It's time, beauties and gentlebeauties. We're here. Took us ten chapters to get here, but here we are. First, reviews.
Zillowzest: Glad to hear it...err, read it? Meh, fuck it, just happy to know you're enjoying.
Wingah: You're god damned right she is.
Undertale's Toby Fox's brainchild, not mine. Likewise, you can thank XWolf26 for DoubleTale, and Wingah for the DoubleScramble Sprite Comic. With the obligatory shit out of the way, let's do this thing.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Or a sword. Or any number of sharp, bladed implements. Much like the ones that began to fill the sky, before my hand snapped forward and ordered them to fall like rain. Frisk darted between polygonal blades and pixelated spearheads, shattering any that drew too close with a deft swing of their knife as they rushed to close the distance between us. My arm snapped up, and a cluster of pikes, halberds, and rapiers rose from the tiling between us. Frisk just barely managed to skid to a stop on the slick floor, their eyes widening as they turned to their left. Those wide eyes seemed to stare at me as their head tumbled to the ground, separated from their torso by an ax that had sprouted from one of the pike shafts as the pixelated pole-arm spun in place. Shatter. Flash.
Frisk navigated my rain of metallic death with more confidence this time, which made me a little nervous. I threw a hand forward, a phalanx of low-res shortswords firing at them in sequence from above my head. They side-stepped one, ducked and rolled under the next few, before shattering the last with an upward slash as they rose to their feet and continued their advance. I panicked as they got closer, less than a dozen meters away and closing in rapidly. More swords and spears streaked towards the child, and they scoffed. They carved through the fragile projectiles, only to let out a curse as a chain wrapped around their foot. The spiky ball attached to the end dug into their ankle as the morning star yanked their legs out from under them and sent them slamming back first into the tile. They scarcely had time to piece together how it happened before a sword as broad as their head erupted from their chest. Shatter. Flash.
I grit my teeth as Frisk smirked at me, and I couldn't help but feel like it was a bit colder in here. I stomped a foot, and a wave of pixelated death rose to meet Frisk halfway as they charged at me. The sweater-clad murderer leapt into the air, and my eyes widened as a gun appeared in their hand and they began to open fire. The low-res weapons glitched out and shattered as a bullet grazed my shoulder and pinged off the gold of the throne I was still sat upon. My heart pounded as I instinctively recoiled from the gunshot, abandoning the throne in favor of scrambling to get out of Frisk's line of fire as more bolts streaked past me.
I stifled a scream as a couple shots tore through my leg, causing me to stagger and crash to the tiled floor. Blood mingled with the water that seeped into my clothes as Frisk drew closer with knife in hand, circling around me like a shark. Their feral grin made my Patient soul quake on my chest. I grit my teeth and threw an arm up, a pair of warped Tournesol blades erupting from the floor and impaling Frisk from behind. Their plundered knife was replaced by their gun as they grit their teeth and took aim, and I scarcely had time to reach my arm out before-
BANG!
My chest heaved as I stared at Frisk's blade riddled corpse, their gun clattering to the ground as their soul began to crack. A glance to my left revealed a few dyed hairs had fallen into the water, having been sheared off my skull by a bullet that had been centimeters from splattering bits of my thinky meat over the ground. Shatter. Flash.
Frisk seemed especially eager this time, opening up with a hail of gunfire as I responded in kind with a scattershot of knives, needles, and ninja stars. They shattered like glass as the streaks of red light tore through them, and I was once more forced to abandon the throne. I managed to land on my feet this time, throwing an arm to the ground and causing more weapons to fall from the ceiling, hammers, mauls, and clubs threatening to cave Frisk's skull in or outright crush them.
They gave the attack a cursory glance as they ran, reaching up and shattering a few of the weapons with well placed gunshots without even breaking stride. The rest of the arsenal crashed to the earth around them, sending shards of tiling and drops of water spraying into the air, but I didn't notice. Frisk had only gotten faster since Waterfall, and now they were already much, much too close. My heartbeat screamed in my ears. Or maybe that was just the scream that tore itself from my throat before Frisk stifled it with the business end of their knife. Shatter. Flash.
I nearly staggered as I found myself staring at Frisk once more, Tournesol dangling limp in one hand, the other outstretched to the Save point next to me. My free hand reached to my throat, my breath coming in quick, short little bursts as Frisk sneered.
"...is that it?" Frisk asked, their expression twitching as anger and amusement fought for dominance on their face.
"Sh-Shut u-"
"Is that all you've got!?" Frisk bowled over my half-hearted response with a shout as they rushed forward. My arm trembled as I summoned another salvo of weapons, the one in my hand glitching and flickering between different resolutions as my focus wavered. I couldn't stop thinking about how cold the room felt. How the splashing of their boots in the water sounded more like crunching snow.
