TWO updates. In ONE month. Let's fuckin' gooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- ...ahem. So, yeah, hope y'all're ready. It's here. It's queer. It's ready to...drink...beer? I didn't think that one through, and I'm too lazy to think of something else, so fuck it, it stays. Aaaanyways, review time!

Wingah: Many thanks, Wingy boi. Frisk and Sans dialogue is fun to write.

Zillowzest: HELL YEAH!

Eternal: Yes, oh.

WhiteAngelKillua: While the clarity and enthusiasm are both appreciated, you didn't need to paste the *entire* review in the clarification, lol. Still, thanks a lot for taking the time out of your day to share your thoughts. It means a lot. I'm glad to hear you like Frisk & Marian, cause they're kinda the crux of this entire story atm, lol. As for DoubleTale vs Rewritten...it's not even a contest. Please catch up on DT:R if you can, it's just really well put together, and almost every interesting idea put forth in the original gets done a lot more justice in the Rewrite.

By the by, if you're unaware where to find the DoubleScramble sprite comic, it's at doubletaleau on Tumblr, where Wingah sprites and writes the whole damn thing by his lonesome, because he's some kinda talented cool guy or something, Idunno. He's also the same dude who was working on the DoubleTale sprite comic, if y'all were curious.

With that all out of the way, let's get on with things, shall we? Or did you want to sit through another reminder about how I don't own Undertale, DoubleTale, or DoubleScramble? No? Thought not.

"Human…no…Frisk, I have some things to say to you." Chara's voice echoed strangely in the spacious golden hall. Their piercing red stare never left Frisk's bored face as they spoke. "...I've learned a lot of things since last we met. Things I wonder if I was better off not knowing."

Frisk stretched and stifled a yawn with one hand, scarcely paying attention as the sentry began their monologue.

"You've hurt an unfathomable amount of people. Walked down this road time after time. All told, you really don't deserve anything less than what you have coming to you…" Chara hesitated, their smile faltering a little, "...and yet, I walked that same road, once. The only difference is that I had someone to pull me away from that life."

Frisk groaned and rolled their shoulders, wondering what weapon they should use this time. The Busted Gun was nice and all, but it hardly had the same visceral appeal the Stolen Knife or Tough Gloves did.

"There's still time, Frisk. You can stop this, unmake this hell and start anew. I could show you how." Chara's eyes narrowed, almost looking as if they'd closed entirely as their smile returned in full force. Their words fell on deaf ears, they noticed, as Frisk's weapon shifted from the empty firearm they'd walked in with to a pair of 4 oz. gloves.

Frisk's hair shadowed their eyes as their whole body tensed, before they took off at a dead sprint. Chara stood there, their eyes fully closed now as they held their arms out for a hug, their smile unwavering in the face of their impending demise. Frisk swiftly closed the gap, their footfalls the only thing to break the silence.

Three…Chara's limbs ever-so-slightly tensed.

Two…the sentry's teeth grit behind their plastic smile.

One…every muscle in their body coiled like a spring.

A sickening crunch of bone echoed throughout the hall as Frisk's lower jaw was caught between their upper jaw and the toe of Chara's boot. Blood and shards of teeth sprayed from between their lips, their maroon eyes widened in shock as they saw the cruel smirk that had replaced Chara's phony smile. They didn't have long to process that they'd been conned before the back of their skull took some time to get acquainted with the heel of Chara's boot on its return trip to the ground. Another set of horrid crunches and a cry of pain heralded its safe landing on the tile, cushioned by layers of bone and flesh. If Frisk had the time to check themselves over, they'd have surely noticed that their nose had been crushed as well. Chara loomed over their would-be assailant, an almost perverse sense of being whole once more filling the sentry as they slipped their knife into their palm. Its blade found a lovely vacation home in Frisk's throat, having come in through the back of their neck with surprising ease.

"Remember that I gave you the option," Chara's voice intoned as Frisk felt their soul begin to chip and crack, before shattering into a million pieces.

Chapter Nine: RNG Manipulation
"I'm worried Chara will go without me or something. Get themself hurt, somehow."

