Detter had finished her draft. The assorted persons gathered shifted awkwardly, all except two; Kris and Rnd. The low light of the room made it quite impossible to read the board, at least for the normal people, but Detter and Kris could read it just fine. After all, she was a book, and Kris was a puppet. The plan was relatively simple; a doodle of a small zone the Asylum used for meeting the Viceroy, a courtyard, a good distance away. She also detailed some steps and ideas, such as hacking together a trap using the railway that crossed the city (which they never saw) to enclose the Viceroy into a corner of the courtyard, or using firecrackers to make a great commotion that would force the Viceroy to run from the Lunatic horde and lead them back to his hideout.

An interesting idea. Meeting the Viceroy on ground unfettered by predetermined loyalty could prove beneficial. New alliances could be forged.

"Detter," Rnd sneered in the darkness, "you do realize we can't see anything?"

Her book turned pages.

It says 'Oh no'.

"Oh no," Detter repeated. Kris rolled their eyes. "It appears Rnd is attempting to undermine my position! Whatever will I do, Dr. Felin? I'm sure you would know, seeing as you are aware of our technological abilities."

The giant lion Darkner sighed mirthfully and turned in the darkness, patting the dreadfully smug Doctor Rnd on his clavicle and shaking his mane. Then, reaching into the skeleton's pocket, he pulled out some sort of box contraption. It looked like a spatula blade prism.

The lion settled it onto a nearby table and clicked it. Light began to stream powerfully from within, illuminating the room and the board as Detter cracked a smile at the skeleton; now she was the smug one. These two had an interesting chemistry - Kris thought. But both of them were ready still, Kris was okay with it, to be thrown aside if there was anyone, anyone ever, who was a better choice than one egotistical doctor or another hesitant doctor. Now, they were looking at the lion. Swath in ambient light, he seemed… tired, eyelids clinging for each other's warmth as he raised a drowsy paw to rest on the table, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. It didn't work very well.

"As you can see - clearly - the idea is to either entrap the Viceroy during our routine dealings, as to acquire the code to the Astrowall, or to discover the location of the Viceroy's sanctuary."

Kris mentally scoffed.

It never panned out that easily, not ever. Like when they tried to talk to King or attempted to explain the Roaring to Queen without fighting her - it just wouldn't work out that easily.

Verily. Provided ample assessment, any failure of administration could simply be sported into an opening. Stay vigilant.

Yeah, even if it failed horribly, as long as they had the red-lace of warmth tight around their hand, nothing mattered.

Do not become overly arrogant in our abilities. Save points, resets, loads - merely a means to the end of the experiment. Determination is not unique. You are not special. Not in that aspect.

What a jackass way to say that they had to be more careful.

"U-Umm." Noelle quietly interjected. "Can someone… explain what's going on?" She squinted at the doctors and grinned shakily. She stood tall in front of them, not bothered in the least about the mild argument they had stirred up before. Maybe it was because she was just to their left, within feet of Kris, within breathing distance. She glanced back at them frenetically, questioningly, like she wanted to check she didn't frustrate them or something.

She has submitted her will onto you.

"O-Oh, yes!" Ralsei agreed. Kris supposed neither of them had any time to understand what was happening, as they didn't have much time to talk on the way to the Asylum. "Please, help us understand. We would be delighted to help you!"

Rnd scratched his skull. "Alright. I suppose a debrief is in order for our… newly acquired allies. Ahem." He cleared his throat, moving forward in the bright light to the other side of the board, staring at Detter with a challenge before he stood straight, chin up, and began to explain.

"Lightners, welcome to our Dark World. For now, we can skip orientation - this is more important."

"Our world, etched from the magnificent Fountain that grants us life, was once as vibrant and beautiful as the Light World, I imagine. Recently, a plague struck us; diluted magic from the Fountain… engulfed the residents of this world in madness. The Asylum was repurposed into a sanctuary for the last remnants, and together, we work for a cure."

"Doctor Scrubs here sees things… differently. She wishes for extreme measures that will put us all-"

Detter couldn't help herself.

"With your hesitance, we would not even be speaking with the Lightners. Kris and Susie would have perished under your command."

Rnd shot back. "And we all will die under yours."

"Ladies! Ladies! You're both obnoxious!" Susie cut in, shoving Doctor Scrubs away and waving Kris forward. Kris vapidly moved Rnd out of the way. "Arright! Let's break it down nice and chill-like. Me and Kris explored a lame mansion and went to the office. Kris tripped and a damn book opened up with a Dark World inside."