They shattered the first few swords with a couple punches, their Tough Gloved fists slapping aside the halberd that followed like it was made of styrofoam as they furiously closed the gap. I took a hasty swing at their head, and immediately regretted it as they ducked the slash and broke my arm with a brutal uppercut. I cried out in agony, Tournesol dissolving into pixels and strings of code as Frisk grabbed me by the collar of my garish pink sweater.
"Where did all that bluster go, huh!?" Frisk demanded to know as they slammed a fist into my gut, causing me to hack up blood all over their face.
"You stumble into my life like an idiot! Try and play the big damn hero! Get everyone's hopes up and talk all that shit!" They punctuated every accusation with another punch to my gut. The first couple bruised the skin. The next cracked the bone. The fourth outright snapped a few with a horrific crunching sound.
"Yet now you look like you're about to piss yourself! Where's the anger!? The hate!? The quips, the brutality, the fight!?" They hammered each question in further with more punches to my shattered ribs. They threw me to the ground with enough force to crack the tiling and send water spraying up around us, glaring at me as their Busted Gun replaced one of their gloves.
"...I told you not to disappoint me. Don't bother coming back unless you're ready to die."
BANG!
Shatter.
*Get your head out of your ass and get back in there.
Flash.
Chapter Ten: Big Damn Hero
*The heroine has appeared.
*Make an example.
Once more I found myself staring at Frisk from across the Throne Room, my heart hammering in my chest as I faintly trembled. They stared at me, their dull maroon eyes devoid of emotion, of life. Said eyes lazily drifted to a spot in the air nearby, and they heaved a sigh.
"...whatever, do what you want…" Frisk grumbled, closing their eyes and heaving a sigh. "...what a let-down."
When their eyelids parted again, I knew immediately that I wasn't looking at Frisk anymore. Their eyes had been swallowed in a deep darkness, tiny pinpricks of light trained on me as a lazy grin stretched across his borrowed face. He let out a chuckle, deeper in register than Frisk's voice normally was, and stretched.
"Heya. You've been busy, haven't ya?" Sans asked, idly fiddling with the knife he'd been left with.
"...yeah, y-you could say that…" I hesitantly replied, the warmth in my chest only barely managing to get the trembling to cease.
"You remember what I said last time, Marian? About jokes not bein' as funny when you re-use them?" Sans twirled the knife around before returning it to Frisk's inventory with a shrug.
"Vaguely." I shrugged, stuffing my off-hand into my pocket as I let Tournesol's tip rest on the ground.
"Well, I think I've found a weird exception. Wanna help me test it out?" The skele-ghost asked, a femur slowly rising from the ground beside him. He pulled it from the floor, the bone looking to be about the length of a baseball bat as he rested it on his shoulders.
"I-I'm not really in the mood for jokes, Sans." I answered, raising an arm to the ceiling as a few pixelated swords appeared in the air above me, all their points trained on the ghost's fleshy vessel.
"Awww, that's too bad, Mari, cause ya see…" I didn't wait for Sans to finish his sentence, throwing my arm forward and signaling the volley to fire. I recoiled as Sans managed to close the distance in mere seconds, weaving between the magical projectiles like they weren't even there before caving in my skull with his fucked-up bat.
"I think you're already gettin' the hang of the punchline!"
I staggered to the side, my vision swimming as I reached out towards my attacker. Sans laughed in my face as the glitchy sword I attempted to summon dissolved as soon as it appeared, before sweeping my legs out from underneath me.
"Ya see, Mari, a joke like this doesn't just happen outta nowhere. It requires a bit of setup, and a short & sweet punchline that the audience ain't expectin'. You followin' me so far?" Sans lectured, chuckling as I writhed on the ground, scarcely able to tell which way was up as my head throbbed.
"Eh, I'll tell ya more when ya get back. See ya on the other side!" I could barely make out the snapping of fingers before something blunt and sturdy punched a hole through my chest. My soul quivered and cracked as I hacked up blood. Shatter. Flash.
"Ayyy, Mari! Glad to have ya back! So, anyways, like I was sayin'-" Sans casually ducked underneath a trio of swords, side-stepping an ax as it tore a gash in the tile before exploding into knives which he casually batted aside with his home-run bone.
"Shut up!" I shouted, my teeth gritting hard enough I worried they might crack and my eyes stinging as I summoned a group of pole-arms to skewer Sans from below.
"-a good joke requires set-up! And lemme tell ya, there's a lotta ground to cover for this one, so strap in!" The cheeky ghost ignored me as his club extended, allowing him to use it to spring over the patch of pointy death before spinning in the air and tossing the bone at me like a javelin. I let out a yelp and ducked, shards of bone digging into my skin and getting caught in my sweater as the calcified projectile shattered right about where my head had been seconds ago.
I hopped off the throne, throwing an arm out to order another hail of weaponry before letting out a curse as I tripped over a tiny bone sticking out of the ground. My vision filled with stars as I felt my head crack against another one with the full momentum of my body falling like a sack of bricks.