Frisk gasped as they found themselves standing at the beginning of the Judgment Hall once more, their arm outstretched to touch the Save Point. In the distance, they could see the sentry pull out their phone and flip it open, only to snap it shut and pocket it again.

Chara allowed themselves the faintest of smirks as they watched Frisk's expression go from bored to furious the second they reached their arm to the side, presumably calling upon their Save File to undo whatever grievous harm the substitute Judge had inflicted upon them previously.

"Greetings, Frisk. It would appear you chose poorly," they remarked, recalling their plan for the first encounter and resisting the urge to grimace. Shock value was as important as efficacy in this, they supposed, but the brutality still left a bad taste in their mouth. They'd left this behind for a reason, after all.

"Shut your mouth you shitty mirror!" Frisk snarled, pulling out their Tough Gloves and once more sprinted towards the sentry. Chara tipped their head to one side to avoid a jab before slapping its follow-up aside with their off hand. They reached out to snatch Frisk's wrist in a vice grip, silencing their cries of impotent rage with a single stroke of the knife. Chara nearly laughed. It was terrible how such a fragile thing as the human body could wreak so much havoc, they mused as they watched the gleaming red soul on Frisk's chest crack and shatter.

Frisk stood in silence for a few precious moments after winding back the clock. Then they began to chuckle. Then cackle. They couldn't help but double over as they howled with laughter. It was just so damned funny. To think, someone like this had been hiding just beneath their nose this whole damn time. Someone they'd long ago dismissed as set dressing, a glorified item box that they had to unwrap to get their real weapon. Someone who they'd died twice to in not even as many minutes.

Chara cocked a brow as they watched Frisk reach out to a point in the air, only to begin…laughing? What was with this child? A quick glance at the text they just received didn't explain much. It was only their third attempt.

"Greetings…?" They offered, tensing up slightly as Frisk's laughing fit died down and their head snapped up to lock eyes with the sentry.

"You'd better not disappoint me, Chara," Frisk replied, their tone disturbingly calm. Their gun was once more replaced in favor of the pair of Tough Gloves as they went on the offensive.

The sentry in question didn't bother dignifying that with a response, instead dropping low to sweep Frisk's legs out from under them as they approached. The sweater-clad maniac hopped over the sweep, pulling their knees to their chest as their bladed Ballet Shoes materialized over their feet before shotgunning a kick towards Chara's head. Chara rolled to the side before springing back to their feet and launching a brutal snap kick at Frisk's head as they fell, bone crunching beneath boot as they went tumbling across the hall.

Their skull cracked against stone as they slammed back-first into the wall, their vision swimming as they struggled to climb to their feet. Their efforts were cut short as Chara closed the gap between them within moments, running the still healing enby through with a haft of hardened black ink which ended in a wickedly sharp spear tip. Frisk glanced over at their rapidly draining HP, letting out a gurgling laugh at how little the numbers mattered as the yellow gauge emptied and their soul shattered like glass.

Mixed feelings fought within Frisk over the course of these fights.
Fighting Chara was nothing like fighting Cter. For starters, they were fully comfortable in melee, and had the weaponry to back it up. Cter would only ever pull them in close to taunt them and slap them around a bit, before tossing them back into no-man's-land to continue bombarding them with magic. All the LOVE they'd accrued gave them an edge in weathering such magical assaults, but Chara's knife and spear afforded no such safety net. They drew Frisk's blood as easily as any other, and it was as exhilarating as it was frustrating.

"Why can't you just stay still and let me shoot you!?" The murderous child cried out, only half joking as they fired bolt after bolt of Determined light at Chara, who knocked each one aside with a well timed swing of their spear as they closed the distance before running Frisk through again. Chara silently stared as both the gun and one of the stolen protein shakes slipped from their victim's hands as they collapsed.