Kris decided it best to actively participate. "We woke up in an alley. We were ambushed. Susie saved me. Then, we were chased by a Lobotomy. A bigger Lunatic." Noelle paled as Ralsei chuckled grimly.

"Made it to this place and fought off hordes of bloodthirsty zombies-"

"We call those 'patients.'" Detter joked.

"-before these idiots put us to sleep with some… gas or something. But we were damn badass before they did that, right, Kris?"

Lie.

Yeah, they got that.

"There is not a single Darkner in the city we can't thrash." The robot that was Kris stood, bored, quiet, breaking the mood with the most monotone voice they could produce without staying silent and writing on a notepad what they thought.

("Kris, why do you sound like you're lying?" Noelle suspiciously questioned with that same wrinkled face she always had.)

("They're not! " Susie argued.)

"Blah, blah, somethings about a new prophecy, somethin' about the creator of this Dark World - not the Knight, I guess." Susie gestured mildly, not very enthused explaining what actually happened. Kris rolled their eyes.

"Some guy wants us dead. We need something he has to get to the Fountain. Understand?" Kris summed up. Noelle squinted at them as Ralsei nodded, satisfied but clearly with some questions as he curled his paws into his robes.

"Yeah, yeah. That's the boring summary. Hasn't been as fun as the other Dark Worlds so far." Susie lamented. Kris sighed. She wasn't wrong, not at all, but it certainly had some good moments. They still felt proud of defeating the Sharpcrawler, even if it was the other's idea that saved them, since they executed it well. It was their accomplishment, too. Their pride. And so what if they needed the other, it wasn't like there was another option for help. It was them and it. Them and it. That's all they had. It and them.

"I am curious as to these other Dark Worlds." Detter leveled with them. "Perhaps you can tell me about them. We should have a break before we begin."

" D-Detter!" Rnd outraged. "Our time is slipping fast thanks to what your patient did! We have to begin as quickly as we can." The skeleton rattled at the book, throwing his skull about like a bobblehead. Detter sighed.

"And rely on four exhausted heroes to help us? Kris and Susie have wandered the city, helped Ralsei and Noelle fight, then returned and defeated a Sharpcrawler. Look at Kris; they're sweating. Noelle is fresh out of treatment and needs recovery, Ralsei was recently infected. They. Need. Rest. Doctor's orders." Detter put her foot down.

"But-"

"Are you the Head of Research and Development or were you living a double life as an actual doctor?" Detter acidically hissed. "Plus, the cafeteria food won't last forever. They should eat while they can."

"Do you… have… vegetarian options?" Noelle timidly questioned. The reindeer was a herbivore.

"Of course! Patient preferences are always respected! Though, I insist that you have high-quality protein as part of your meal plan." The doctor marched over and kneeled, palpating the monster's legs. She winced but chuckled. "A lack of muscle building is likely the reason you were injured so easily."

"Kris, are… you a vegetarian, too? I-I could make vegetarian cakes, if you want…?" Were the cakes… not vegetarian already? They digressed, it wasn't the focus. If Kris had a mind to eat, they would have been excited. For now, they just wanted to progress.

Have a childish fit.

…why?

Zero is waiting down the hallway. It seems they are looking for an opening to apprehend your party. If you engage in a facade of stress and rage, no one would question if you leave abruptly.

So, cause a scene to get alone with Zero. The little thing clearly had something planned, from how it acted with Ralsei, and then now. Kris really wondered what.

Cause a scene.

"Kris?" Ralsei repeated, touching their shoulder gently. They stared at him, red eyes half-lidded and hazy.

Then, they pretended. They were good at pretend.

"This is wrong." They started. "My mom is waiting for me in the Light World. You want us to have lunch while the Roaring could happen any minute? That's stupid. You're idiots. The Fountain can't wait. I'm going." They went for the door. Noelle went to stop them before red strings sliced at her, stopping her dead in her tracks. "Don't follow."

The operator specifically requested a 'childish fit.' That ordeal resounded unpropitiously close to 'mature disagreement.' Uncanny.

They'll do better next time they had to be a child.

Good. Compliance is rewarded.

"Lightner," Zero started. "You have escaped her wrath. That's… nice. That's… wonderful."