"Ya see, once upon a time, a kid fell down Mt. Ebott. Alone, scared, they made their way through the Ruins, only to realize that they weren't alone, and that monsters weren't as scary as they were cracked up to be." Sans drawled, slamming a boot into my ribs and sending me skidding across the slick floor as I hacked up blood. He easily sidestepped the broadsword that fired at him from behind, and shattered the heavily pixelated hammer that fell from above like it was nothing.
"As they ventured past the Ruins, they met all sorts of different folks, makin' friends around every new corner as they journeyed. They laughed, they cried, they loved and they died, until finally, they came to the end. Facing Judgment, and a monarch who wanted their soul to free her people." Sans continued, casually raising a hand and forcing me to roll out of the way of a patch of bones that threatened to skewer me.
"G-Get to the point!" I shouted, throwing both my hands forward and attempting to drown Sans in pixelated steel. He didn't even bat an eye, clearing his throat after impaling mine with a bone that fired from the floor beneath me. Shatter. Flash.
"Every good comedian knows how to deal with hecklers, Marian." Sans remarked, hopping over an ax that tried to lop his borrowed torso off his legs before shattering a spear aimed for his skull with a downward swing of his bat.
"Anyways, the kid made it to the end, though not without some blood and dust being spilled. Things weren't exactly left in the best state, but hey, they could go home now, right? 'Cept they weren't happy with how it ended. So they went back." The possessed husk used his bat to vault over another spread of knives and ninja stars, closing the gap and bringing his blunt instrument down on my head.
His weapon came down with the force of a comet, the sound of it crashing against Tournesol echoing in the chamber as my legs nearly buckled. How the hell did he do that with such little leverage? Was Frisk's body just that strong now with all that LOVE? I didn't have much time to think it over before Sans shotgunned a kick into my chest, sending me staggering back into the throne while he back-flipped off me. He left a trail of finger bones as he sailed through the air, which all fired at me at once as he landed and turned me into Swiss cheese. Shatter. Flash.
I grit my teeth as the pain of wounds that no longer existed slowly faded, glaring at the possessed child before me as I trembled with fear and rage.
"The kid did their best to find a better way, helped out friends, dug a bit deeper into things that they maybe shouldn't've, but for a good cause. When all was said and done, everyone was happy. The surface was a whole new world of possibilities for everyone..." Sans didn't make any move to attack yet, and neither did I.
"Until they Reset. Again." A set of bones rocketed at me, forcing me to dive out of the way before retaliating with a phalanx of pixelated swords. They shattered against another set of bones, scattering shards of conjured calcium and metal across the ground. I threw a hand down and rained steel on the throne room, only to watch as Sans danced between the blades, points, and bludgeons before disappearing into the forest of weaponry.
"The kid still wasn't happy. They wanted to see what else they could change. What else could happen if they only put the effort in to find it. They Reset again, and again, and again, bringing everyone to the surface only to yank them right back. Then they began to wonder what happened when people went missing." Sans explained from behind me, my eyes widening before I was sent ass over tea kettle with a sickening crack of his bat greeting my skull.
"People started dying. Not a lot at first, a Froggit here, a Gyftrot there…but that didn't change things enough. More and more people began to die over the course of the Resets. It didn't matter to the kid, after all, they could always just bring it all back to the start, and everything would be fine. No one would remember, right? Except someone did." Sans strolled over to where I was struggling to climb to my feet. I sucked down an energy drink before throwing my hand out, summoning a fragile wave of weapons to try and turn the comedian into a pincushion.
Sans laughed as he tore through the wave of projectiles with one of his own, before a bone stabbed through one of my legs, pinning me to the floor. "Eventually, Marian, the kid asked themself a question. What if they killed everyone? What would happen then? Who'd try and stop them? What more did these people have to offer them?"
I cried out in agony as Sans shattered bone, both his conjured one and the ones supporting the muscles in my leg, with a swift kick to my knee that sent me collapsing to the ground again. "So, and stop me if you've heard this one before, they started to carve a dusty trail through the Underground. No monster was spared, and no mercy was offered to the people they once called friends and family. They piled dust and LOVE higher and higher...until it finally came time to face the music." Sans chuckled darkly, idly twirling his bat as he strolled around me while I writhed on the floor. "The Judge remembered everything, and he wasn't about to let them off scot-free. They'd pushed a step too far, took things and people that didn't belong to them, and he couldn't let them pass with just a sneer and a few harsh words."
Another scream accompanied a bone piercing through my shoulder, and the swords I'd been conjuring to rain down on Sans dissolved into pixels before I could finish them. He loomed over me, his grin looking much more like a furious grimace. "The kid couldn't seem to finish the job, no matter how much they fought, no matter how many times they threw their corpse at their foe. The Judge didn't care. There would be consequences for their actions. The kid was still in denial at this point, so they cried out for help. Made some deals they maybe shouldn't have."