That stoicism was the thing that really pissed them off, Frisk realized as they slowly bled out. Whether they were breaking Frisk's bones, or impaling them, or charging headlong through gunfire, Chara remained silent as the grave. Whatever they were doing to keep from falling into a pattern, it didn't seem to afford them any recognition between attempts. This made the fight dreadfully boring in the moments between skirmishes. Even on his worst Resets, the Judge almost always had something to say or do that caught them by surprise when they danced in this hallowed hall. Every taunt had a snappy comeback, every brutal attack came with an equally cruel quip, every attempt was a rollercoaster of different emotions! They missed Cter, they admitted to themself as their soul cracked and shattered once more.

[47]

Chara's grip on their phone tightened as they looked over the text from Gaster. They'd done this forty-seven times already. What was wrong with this kid? The sentry wasn't left much time to ponder this question as bolts of scarlet light streaked down the corridor to riddle them with holes. Cter's spear appeared in their hands and they wasted no time in bringing it to bear as they rushed to close the gap, knocking projectiles aside as they went. The bullets took chunks out of the pillars and tiled floor and shattered entire panes of stained glass as they glanced off the hardened ink, such was the weight of Frisk's LOVE.

The sentry stabbed at Frisk's abdomen, only for them to spin out of the way and open fire again. Chara couldn't shake the feeling as they brushed more energy bolts aside that Frisk wasn't as eager to close the distance and meet them in close quarters. That was fine with them. They had ways around that. They kept up the pressure, making sure to keep Frisk's attention on their spear as they continued to try and skewer the child with it. As determined red light built up in the chamber and the hammer cocked back on their Busted Gun, a knife sprouted from between their eyes. The gun tumbled to the floor as the energy gathered within sputtered out. Shatter. Flash. Back to the start.

[140]

Chara grit their teeth as they stared at the number on their phone screen. Well over a hundred attempts by now. Did Frisk really hate them that much? They snapped their phone shut and pulled back their arm, Cter's spear appearing within their grasp as they glared at the child down the hall. They appeared to scarcely be paying any mind to what Chara was doing in the shadow of this pillar, too busy snapping at nothing to consider that the sentry would be the one to cast the first stone. Or, well, spear in this case, Chara mused as they hurled their weapon with murderous intent.

The weapon scarcely made a sound as it sailed through the air, the golden light filtering into the room reflecting off its wickedly sharp tip as it flew. By the time Frisk noticed the sunlight glittering off the polished spearhead, it was already too late. Shatter. Flash. Once more, with feeling.

[357]

Chara had to take a deep breath to steady themselves when they saw the number Gaster texted them. Nearly 400 attempts. A part of them wanted to feel proud that they'd held on for this long. Another part wanted to feel sick, realizing that they'd probably hurt this kid in some pretty fucked up ways by this point. They settled for burying their emotions behind the plastic smile they'd worn in their darkest days, pulling out Cter's spear, and getting to work. Reload 358 wasn't going to happen on its own, after all.

[714]

Chara's eyes widened as they stared at their phone, numb. Frisk…what was wrong with them? That they felt the need to go this far? To fight this hard? The sentry couldn't possibly fathom what drove this child. All anyone had ever wanted down here was to live happily. Frisk had, if Gaster was to be believed, given them a happy ending at one point. And yet there they were, rolling their shoulders at the end of the hall and preparing to march to their death once more. And for what? The thrill? The accomplishment? The thought made Chara's teeth grit hard enough to creak. Or was that the plastic of the phone caught in their iron grip, slowly being crushed under the weight of their fury? Their blood began to boil as they thought about how hard everyone had fought, how many times Cter and Monster Kid and everyone else had laid down their lives for this child's sick, twisted games. Enough. Was. Enough.

||Undertale: No More Deals [SoL. Ver], by solunary||

Chara's phone fell to the Judgment Hall floor in bloodied pieces as they tossed its corpse aside. That torn-up hand clasped around the haft of their fallen crush's spear as they twirled it around a few times to get a feel for the weight before slamming the butt of the weapon against the ground, the sound echoing throughout the hall as they stared daggers at Frisk.

Their legs were coiled springs as they stared through their target. Sizing them up, looking for weak points, faults in their form. Chara wasn't looking at Frisk anymore. They were looking at a victim.

