I freak people out, you know?"

"i guess. so…" he smiled wider. "how about that soul i've got?"

I told him. I started with the hallway, the faded gold, the dust in the air, all the windows I'd seen, everything, not leaving out any details. When I told him about the ketchup he drank, about the red line across his chest, he took my glass to the sink to refill it, and I waited for him. He was probably mulling it over, trying to decide what metaphorical meaning it had to his life. I waited. I could understand needing time to think about it.

He finally sat back down, didn't say a word. Just waved at me to continue.

So I did. I told him about the door, and I slowed down for a moment… then told him about the void behind him. The endless, all-consuming void he seemed to be trying to keep me, or I guess anyone, from diving into.

"...and that's when a ton of massive skull-things, like broken-in-half dog skulls, just appeared around you, like some kind of wall for that door in the middle of the room. You pointed at me, and then they all fired some kind of energy beams, tearing me to shreds.

"Then it ended. And you splayed your fingers at me in real life, which is why I freaked out, because you'd done it exactly the same way as when those skulls had appeared." I finished, then took a drink from the glass he'd refilled.

He nodded, tired. "yeah, i could see how that wouldn't seem like a good place to stand, with me like that. sorry, for what it's worth."

I waved my gloved hand at him, leaning back against the high back of the chair. "Don't worry about it. No harm, no foul."

We let the room fall into silence again, me drinking water, him thinking over what I'd said. It continued for several minutes. I didn't rush him. We had all night, if it came to that.

He nodded to himself, then clapped his bony hands and rubbed them together, the sound of clattering bones sending another shiver up my spine in the cool, empty air. "alright, i think that about covers my questions about me. i've still got a few about you, though."

"Hit me," I offered, dropping the pencil from as high as I could reach, watching it fall dramatically onto the notepad and bounce off. I swore lightly as it bounced off the table, and I reached under to grab it.

"You've killed a lot of monsters over the years, haven't you?" Sans asked, voice low and dangerous.

I picked up the pencil and looked back over the table at Sans as I came up, his eye sockets blank and empty. His smile hadn't changed, but it felt more sinister without the glow to back it up. "I'm guessing you mean surface monsters, seeing as you guys haven't been topside for that long. Uh, yes," I admitted. "Most of them were trying to kill and eat me, or hurt my friends."

The lights blinked back on in his eyes, and he sighed, looking down the middle of the table. "sorry. old habit." He looked back up. "what i'm worried about is exactly like what you said you were told to watch out for. you kill a lot of monsters, it gets easier to kill over time. eventually, you stop seeing people, and start seeing obstacles... or notches on your belt."

He looked deep into my eyes, those little flames narrowing into little pinpricks of light.

"it's not the kind of path somebody should be walking, if you know what I mean."

I stared back. Yeah, I felt the little tingles and crawls, but now that I knew he was trying to put me on edge, it was easier to realize he was responsible for them, magically or otherwise. I'd put good money on him doing it on purpose, too. "I know what you mean. And if there was any other way to keep my friends and Chicago safe, I'd be doing that instead." I shook my head, then put a little whisper of willpower into the pentacle I wore around my neck, under my shirt. It glowed faintly, not really enough to be seen through my shirt, and the creepy feeling passed. "I'm going to keep protecting this town, Sans. If that means I have to go toe to toe with the nastiest customers this side of Hell, then that's what I'm going to do. These things don't play patty cake or collect bottle caps in their spare time. They kill people. And yeah, sometimes I have to kill them back to get them to stop. That doesn't mean I have to like it. And if I ever did like it, and I start turning into one of those monsters?" I waved my arm at him. "Go find my friend, Michael Carpenter. Ask the church where he is. He'll help you stop me."

Sans' grin widened. "i might just do that."

"Satisfied?" I asked him, irritated. "Have I passed your little test?"

He nodded. "i think we'll be ok."

"Great. Wonderful. Fantastic." I spun the pencil in my hand. "Tell me more about the people killing your people."

His grin went back to its normal size, then drooped a bit more. "i had a pun i was going to make about paper before we moved on from tests, but it's really bad..."

"I'm sure it was terrible," I agreed, "but-"

I blinked. Tear-able.

Sans blinked back. His grin widened back to normal. "ha. gotcha."

"Forget it," I said, shaking my head again. Damn it. "The threats to your people come first."