"Ya see, Marian, I've been with them since the very first time they fell down. I've seen them laugh, love, bleed, cry, struggle, fight, die, live, I've seen it all Marian. And when they called out to me, I realized I had a very special opportunity. No one, not even the Judge, could really bring 'em to heel, Marian. No one could make them suffer the way they'd made others suffer. No one…but me." Sans' cold stare bore into me as he watched me fruitlessly struggle.
"They gave it all up, Marian. For the chance to win. To say they did it, they came saw and conquered, saw every dialogue option, every outcome. They sold their soul for that victory, and I made them regret it." Sans crouched down next to me, his grin a touch more sadistic as his borrowed voice slithered down my spine.
"They thought they were above the consequences. That they could just get to the surface again and forget the whole sordid affair ever happened. And ya know what I did? I waited till they were feelin' all cozy and safe…and pulled them back. To the very beginning. No matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't escape. The very place they'd obsessed over, scoured every nook and cranny of, would be their prison!" Sans had to restrain himself, letting out a few chuckles before continuing. "Eventually, they kinda stopped bothering with any other routes. Guess they think that one day I'll get bored and stop bringing things back after they Erase it all." Sans finally let himself burst out laughing, a long, cruel-sounding laugh that went on for ages longer than it should've.
I could barely feel my limbs. Much of the water around me was dyed a deep crimson. My soul trembled on my chest as I struggled to process what he'd been saying. Why would they do this? Why would he do this? It was hard to think through the haze that settled over my mind. Something didn't sit right, however. As my vision began to go dark, bits and pieces of Chara's story came back to me. I wanted to throw up. I wasn't some kind of hero. I couldn't save Frisk, or myself, or anything. I was going to be trapped in this room with a vindictive bastard of a ghost, being slapped around like a punching bag for eternity. Cracks spider-webbed through my trembling soul, and everything was washed away as it shattered to pieces.
When I came to, I wasn't in the throne room anymore. That much was obvious, as I stared into a sky filled with metallic clouds that crackled with pale lightning. The air was completely still, and as I picked myself up off the dusty concrete, I found myself recognizing bits of my surroundings. I was in the middle of the street, surrounded by aged and weathered monoliths of brick and mortar, some of their windows being shattered or boarded up. Front stoops were littered with cracks and detritus, doors barely hung by their hinges…somehow it wasn't as sharp a decline from the real city as I'd have thought. My attention was pulled from my surroundings by a faint, golden will-o'-the-wisp. It hovered around me a few times, before floating down the street, stopping briefly as if beckoning me to follow.
And follow I did, my legs taking me down the sidewalk on autopilot. Everywhere I looked, I noticed familiar street signs, rusted and warped. Echo Flowers grew in place of the weeds that threatened to one day reclaim the whole damn city, once we were all dead and gone. Ash and dust replaced much of the gunk and leaves that clogged gutters and drains. Eventually, I realized where the golden flame was taking me, though not before I was already standing across the street from it and looking up. It was my apartment. Well, really, it was my folks' apartment, but they'd always told me their home was my home. It never really felt like it, try as they might.
I brushed these thoughts to the side as I slowly made my way inside, up flights of stairs that creaked and groaned in ways that probably meant the whole damn thing was gonna collapse one day. It was easy to forget the strange circumstances for a moment, the monsters, the magic, the murder, and just pretend I was coming home from the shops. I fought the urge to call out into the house as I opened the unlocked front door, taking in the familiar atmosphere of the dinky little apartment. It wasn't much, one open concept room that served as living room, dining room, and kitchenette dominated most of the square footage, with a single bathroom crammed into a wall between a closet and my parents' room, and a smaller room on the other side of the closet. I made my way past the lumpy couch and the scratched up table towards that smaller room, stepping inside and gently closing the door behind me.
It was pretty spartan, all things considered. I never bothered to put up any posters, the only things occupying the standing bookshelf were game cases and the odd trinket here or there. My twin bed had been stuffed into a corner, with my TV and consoles set up on a table in the corner next to it. Toss in a desk on one of the walls where a beat-up old laptop sat, and you had the place I spent the majority of my free time in. I couldn't help but wonder just how much time I'd spent in this room. How many hours had been wasted on old RPGs that no one cared about anymore? How many nights had I wasted away in bed, staring at the ceiling and telling myself things would be different tomorrow? I shook my head and turned away, making my way back out into the main room of the apartment.
The wisp was hovering near the window which led out onto the fire escape, and I suppressed a sigh as I trudged over to it and climbed out. The aged, rusted metal didn't sound too pleased as I put my weight on it, but it didn't feel like it was about to rip itself off the wall of the building any time soon. My gaze trailed upwards, the golden flame having begun floating towards the roof. I followed it up, each step producing a dull clunk as I went.
Eventually, after a bit of awkward fumbling with the tiny-ass ladder they'd put in to join the roof and the top floor's fire escape platform, I managed to haul myself onto the rooftop. As I got to my feet and brushed myself off, I came face to face with a scarlet-eyed mirror.