Frisk tensed up, about to meet Chara halfway…only for their mouth to be forced open as the sentry's fist buried itself in their abdomen, several bones cracking under the pressure as they hacked up blood. Chara didn't let up, driving their knee into the cracks and turning them into fractures, before following up with a swift kick that fully snapped their ribs and drew out a cry of agony from the child. Frisk collapsed to the floor, desperately fishing through their inventory for a healing item. Chara's knife blossomed from their arm, pinning it to the tiled floor as the substitute Judge drew closer, flipping their spear one last time before plunging it through Frisk's soul. Shatter. Flash.

Chara's phone fell to the Judgment Hall floor in bloodied pieces as they tossed its corpse aside. Frisk smirked as they watched their would-be murderer twirl the dead man's spear around to feel out its weight before slamming the butt into the floor. The start of a pattern. Frisk tensed, waiting for Chara to close the gap, and caught their brutal gut punch between two Tough Gloved hands. Frisk's smile became feral as they used their mirror's arm to vault over them, whirling around and squaring their shoulders as they stepped into a punch that would pierce straight through the sentry's torso. Chara ducked under the punch, before standing up straight and ramming the back of their head into Frisk's face, their nose collapsing under the force. The sentry whirled around while the dust-coated child staggered, plunging their knife through Frisk's throat. Shatter. Flash.

Frisk's teeth grit as they used their mirror's arm to vault over them, whirling around and taking aim with their Busted Gun while they cocked the hammer back. Chara swept Frisk's legs with their spear and pulled their own to their chest, shotgunning a kick into the child's chest with a sickening crunch and sending them careening down the Hall. Frisk rolled to a crouched position after tumbling for a few yards, biting into a piece of chicken with a snarl and opening fire on the sentry. Chara took off at a dead sprint, using their knife to deflect bolts of Determination as they closed the distance. Frisk's mind raced for answers as they continued to unload shot after shot, coming up short by the time Chara was already upon them and running them through with the Ink Spear. Shatter. Flash.

Their gun disappeared back into their inventory as Chara's knife did the same, and a pair of gloved hands wrapped around the haft of a pitch black spear as it attempted to skewer them. They yanked the weapon to the side, before lashing out with a brutal right hook which stopped dead in its tracks as Chara's fingers wrapped around their wrist with bone-crushing force. The sentry pulled Frisk in, crashing their forehead into their opponent's with a savage look in their eyes. Frisk stumbled back, only for a knife to sprout from their forehead as Chara's arm whipped forward. Shatter. Flash.

Frisk yanked the spear to the side, feinting a right hook before letting go of the spear and blasting a punch straight into Chara's solar plexus that sent the sentry skidding back a few paces with the sound of cracking ribs. As a reward for Frisk's first clean hit of the fight, Chara crashed the jet black haft of their spear into the side of the violent child's head. They staggered to the side as the horrid crunch of their skull nearly caving in echoed in their ears.

Wordlessly, both combatants dug through their inventories, stuffing healing food into their mouths as fast as they could stomach and letting the magic therein stitch their battered bodies back together. The LOVE fueled warriors glared at each other, tension building as they let a pair of protein shake bottles and chocolate bar wrapper fall to the floor. Chara held their spear in a white-knuckled grip as they stared Frisk down. Frisk's fingers clenched into fists in front of them, and they fearlessly met the sentry's glare with their own.

The pair rushed towards each other, Frisk ducking underneath a stab aimed at their throat and dove in to tackle Chara. The sentry stood tall, however, letting their spear disappear into their inventory as they gripped Frisk's head in both hands and slammed it down into their rising knee with a terrible crunch of cartilage being mulched, following up with a boot to the chest which sent Frisk staggering back. With a growl, they planted their feet and moved to counter with a brutal left hook, only for their eyes to widen in surprise as Chara ducked underneath it and took hold of the offending appendage. Using their shoulder as a fulcrum, the sentry grunted with exertion as they tossed the child up and over, slamming them into the floor hard enough to send cracks through the tiles.

Frisk grit their teeth and rolled to the side just in time for Chara's boot to slam into the space their throat had occupied not seconds ago and crack the tiles further. They sprung back onto their feet and took aim with their Busted Gun, nailing Chara in the shoulder with a couple rounds before Frisk was forced to duck underneath a slash of the sentry's knife. Chara snarled and flipped their knife around so the tip faced down, bringing it down on Frisk's head before the kid rolled back and out of the way.