"right. well, there are at least two of them that we're sure of, and one more we think is involved."

I waited for him to continue.

"one of them is big, like a brick wall, and wears a khaki-grey trench coat and fedora." He nodded to me. "he's not as tall as you, but he's wider, and a little fatter. he's got sideburns and a long face, and he's almost as pale as i am. he killed a few monsters that got curious about why he was watching them so closely."

I wrote down the description in little bullet points, trying hard not to think about it, or I'd get too angry to write everything down. "The next one?"

"an old man, medium height, long thin hair… what else… his skin is really loose and pale, with liver spots, and he walks around stiff, like his bones grew in wrong. he seems to hang around the first guy alot, too. out of all of them, i think he's the one who's going out of his way to fight us."

I noted the details, then underlined Liver Spots for emphasis. "And the third person?"

"i haven't seen him much," Sans admitted. "he tends to show up, look around, then leaves without saying anything. no matter where he goes, he always has a big black robe with a hood, so you can't see his face."

"Wait, a huge black robe?" I asked, pencil stopping mid-word. Just like I'd see at Morty's house. "Egh. We've met. And it's a she, not a he."

Sans shook his head. "it's a guy. trust me on this."

"No, it can't be," I insisted. "I used my Wizard's Sight. I can promise you, it's a girl."

Sans looked to the side again, thinking. "and i can promise you, i'm talking about a guy. so maybe we're both right."

"I'm not following."

"there might be two of them," he said evenly.

I huffed, but I wrote it down nonetheless. "If there are two of them, then that's at least four people- check that, five people I'm worried about now wandering Chicago, at least. If you're not counting the Ghoul, which I guess I should, so make that six." I chuckled hopelessly. "At least six people I need to worry about tearing up Chicago. Oh frabjous day, calloo callay!"

"what's that supposed to mean?" Sans asked, otherwise unperturbed at the outburst.

"Alice In Wonderland," I muttered back, then wondered about it. "You ever have a little girl fall down that mountain and come back up?"

"nobody came out from under there except frisk," Sans answered, but I'd already started waving him off.

"Nevermind. If they never take those black hoods off, it means the hitter at Morty's place, who was a girl wearing that same outfit, wasn't the same woman who hit me outside Mac's pub. She had a doctor's get-up, and so did her pet Ghoul."

"ghoul?" Sans prompted.

"Supernatural hitters for hire, more or less. They look human until they change, then their mouths stretch out twice as long and their hands turn into bone claws. You'll know one when you see it, but not unless it takes off its human glamour."

"if you say so," Sans agreed easily.

I heard somebody coming up the hallway again, Thomas and Mouse back from their walk.

"Harry," Thomas said from the doorway. He looked back and forth between me and Sans. "Doing a little better, are you?"

I nodded, then turned back to Sans. "Is there anything else you think we need to know, so we'll be ready for whatever we're up against?"

Sans chuckled softly. "just that things're shaping up to be a real shit-show," he said. "so nothing too out of the ordinary."

He stood up from the dining table and walked over the kitchen side of the room, closer to Mouse. I stood up quickly, just in case either of them might start something, but Sans just held his hand out for the dog to sniff. A couple sniffls later, and Mouse wagged his tail. Sans chuckled softly and scratched behind Mouse's ears, and the big pup let his tongue roll out, content.

"good to meet you, too, pal," Sans sighed. He turned back to me with that unending grin, and I headed over. "he's real smart, isn't he?"

"Of course he is. I'm just glad you two are on better terms."

Sans shook his head. "right. you two staying the night?"

Thomas and I exchanged glances, and I cleared my throat. "As nice as it is for you all to offer, I'd rather be at home tonight," I told him. "I still need to pick up a few things, and I need to meet with somebody tomorrow morning."

By somebody, I meant Bob. Hopefully he'd be back by now, waiting with Mister to tell me what he'd found out so I could compare it with my own experiences. And who knew? Maybe he'd have picked up something else useful that could help put the nail in this coffin.

Heh.

"Actually," I said out loud, "I've got another set of eyes on the streets on this one. If we're lucky, maybe it's just what we'll need to put a nail in this coffin." It was hard to stop myself from putting the emphasis on the word nail, but I'd pulled it off.

"heh," Sans agreed, then crossed his arms. "sounds like a real bone-a-fied detective you've got working on this."