"...what the hell?" I mumbled, staring at the doppelganger, wondering if I was about to be stabbed and replaced or some other creepy bullshit. She didn't look too pleased, her piercing red gaze boring into me as we stared each other down. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a copy of Tournesol sticking up out of the ground, its runes faintly pulsing red.
"So…is this it? Is this where it ends for us? Getting beaten to death by an unhinged ghost?" She asked, crossing her arms over the front of her white mage hoodie.
I tried to say something, but my response died on my lips.
"You have every possible advantage you could ask for. So many people have sacrificed so much to get you to this point. So why? Why are you still holding back? Frisk sure as hell isn't, and don't even get me started on the comedian." Boxy asked, her teeth gritting as I continued to flounder.
"How much longer do you feel like wasting away!? Letting life pass you by second by second, day by day, week after month after year!?" She demanded, taking a step closer as I felt a tightness in my chest.
"I-I don't know…" I choked out, finding it hard to breathe the stagnant air around us.
"Are you waiting for life to make it easier for you? For the life you want to be served up on a silver platter? When are you gonna grow up and accept that your perfect opportunity isn't coming!?" Boxy stung.
"N-No, I-"
"Cause waiting Patiently's worked out fuckin' brilliantly so far! How much longer would you still be working at that shithole and living with your foster folks if this isekai bullshit hadn't happened, huh!?"
"I-I don-" I stammered before gritting my teeth as she cut me off again.
"How many people might have lived if you'd gotten off your ass and taken the situation seriously from the start?" Boxy taunted.
"...shut up…" I growled out, my hands balling into fists at my sides.
"How much more time could you have had for infusions if you'd listened to Chara in the first place and booked it to the lab instead of trying to play hero?"
"Shut up." I demanded again, taking a step towards Boxy.
"Did Toriel give her soul up for nothing!?"
"SHUT UP!" I roared as I took a few more steps forward and buried my fist in my other self's face. Instead of staggering back and nursing a broken nose, she scattered into pixels and strings of code around me as I furiously ground my teeth.
*Shut me up yourself. I'm done wasting away waiting for better days. Aren't you?
"Of course I am!" I shouted at my text box.
*Then quit dragging your feet. You know what to do.
My gaze turned to the sword still stuck in the ground, humming with power and potential untapped. My feet kicked up dust as I stomped over to it, reaching out to take it only to gasp as it nearly burned me. I grit my teeth and reached out again, wrapping my fingers around the searing hilt and growling as I struggled to pull it from the brickwork, inch by painstaking inch. Red static began to crackle around the blade, climbing up my arms as my growl escalated in volume. The wind began to howl, sweeping red embers and dust into its currents as brilliant crimson bolts of lightning began to crash in the distance. My heart was beating a mile a minute, a roaring bonfire trapped in my chest and held in my hands simultaneously as I wrenched Touresol from the earth, and the world was washed away in searing radiance.
*Be the big damn hero.
Sans stared at the corpse lying in the water at his feet, still occasionally chuckling to himself. It'd been a few minutes since her soul shattered, its washed out teal pieces still drifting in the shallow puddle that coated the floor. As funny as it was, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, though that could just as easily be some of Frisk's emotions bleeding over. Sharing a body was kinda weird like that.
"You sure didn't amount to much, did ya? And after all that fuss, and all the trouble I went to to fill ya in." If the corpse held any answers, it was being awfully cagey with them. "Welp, looks like this has gone on long enough." Sans shrugged, turning and beginning to stroll past the throne. Since he was such a nice guy, he'd just finish this route off for Frisk himself, and then their little routine could continue. Maybe they'd be desperate enough to try and kill Cter early again. That'd be a hoot.
Some of the pieces in the water began to twitch.
Sans ignored Frisk's whining in his text box. It wasn't as funny when he couldn't hear them piss and moan when they bantered with him. He made it all the way to the door on the other side of the room, only to hesitate at the threshold as a pulse of something washed over him. Something hot, and volatile, and strangely familiar.
The bleached shards of my soul drifted back over to my corpse. Each fragment glowed a faint crimson as the culmination of my being began to painstakingly piece itself back together. It crackled with scarlet energy, the same color which began to overtake the washed out cyan hue that surrounded its silver core.
"...wh-where the ffffuck…do you think…you're going…" I wheezed, gripping the bone that was jutting through my shoulder and breaking it off before slowly pulling myself off of it as I sat up.
Sans turned around, staring at me in silence as I snapped the bone puncturing my knee in half as well before pulling an energy drink from my inventory and downing it in record time. I climbed to my feet, hacking up a bit of blood and nearly staggering as my knee finished healing.
"Huh. Guess the joke's on me this time." Sans muttered, grinning as I turned and glared at him.
"...get back over here…so I can kick your ass." I ordered, Tournesol appearing in my grasp in a burst of red pixels, embers, and code.