"Did you want something from me?" Kris began, leaning against the wall and crossing their legs. The Lunatyke tilted their bulbous head and hummed as the Fountain's afterglow permeated like a night lantern through the halls. It smelled more of paper than anything, and Kris thought it a decent change; for the moment. After the third run of a Dark World, everything gets annoying. Not like it mattered. "Or were you standing here waiting for someone else?"

"…no, I didn't want you."

Unprecedented.

"I wanted him." The Darkner pointed with one massive wing behind Kris. They glanced over their shoulder at the mint-green Prince, who waved slightly nervously at them. It seems he came to talk to them - short-end of the stick, but they hadn't ruffled his feathers yet.

"Ah, hello. I'm Ralsei!" He approached hurriedly, as though to offer a handshake before steaming out awkwardly. "I… and you are?"

"Lightner." Kris looked at Zero, but they were focused on Ralsei. "I felt your magic. Hurts. Cures. You can help."

Kris blinked. His magic 'cured' the Darkners? They thought he killed them.

The hypothesis proposes no difference.

"Err, I… don't know… what you mean?" Ralsei stammered, jittering under his robes as he took a subtle step back.

"Healing. You can help. They want release. You can release them. Release them." Zero swished one giant wing behind their body, pulling forth the colored cube from before. It seemed completed. They extended it toward Ralsei. "Seal the Fountain. Release the anguished. Complete the puzzle." They took a moment to scramble the puzzle box. "Then, please, Lightners. You free them, then please, free me." Ralsei bounced his head, ears flopping as he struggled to find words. Instead, the anti-social Prince just took the cube. "Remember. Fire erases paper. Immolate them."

Immolate: kill or sacrifice as an offering, typically through burning. Patient Zero is advising further homicide. Perhaps a new route is possible. Adding 'Immolation' route to sub-routes of the Asylum Fountain. Proceed.

"Goodbye, Lightners." Zero said, and for some reason, it sounded much more permanent than Kris liked.

The Lunatyke limped off to the elevators.

"K-Kris," Ralsei whispered after a moment of silence. "I… I don't think… I can do that. I… I mean killing. It was a mistake, Kris." He smiled at them, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Let's not do it again, okay?"

Agree. Instill visions of scenarios of necessity. Implant the seed.

Kris looked away and twisted their lips.

"Okay." They settled after a moment. Ralsei verbally sighed and leaned against the wall next to them. "There may come a time. We will exhaust all options by then." He gave them a slight smile, meeting their red eyes with his shrunken pink ones, staring at them with such… innocent understanding, it made them angry that he still trusted them. But they couldn't do anything, not with the other ready for a painful march of death on the new world. They couldn't do anything. So, why did it matter?

"I know," Ralsei assured, "thanks, Kris."

They sat, leaned against the wall, for what felt longer than thirty seconds, head posted to the sky above as they let their mouth fall open. They stole a darting glance at him, noting how peaceful he looked staring at the floor, noting how something acidic bathed over them in the pale Fountain-light, and if they spoke, they knew their voice would crack and the game would get harder; he would ask, be kind, be the broken record that he always was. Crossing their arms over and over again, they curled their gloved fingers and tried to lacerate their palms, settling for the unsatisfying pressure of cold metal against their cold skin. Perhaps, being a puppet would be better. No feelings, no… odd sensation of weight on their chest after asking someone to kill, cheating them out of their autonomy. It felt easier to give up. Not like they had a choice. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Kris," they couldn't stand it, but the other calmed them with the cool, "when I was infected, I… saw something. Kris, it looked like it was affecting you. Kris, I… if you want to talk about something… I'm here, Kris." He gave them a small, meaningful smile, closing his eyes and cocking his head. It was sickeningly sweet, hitting them with an odd wave of guilt, making them squirm, feeling every bead of sweat under their clothes.

"Kris, did you want a hug?"

They balked at him.

"No, I don't. " He looked confused.

Running protocols on hallucinations.

What?

"K-Kris… are you sure you don't want to talk? It's okay, Kris. You don't have to if you don't want to." He came off the wall, slowly sidling up to them with his hands tied behind his back. His maw was crinkled and tight, but his eyes stayed directly in theirs, refusing to back off, and Kris just swallowed. They had to stop seeing him in Ralsei. The other had to be getting suspicious, criticizing them, analyzing them, and they didn't want to disappoint - couldn't afford to. The pain, the claws, teeth, paper wrapping around them, red, red. Red, red, red. They hated the color and loathed the crimson beast. But the most they could do was calm themself and stop the breakdown before it noticed them. They couldn't do anything else. They were weak. They were weak, and they had to appease it.