I laughed. "In more ways than you know, bonehead."

Thomas sighed. "Is this what we've got to put up with?" He asked Mouse. The two of them seemed to decide they were done with the comedy gold Sans and I were putting out there alongside the classics, and they left the room, back towards the Beetle out front.

"Be seeing you, Sans," I told the short skeleton.

"i'll keep an eyesocket out for you," he responded with a wave.

With the pleasantries dealt with, it was time to vamoose. I snagged my staff off the counter and headed out to join the others in the Beetle.

Miraculously, my car was still working.

Maybe somebody up there doesn't completely hate me.

"Did you tell them what they needed to hear?" Thomas asked, shifting in the passenger-side bucket seat.

"I think so."

I blinked a few times, thinking back to the reason I'd been called to their house in the first place, then I swore.

"Actually, I think I only told them a few things they needed to hear. Hell's bells, I completely forgot to tell them about the White Council!"

Thomas shook his head, and we drove on in silence.

Up until we arrived back at my apartment.

I exhaled sharply as I took it all in, a scene I'd become all too familiar with in the past day: flashing lights, police tape holding back reporters, and destruction all around. For once, I wasn't in the middle of it when it happened.

I pulled the Beetle off toward my normal parking spot, but the police line was in the way, so I just parked my car next to it and stumbled out, barely remembering to put the car in park before I did. I was caught in a daze, if only for a moment, and registered the sound of Thomas letting Mouse out of the back on his side. Thomas came closer and handed me my staff. I grit my teeth, exhaled sharply, and shook out the shields of my bracelet out of my jacket sleeve, just in case nasty things were waiting for us.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more," I said, lifting the tape out of our way.

I had my police-business badge out the moment an officer started our way, but I was just waved along. Given that it wasn't somebody I recognized from the SI branch, I figured everybody had already learned it was my house, and they were expecting me.

I didn't acknowledge the reporters calling out my name. Not this time.

I didn't hear the words the officers said to me, either. I didn't quite push them out of the way, but they didn't really stop me, either. They stopped Mouse and Thomas near the entrance as I stepped down the stairs to my apartment, slowing as I took them, stepping over the shapes left behind.

The wards around Monster Manor were strong enough that I could feel them walking through, but mine aren't exactly easy to take apart, either. I'd built the magical barrier around my fortress like a single, unyielding wall of steel. There are no flaws to be exploited, no weak points to aim at, and no ways in or out without my permission, whether it's through the talisman I'd given Thomas or because I'd temporarily taken them down. Anyone and anything else would catch a face full of lightning, supercharged by the power lines that ran by my building.

Whoever had gotten through my wards hadn't bothered to take them down.

The shapes I'd stepped over were corpses, but I'd hazard a guess that they were dead before my defenses had gotten them. Whoever had done this, they didn't bother to try cracking my defenses like a safe. They'd just thrown walking corpses at it until the barrier came down.

The first clue that I was dealing with inhumanly strong undead, other than the corpses, was my front door. It's made of steel. It was also bent inwards, and I could recognize at least one of the dents as the imprint of a fist.

Before, my apartment was decorated in textures, with plenty of rugs around the old couch and with old movie posters alongside simple tapestries on the walls. I'd been particularly proud of the one with Leia next to Luke's leg, with Vader's helmet taking up most of the background.

It wasn't so nice with every single one of my possessions torn apart some way or other.

Nothing. Nothing was left untouched.

It took me a few moments of looking around at the destroyed bookcase Mister liked to lounge on, the shredded couch, my ice box thrown on its side, and everything scattered around haphazardly before I realized it:

Nothing was left untouched.

Which meant that my basement was also wide open. The trapdoor had been ripped off the hinges, and was currently sitting in my fireplace.

I didn't bother checking the bedroom. I ran straight down into my lab, where a girl in a white coat was taking photos of the hurricane that had passed through. Almost everything was shattered, broken, or hell, maybe some of it was even stolen. None of it mattered, and I even put the broken table in the middle of the room out of my mind.

It didn't take more than a second for me to search the floor, despite the mess, and the rage that had been boiling underneath my eyes turned into something a lot colder.

I shivered, looking up at the only shelf that hadn't been destroyed, where those two mounds of wax sat lazily next to the piles of romance novels, next to a conspicuously empty space.

Bob's skull was gone.