Sans burst out in mocking laughter, over-exaggerating every motion as he keeled over and slapped his thigh. I raised a hand to the sky, briefly interrupting his laughing fit with a sword blade rising up and stabbing through his leg. My hand clenched into a fist, another blade growing from the one still embedded in him. And then another grew from that, and then another from that. Before long, his entire borrowed body resembled a grotesque metal tree, and he laughed right up until the moment his stolen soul shattered, and the world was engulfed in a flash of light.
Once more I found myself sat upon the throne, staring down at a child in a dusty sweater. Except it wasn't really a child, it was the ghost puppeting their body, who's glowing white eyes were fixed on mine. My eyes burned with the same shade as the soul hovering over my chest, a gleaming, Determined red. I pushed myself up from the throne as Tournesol formed in one hand. I rested my blade on my shoulder as I slowly approached Sans, my off-hand moving to wipe the blood off my mouth before I remembered that it was never there in this timeline.
I stopped and stared as Sans turned towards what I could only assume was his text box, cocking a brow at whatever he'd read.
"Weren't you the one throwin' a hissy fit that she sucked?" Sans smirked as he read the response. "You really wanna bother with another go-around?" Once again he waited, before rolling his eyes with a chuckle. "Eh, what the hell? Have fun, kiddo." Sans shrugged and closed his eyes, before a pair of manic maroon eyes snapped open and locked onto mine.
"...I was hoping you were holding out on me, Marian." Frisk purred, grinning like a loon as their Stolen Knife and Busted Gun appeared in their hands.
"Don't care," I fired off a spear at them that trailed sparks, smirking as they slapped it out of the way, "didn't ask."
My smirk grew wider as the weapon exploded into dozens of smaller knives, needles and throwing stars, tearing them to shreds and sending them staggering to the side. A casual stomp sent them flying into the air as a warhammer rose up to slam into their chest, before an ax fell from on high and split them in two. Shatter. Flash.
||SQ Chips - Final Fantasy III "Battle 2", by Nobuo Uematsu & Hige Driver||
Frisk didn't seem too bent out of shape as they marched back into the throne room. In fact, they looked strangely eager as they opened fire with their Busted Gun. A tower shield appeared between myself and Frisk with a thought as I stood from the throne, parting the sea of bullets as I summoned Tournesol in a burst of code and polygons. I broke into a sprint, letting the shield lead the way as I closed the gap, only to skid to a stop as Frisk leapt over the top of the shield. The sound of steel meeting steel rang in my ears as I stopped their blade with my own, before a mace sprouted from Tournesol's blade and crushed Frisk's nose as it sent them flying.
The child struggled to reorient themselves before crashing to the floor with a splash. They blindly popped off a few shots with their beat-up revolver, the bolts of determined red light going wide before a chain wrapped around their wrist. The spiked ball at the end bit into their flesh as they were yanked into the air, before being slammed down onto a bed of swords and spears and sending blood spraying into the air. Shatter. Flash.
I took a deep breath as I stood up from the throne, staring at Frisk as they rushed in with their knife. It didn't matter whether they deserved this or not. It didn't matter who's feet the blame laid at. This had to end, and I wasn't going to back down if they weren't. My soul pulsed, heat filling my body as I raised a hand to the sky. Dozens and dozens of weapons obscured the ceiling before I threw my hand back down, and pointed, steel death rained. Frisk took a few shots at a couple, only to have to stop and hold their ground as their bullets bounced off the more durable, higher resolution weapons. They managed to deflect the weapons immediately threatening them, only to let out a yelp as I nearly took their head off by lobbing Tournesol like a spear.
I swung a pair of flails, their chains extending and wrapping around a couple monstrously large greatswords before reeling me in at high speed. I pulled my knees to my chest, shotgunning a kick that once again nearly one-shot them as they ducked, letting me soar over their head. I grabbed onto one of the halberds as I flew, swinging around it and launching back towards Frisk. They were ready for me this time, showing as much by deflecting the rapier I'd summoned to stab them with to the side before burying a Tough Glove covered fist into my stomach. I hacked up blood as my momentum and the force of their punch combined to snap a few ribs, before they plunged their Stolen Knife into my chest. Shatter. Flash.
I threw an arm out to the side, a phalanx of swords appearing above my head before firing forwards in a group as Frisk and I ran towards each other. "Don't you ever get tired of all the fighting?" I asked as I parried a slash to the left, stomping a foot and forcing Frisk to back off before a spear could create a brand new hole in their face.
"Too used to it by now." Frisk replied, deflecting a couple knives that fired from my sweater sleeve, before rolling out of the way of a sword bigger than them that threatened to split their body in two as it plunged into the floor. I replaced Tournesol with a heater shield as I closed the gap, blocking a couple shots before ramming the shield into their chest. Blood sprayed out their back as an arsenal of deadly blades bloomed from the shield's face and punched dozens of holes through their torso. Shatter. Flash.
We returned to battling in silence for the next few reloads as we traded kills. It was kind of awkward, if I'm honest. What was the protocol here? Were we supposed to just stoically battle to the death until one of us gave up? The silence was making me antsy, and I was strangely relieved when Frisk piped up before I sat up from the throne at the beginning of a reload.