"You're asking if I want a friend." The other's crinkling, whirring, skittering limbs slowed to a halt. "No, I don't."

You are being unduly hostile. Reaffirm your positive position. Question his state. Show artificial concern. Express regret at 'being a bad friend.'

Kris shuttered a breath at the avoided disaster.

"I… I don't deserve you." They laid it on thick. "You, Susie, Noelle. I haven't even asked…" Kris pushed off the wall, swinging one hand to their poncho to fiddle with it as they faced away. The other saw Ralsei reach for them. "…I haven't even asked if you're okay. Or Noelle. Or Susie. I'm sorry, Ralsei. I-I… want to go home and I don't want to say it straight. Not to Susie. I displaced that anger in there, I… I'm sorry, Ralsei. I'm a bad friend." They ended quietly.

Well, it wasn't all a lie.

You apologized twice. You exploited his kind nature for pity. A shameless but effective tactic within emotional appeal. Exploitation of this fortuity at leisure is not recommended. Wear his mental state down before proper 'contingency' magic asserted. Excellence is praised. Good… work.

They sure didn't feel like a good friend now.

"Kris, it's okay!" He soothed them as they rubbed at their eyes. Then, he was in-front of them, catching their hands with his soft paws. "You don't have to be tough. It's okay. Um, Kris, you're not a bad friend. You're scared and you want to go home. I… I do, too."

They stared at him. He exhaled softly.

"Kris, everything will be okay. The Roaring won't happen instantly, okay? We need some rest." Kris nodded in a daze (not really). "Let's go back, Kris. I'm sure they are worried."

Excellent. Sensors indicate deceit.

"I…" Kris choked down a breath. "Okay. I'm okay. We can go. Let's go." Ralsei held them tight.

"Are you sure, Kris?" Why was he being so damn insufferable? It made their eyes water in rage.

"Yes. Yes, fine. Hollow. Let's go."

He held them for a second more before softly releasing them, watching as they started toward the War Room. His hands hung limply from his side as he gaped after them, the face of a soldier watching his side lose.

"-I highly recommend the hot chocolate. Don't mind the sandy taste; we don't know why, either." Dr. Felin stood as the biggest Darkner in the group of monsters and doctors, walking in-step with Susie.

"Dude, I literally eat chalk. Don't sweat." Felin hummed a laugh before patting Susie on her shoulder. "What? Is it that weird?"

Dr. Felin adjusted his glasses. "…I've eaten yarn before. It was covered in catnip. This bloke," he pointed a claw at Rnd, "decided it would help me loosen up. Oh, heck, it's been a long time since he first came here."

"I've grown a lot." Rnd said. "This place was amazing before the plague. It was sink or swim, though. I was fresh out of the closet, out of my element, but damn, there were problems for me to solve."

Kris squinted. 'Fresh out of the closet,' huh.

Detter snickered. "He is referring to the store the Director Interim found him in. He worked well as a model for us to study and eventually became a pupil of the previous Head of R&D." The book-doctor fell in-step with Kris.

Here they go again.

"Kris, have you ever seen a therapist before?" They crinkled their nose. "I would like to address your mental state."

Noelle peeked her head out from around the other side of Detter. Seemed she was interested in their answer, too. Or if they were going to talk to Detter.

"No." They lied instantly. "…yes."

"K-Kris?" Noelle entreated. "You've… been to therapy? Ah, man, I didn't know."

"Would you care to elaborate?" Detter continued.

"When I was adopted, being a human in a monster family was hard. The state ordered a therapist to help me integrate." It was a… strange few months of their early life, but not a bad time. Confusing, hazy fog, but not a bad time, not at all compared to just a decade later. The other seemed more than uninterested, even disgusted by the thought of their past. Guess they just weren't all that interesting before they were broken.

"Interesting. Humans and monsters have a hard time coexisting. Filing that factoid for later. Kris, tell me, what do you see as the biggest problem in your life?" Well, that one was obvious. Detter turned to them in their silence as they walked, the book opened to a question mark. Her hands floated silently as they inhaled the fresh air. The elevator was ahead. "We still have to do that check-up. Tell me, Kris, what do you see in this?"

Her book flipped to a classic blot test.

The operator records abnormal electrical activity arcing through your occipital cortex. Curious.