While Chara was busy wrenching their knife back out of the floor, Frisk munched on another piece of chicken, sighing as they once more were able to breathe through their nose. They were running low on supplies, and Chara didn't look to be slowing down much as they chomped through another chocolate bar and advanced on Frisk. Chara's eyes gleamed with malice and fury that contrasted strangely with the eerie smile on their face as they lunged at Frisk with the Ink Spear, the child scarcely managing to dip and dodge around the flurry of strikes as they back-peddled.

Frisk ducked low to try and sweep Chara's legs out from under them, sunlight gleaming off the blades of the Ballet Shoes that materialized over their feet and threatened to slice clean through sentry's ankles. Chara leapt over the sweep and high into the air, twirling their spear so that its wickedly sharp point faced the earth as they descended. Frisk let out a frustrated scream as they stumbled over their bladed shoes while trying to get out of the way, only to be cut off as Chara landed spear first on their chest. Shatter. Flash.

Frisk's Ballet Shoes disappeared into their inventory as they backed up a couple paces while opening fire on the airborn sentry, the crimson bullets only grazing their opponent as they plummeted to earth. Chara shot at Frisk like a rocket as soon as they touched ground, leaving their spear embedded in the tile in favor of lashing out with their knife. Frisk narrowly avoided losing their shooting arm as the sentry streaked by with their knife outstretched, and the child stifled a cry of pain as sharpened steel bit into their flesh when it passed. Chara whirled around and rushed in again, and Frisk barely had time to finish chugging down another protein shake and equip their Tough Gloves before the substitute Judge was upon them.

Frisk ducked under a horizontal swipe, lashing out with two quick jabs to Chara's abdomen before sidestepping a vertical slash. The child planted their feet and cocked back a fist, eyes gleaming with twisted Determination as they prepared to send Chara to meet Cter with a matching chest hole…only to catch a fist to the throat that produced an awful series of crunching noises as the sentry crushed their windpipe. Shatter. Flash.

Frisk ducked a horizontal swipe, lashing out with a couple quick jabs before side stepping a vertical slash. They reached up and grunted as they caught Chara's fist in the palm of their hand, pulling the sentry in close and crashing their skulls together. While their opponent reeled, Frisk spun around, a bladed ballet shoe forming over their foot as they delivered a roundhouse kick that promised to take Chara's head off. The sound of steel meeting steel rang out through the corridor as Chara's knife stopped Frisk's leg dead in its tracks.

Rather than sit there and lock blades, Chara shifted their stance and ducked under Frisk's leg, letting it continue its warpath before plunging their blade into Frisk's knee. The sweater-clad child let out a scream of primal fury as they drew their Busted Gun and fired, the sentry merely grunting as they took the bullet to their shoulder and ripped their weapon free. Frisk grunted as they popped off more shots, forcing Chara to defend themselves from the volley of Determined red bullets while the child stuffed their face with some sort of seaweed veggie wrap.

Frisk sprayed and prayed as Chara continued to slowly advance, parting the sea of Determined energy with naught but a knife and a desire to hurt. Nervous sweat began to bead down Frisk's forehead. They were so close. They could feel it, one well-placed shot could finish this. The problem would be making it, as Chara was so keen to demonstrate. Frisk's teeth grit as they swapped their gun for their gloves and rushed in to meet Chara halfway.

The sentry tilted their head and let a jab sail over their shoulder, knocking its follow-up aside with their other arm. They ducked beneath another bladed roundhouse, before retaliating with an upward slash that Frisk narrowly backed out of the way of. They aimed a jab at Chara's knife-wielding hand, only for the sentry to toss said knife to their off-hand and grab Frisk's wrist in a vice grip, pulling them in for the kill with a roar as Chara pulled their knife back. Frisk grit their teeth and they roared in kind, pulling back a gloved fist as their eyes gleamed with the fell light of their LOVE-stained soul. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the pair of murderers defiantly roared in each other's face. Muscles tensed and adrenaline surged as knife and fist raced each other to meet their mark first.