"Why is your hair pink?" Frisk asked, staring at me as if they were only just now seeing me.
"...c-cause I thought it'd be cool to dye it…?" I lamely answered, blinking owlishly at them before glancing away.
"...looks a bit shit." Frisk replied, only to have to duck as a conjured sword nearly punched straight through their face.
"Listen here ya lil' shit!" I wheezed as I tried to hold back laughter, caught off guard by the blunt, honest response.
"What color was it before?" Frisk asked as they rushed in to capitalize on my fit of laughter, hopping over an ax that tried to slice their legs off and rolling under a shotgun spread of knives.
"It's fuckin' strawberry blonde or some bullshit, whatever the color's called. What, did you think I was some kinda anime protagonist?" I replied, blocking a slash with Tournesol and knocking aside the follow-up lunge before stomping, forcing Frisk to backflip out of the way of a maul that rose from the floor to smash into them.
"Kinda? You came out of nowhere saying stupid shit and holding a sword!" They replied, blushing faintly as I laughed more and conjured a rain of swords to keep them busy while I regained my composure. I didn't even see the knife flying towards me until it was buried hilt-deep in my skull. Shatter. Flash.
That reload seemed to have broken the tension, and we found ourselves chatting about all sorts of inane bullshit while trying to kill each other over the following fights.
"Where'd your hoodie go?" Frisk asked as they deflected an overhead swing from Tournesol before lunging at me with a stab towards my shoulder.
"You fuckin' ruined it, remember?" I grumbled, ducking the stab and burying a fist in their stomach as a caestus formed around it, before a quarterstaff extended from the fist weapon and sent them flying across the hall.
"You do-cough cough-realize that Save Points mend your clothes, right?" Frisk stared at me like I was a fucking idiot as they climbed to their feet. I said nothing, suddenly finding a really neat looking bit of tiling to stare at.
"How the hell are you even still alive?" Frisk asked, laughing their ass off at my expense.
"Ohhh, yeah, yuk it up ya little punk, like you had allllllll the answers when you first got dragged into this bullshit." I bit back, firing off a salvo of knives and needles which Frisk rolled out of the way of, right into the giant claymore that rose from the floor to punch a hole in their chest. Shatter. Flash.
"Why do you have mall ninja magic?" Frisk asked, rolling out of the way of an oversized greatsword as it rose up front the tiles they'd just been standing on.
"I'm not a fuckin' mall ninja you ass! It's old school RPG shit!" I shouted back, rushing in with a mace and taking a swing at their dome, turning the heavy weapon into a much lighter dagger to make it easier to abruptly change direction and stab at Frisk after they leaned back and let the blunt instrument sail past them. They casually deflected my dagger with their knife, and I spun around as my dagger morphed into a giant wooden club that sent Frisk flying across the throne room.
"So you're just a nerd, my bad, so much cooler!" Frisk snarked before kicking back up onto their feet and fanning the hammer on their Busted Gun. Lucky little shit managed to nail me in the skull before I could bring up a shield in time. Shatter. Flash.
"Why do you ask so many weird fuckin' questions anyway, ya little brat?" I asked as I threw my arms to my sides, a cavalcade of sharp instruments of warfare filling the air behind me before I threw my arms forward, giving the order for them to fire.
"Cause you're new. I don't know all your dialogue yet." Frisk replied, ducking and weaving between swords and spears, occasionally knocking them to the side as they made their way towards me.
"Dialogue? What, am I just a fuckin' VN route to you, kid?" I threw a hand up, forcing Frisk to hop over a patch of blades that sprouted from the floor. Tournesol appeared in my hands as they drew closer and took a swing at my neck, their blade stopping dead in its tracks as mine got in the way.
"Maybe? It's hard to tell, ask me again in another thousand or so matches." Frisk replied, and I nearly forgot to duck under a stab as their honesty caught me off guard. A ball and chain wrapped around their neck, yanking them away from me before they could grab hold of it and slice it in two with their Stolen Knife.
"Not sure I really want this to last that long, Frisk. Can't we just give this whole peace thing a chance?" I asked, frowning and conjuring a tower shield as they took aim and opened fire with their gun.
"Tried that already, kept waking up back down here. Kinda over it." Frisk continued to shoot at the shield, but a glance towards the top made it clear that they were vaulting over it again. I grimaced as their hand was pinned to the shield by a blade that grew from its edge, before finishing them off with another that punched through their heart. Shatter. Flash.
I continued to ask questions of my own as the fights dragged on, only to get more and more noncommittal answers.
"What did you do for fun before you fell down?"
"Don't remember."
"What's your favorite food?"
"Anything that isn't down here."
"Play any sportsball?"
"Not in years."
Each answer painted a bleaker and bleaker picture. How long had they been down here? How long had Sans been tormenting them over their mistakes? How long had they been resigned to this death march? If they had an answer, they never gave it, and our fights began to drag on for longer and longer in total silence as they stopped asking or answering any questions.
I had lost track of how many times we'd done this song and dance. It was probably somewhere around the first couple hundred or so, but we were definitely well over four hundred by this point, if I had to hazard a guess. All I could be certain of, was that I was mentally exhausted. It was the same shit, every, single, time. Someone initiated, we traded glancing blows that threatened to kill with the first clean hit, someone fucked up, they died, and we took it all from the top.
||Kill the tunes||
The red souls burning on our chests wouldn't let us back down or stop. I wished they would. Hell, maybe it'd have been easier if Sans and Chara hadn't shared their stories. Then I could look at Frisk and treat them like they were just some kinda murder hobo. Instead all I saw was a messed up kid, who'd been given a power no one should be trusted with and allowed to go hog wild with it until someone turned it against them to torture them as their comeuppance. The kid couldn't even remember basic shit about their life before this time loop, they'd been doing this for so long. Surely this was enough? Surely this wasn't worth torturing not only the kid, but anyone else who could remember the Resets, right?
I stared across the room at Frisk, my breathing ragged as they slowly climbed back to their feet. We were both littered with knicks and bruises. This fight had been going on for a while, neither of us managing to give any ground that we didn't immediately reclaim. We'd fallen into a fucked up rythm, and I hated the way I already knew their next move.
I blocked a swing for my head, Frisk already moving out of the way as I stomped and a giant greatsword grew from the floor between us. They opened fire with their gun as a set of shields formed to defend me while scimitars and flamberges and arming swords hounded their every step, never quite managing to catch them out as they closed the distance. I side-stepped a stab, and they caught the fist I attempted to bury in their stomach, before spinning and shitwhipping me across the room. I caught myself on the shaft of a spear that sprouted from the floor, swinging around and sending myself flying at Frisk again. They ducked and let me soar overhead, reaching up and snatching me out of the air before slamming me into the floor. A set of well placed swords forced them to back off before they could close in for the kill, and I climbed to my feet.
Once more, we stood across from each other, panting as sweat and blood dripped off of us. How much longer could I keep this up without snapping? Would we be here forever? Would I lose myself the same way Frisk had? I was already struggling to recall minor details, friends' usernames, games I'd planned to play, my schedule at my shitty dead-end job…I wanted this to be over.
Frisk and I's attention was stolen from each other by the strange, monochromatic embers that began to dance around the room. They swirled around, faster and faster as they gathered on a spot between us, glitchy particles and patches of static bursting into flames as slowly, painstakingly, a shape began to emerge. A humanoid figure seemingly made of those colorless flames dragged himself out of the hole in reality, climbing to his feet as a set of clothing began to form around him. A long black coat, a white sweater, dark gray slacks and dress shoes, and a pair of glasses that seemingly always caught the light and obscured his eyes with a glare materialized in bits of glitchy particles and static.
Before either myself or Frisk could get over our shock and manage to get a word in edgewise, his arms snapped towards us and yanked us off our feet by our very souls. The world was seemingly engulfed in monochrome flames and static as a voice like a crackling fireplace resounded in my head.
"I look forward to your triumph, Marian. Don't disappoint me."
I groaned as I sat up, once more in the strange wasteland of ash and dust. The rolling hills were now dotted with various weapons sticking out of the 'sand', in varying resolutions and styles. The lightning which crackled in the inky black, metallic storm clouds overhead was a deep, determined red, and the sky beyond them was seemingly filled with static.
As I climbed to my feet, I realized I wasn't alone. Standing across from me, less than a dozen meters away, was a short skeleton. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts with white stripes running down each side, and a gray t-shirt. His eye sockets were empty, save for little pinpricks of light that scanned the skies before stopping to rest on me. His face was seemingly molded into a permanent grin, which grew wider as he saw me.
"...heya. You've bee-"
"Cut the shit, Sans. Give me Frisk's soul, or I'm gonna kick your ass and take it myself." I cut Sans off with no hesitation, my ruby-red eyes burning holes in his skull.
"Oh, really now? That's a pretty bold claim to make given our track record together, Mari. You sure you can back it up?" The skeleton challenged, one of his eye sockets igniting with maroon flames as his stolen soul appeared on his chest.
"I'm gonna have to." I responded without missing a beat, my own silver-cored, blazing scarlet soul appearing over my chest as Tournesol appeared in my grasp, and I leveled it at him.
"One way or another, this ends. Now."
Final Round. T.
Here's hoping I can manage to stick the landing. Shit's coming to a wrap on this first arc in either this coming chapter, or the one after that. Many thanks as always to the Council for listening and lending their support, reading and providing feedback while helping keep this train rolling at a speed that isn't quite so glacial as it was at the very start. As always, feel free to Favorite, Follow, and Review if you enjoyed the chapter. Gettin' to chat with y'all and see how you're liking it makes my day.
I'm the TiredWhiteMayge, about to head to bed at a half-decent time toni-...3am? Meh, sounds about right. Goodnight y'all.