BANG!

Blood sprayed out across the tiled floor as the crack of gunfire echoed throughout the chamber. All fell silent as Chara's shaking eyes fell first to their opponent's triumphant smirk, blood dribbling down the corner of their mouth. Their gaze then fell to the knife buried in Frisk's chest, mere inches from the child's heart, and lastly to the barrel of the gun which was pressed against the hole in Chara's chest where their own heart used to be.

||Kill the tunes||

Chara coughed up a bit of blood as their grip on both their knife and Frisk's wrist slackened, and they fell to their knees. They stared up at Frisk, a mixture of disgust and pity written clear across their face.

"...I hope…you find whatever…you're looking for…on this twisted road…" the fallen sentry choked out, before collapsing onto the floor. Their soul trembled as it rose above their chest, chipping, cracking, and finally shattering.

*and then there were none.
*your LOVE increased.

Frisk ignored their text box as they pulled their prize from where it was buried in their shoulder with a grimace. The hole in their chest slowly sealed up as they chomped down on their other veggie wrap before washing it down with their last shake. The child stared at the corpse on the floor in front of them, feeling their victorious smirk slowly slip off their face. No one left to stop them. No one left to break up the tedium. This run was over, and they'd likely never see another like it again. Frisk didn't know how to feel about that. They turned towards the throne room, heaving a sigh and beginning to march once more.

Deep in the darkness of the void between timelines, a screen flickered and wavered like a mirage. Its light reflected off a pair of glasses, casting their lenses in a harsh golden glare as the humanoid mass of colorless flames wearing them observed the aftermath of the fight. The anomaly was certainly still something to contend with, and as he had suspected, the Judge and Sentry had been enough to make up the difference in the subject's LOVE. His feelings on the matter were surprisingly contradictory. The man who had once been charged with playing the role of the Judge couldn't help but worry that the anomaly might prove too much for the would-be hero. The man who had spent what felt like an eternity observing and studying the timeline from outside of its confines, however, was thrilled. Just how would a clash between his project and the anomaly go if they both were allowed to approach their full potential?

The burning scientist only occasionally took his eyes off the screen, watching as drifting embers slowly danced around him before merging with his being one by one. He'd be ready to return soon enough. He had plenty of time to pull himself together, assuming his hypothesis about the girl was correct. If it wasn't, he supposed he could always try again, but then the Judge and the anomaly wouldn't have the same reactions. It could taint his results.

No, no, better for all involved if this went according to his calculations. The alternatives would all take far too long for his liking, and he was rather tired of the void. To burn actual oxygen again would be a blessing. He returned his attention to the screen in front of him as the anomaly left the broken Sentry behind. It was almost time. If the man had a mouth, its corners would certainly be stretched into a manic grin. As it was, his flames merely crackled and burned a little hotter as he observed the true beginning of a wonderful new experiment.

I groaned as my senses slowly returned one by one. I smelled the musty scent of stagnant water mingling with those of dust and blood lingering in the air. I heard birds chirping in the distance, water dripping onto the floor, and the sounds of footsteps echoing from down the hall. I could taste the faintest hints of cinnamon & butterscotch, alongside the metallic tang of blood lingering in my mouth. I could feel the rigid back and solid arms of the throne I had been sat upon, as well as the many gouges taken out of its upholstery. My eyes cracked open, and I could see the faint sheen of water coating the throne room's floor, as well as the many glowing blue spears that were embedded in the floors and walls.

Slowly, delicately, I rose from my seat. This throne wasn't mine, after all. Something about my body felt…different, or, did it? I couldn't tell, and I didn't have time to think too hard about it before my eyes locked onto a figure ahead of me. They lingered in the entrance to the throne room as their expression shifted from detached boredom to shock. My eyes widened in recognition as Frisk's equally wide eyes stared back.

"O-Oh! …uhhh…s'up?" I awkwardly greeted, my nerves threatening to get the best of me. A faint warmth in my chest reassured me that I wasn't alone, and I felt myself relax a bit.

"...ohhh, you know, nothing much, just got done with the only challenge left in this run. Won a prize and everything!" Frisk casually replied whilst waving a blood-covered knife around.

"Really? And what makes you think that?" I asked as my eyes narrowed, feeling my magic pulse in time with my heartbeat. No longer did it roil and rumble like a storm threatening to break. It knew its place, just as I did mine.

"Really? Did you forget your track record against me already? Need a reminder?" Frisk threatened with a vicious smirk, their off-hand curling into a fist around one of their Tough Gloves. The sight of it brought back memories of gasping for air in the snow like a fish out of water, but my soul pulsed again, and I pushed through.

"I-I'm not the same person I was back in Waterfall, Frisk. You're not the only one who's been getting ready for this moment." I asserted, pulling the broken remains of my replica sword out of my inventory.

"Getting ready? Marian, let me be brutally honest with you. After Waterfall…I practically forgot you existed." Frisk stung, smirking and putting away the Tough Glove as they dismissively waved their Stolen Knife.

"Did you forget who snapped your wrist like a pretzel? Do I have to give you a reminder?" I threatened, brandishing my broken sword as my hand brushed against the glowing golden star that hovered next to me.

*No backing down now. The knowledge that everyone's hopes and dreams rest on your shoulders fills you with Determination. HP fully restored.

"Oho!? Still trying to play the hero, are we? Fine then, let's see what you've got, wannabe!"

They rushed towards me with their knife at the ready, their wicked smile promising brutality as their boots splashed in the water at our feet. I took a deep breath to center myself, feeling my magic thrum through my veins in time with my quickening pulse. My Patient blue eyes locked onto their Determined red ones as they closed the gap with a leap, pulling their knife back for a lethal blow.

STAB!

Frisk stared down at their chest in shock, where a warped golden blade held them suspended above the floor. The blade was lined in runes which glowed a faint, icy blue. Bits of code and pixels danced around its edge as their gaze trailed down to the broken sword from which it had sprouted. They then lifted their gaze to me, meeting my frigid glare with one of their own as their mouth turned up into a smirk. Another weapon fired from the ceiling, the pixelated longsword embedding itself to the hilt in their skull. Their soul shuddered and cracked, before shattering and engulfing the world in a flash of light.

I was sat upon the throne again when the light faded, staring down at Frisk with a faint smirk as they slunk back into the room. My soul hovered over my chest, its silver core surrounded by a frosty blue shell.

"You were saying?" I drawled, slowly pushing myself up from my seat.

"Picked up a few parlor tricks, eh?" Frisk asked, a devilish grin splitting their features as their scarlet soul flared to life on their chest.

"Just a few…wanna see 'em?" I taunted, holding my hand out to my side as a perfect copy of Tournesol assembled itself within my grasp, pixel by painstaking pixel.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told the last person who decided to crawl out of the woodwork, Marian," they began, their expression growing slightly manic as Frisk pointed their blood-stained knife at my soul.

"Don't you dare disappoint me!"

I didn't bother dignifying their petulant demand with a response as I quickly glanced over at my textbox, before turning my attention back to Frisk and steeling myself for the fight to come.

*Kick their ass.

The moment is a upon us. It's here. The big fight. Ladys, gents, theydies and all those in-between, step on up and place your bets! Witness a magical nerd and a manic enby kick the shit out of each other, live on Pay-Per-View! Hope y'all enjoyed the opening act, cause god damn was it fun to write. Bonus points to anyone except Wingy boi and Wolfy boi if they can spot the little easter egg tossed into the clash of enbies. Wing and Wolf already know what it is, and they better not spill the beans and spoil the fun. :)

Annnyways, speaking of those two, thanks go out to them for listening to me ramble about this hodgepodge of letters and ideas, as well as Ari and Gatsby for also contributing to feedback and editing! Without the wonderful work and patience of the Council, and fine folks like y'all to read and review, this story wouldn't be what it is right now. Love y'all. Favorite, follow, and review if it pleases you.

I'm TiredWhiteMayge, and it's...almost six am...shit. Good night, y'all.