"What do you see, Kris?" She questioned.

"Nothing." They wanted out of the situation. The other was curious; they didn't want to answer.

The pair of glasses and an award-losing smile beamed and flashed through the ink at them.

"Are you certain?"

You are lying, Kris.

No shit.

"Yes."

You are lying.

"Kris, do you…" Noelle started. Detter quieted her.

"Answer me, Kris." She demanded.

They had enough. Their fingers trembled as they pushed past them, Detter following quickly as Noelle was stunned and lagged behind. Detter knew they were going to run. She was pushing them. Again. They exhaled pointedly and brushed a neurotic hand through their hair, increasing their pace to try and get the message across - they didn't want to talk. But Detter was tall, and tall meant wider gait. Her coat flapped in the wind as she seamlessly fell into their melodic footfalls. She wanted something from them. They didn't want to give it. They wrung their hands and pawed their sword. If they could just erase her…

But they saw Spamton in her blotted pages. It had to be him. The presentation, the lights from before, and now, on Detter's face. They missed him, missed his drive, his dream. If he was gone, what hope did Kris have? No hope, no dreams, lost, alone, afraid, with a red storm cloud hovering. The clawing of cornstalk snapping skittered silently close to their cornice of the sleek corridor. And it was smiling through the gashes of animal left on the heated panels of the computer.

DREAM ON

Voracious gnats. Entry added to database.

"Kris-"

"Stop. I don't want to hear it." They warned the doctor. Her pages flipped to an exclamation mark. Then, recovering nicely, she cracked open to her grin. Seemed like she got something out of them, since she radiated smugness as she sped ahead, swagger in her step as her hands floated in the air, throwing up odd symbols. She danced a little, shaking her shoulders as she crouched slightly. Noelle came further ahead.

Susie was ahead of them, joking with Dr. Felin as Rnd lurked nearby, almost simmering, oddly quiet, as the lion recounted some better memories. Ralsei hung right behind the doctor, casting worried glances back at Kris, checking on them. Within seconds of her striding to the front, she turned, flabbing her nonexistent mouth about menu options, and Ralsei instantly fell behind to group up with Kris. It was comforting to know he cared but all it did was remind them of the web of lies they had spun. They grimaced and averted their eyes.

"Kris?" Ralsei questioned. "Are you okay?"

They weren't. Too much stuff, too much stress, too many lies and pain and suffering and the crinkling of paper to remind them of it all. And the hazy visage of Spamton to show them a better world, a better time, puppet to puppet. So, no, they couldn't be. Everything hurt. Their head was pounding, their eyes hot and burning. The cool didn't come in but they still reached for it, begging, listening for the next instruction to throw themself into to just forget about their fr- lackeys. They had to put their front up again, before they were forced into a bad position.

Ralsei knew better.

Noelle would be confused.

Susie wouldn't know better.

The other wouldn't care.

They just had to push through until the Fountain.

0-0-0

The food was bland.

The red lights blared rapidly in the open room of the cafeteria. A few patients sat close to Kris and Ralsei - both of who were pecking unenthusiastically at their food - while the Lunatics tried to stifle tremors and shudders of fear while anxiously wrapping gazes around the room, as though watching for something. One of them muttered about being scared and another calmed them. Ralsei - though cast in dark - still looked visibly upset at the situation, fixated on the poor Darkners, wanting to help but still shaky himself.

The mashed potatoes were buttery, they supposed. And the peas were mushy enough. The chicken was a bit salty for their taste. Warm water wasn't the best, they guessed.

Food.

Kris agreed; it was.

All of life survives solely on consumption and reintroduction.

They supposed.

The operator calculates an increased output of noncommittal responses lately. This data appeals to the resplendent hypothesis congealed. You are depressed.

Got all of that from a teenager shrugging and answering?

Accumulated data suggests a multitude of accounts depicting possibly traumatic events. Emotional dismay due to fear, solitude, and portentous circumstance may inadvertently dilute to feelings of anguish, disconsolateness, and sorrow. Diagnostics taken of your mood, heart rate, respiratory rate, and blood pressure add to the physical clause. The list of mental presages include; thoughts of self-harm; aversion to affection; obsessive use of comfort eating; uncontrolled emotional response to stimuli; no latent aspirations; et cetera.

Now, everybody's their therapist. What next; would Spamton jump out of the alleys and say something like, 'SAME TIME NEXT [apocalypse]?' Why did everyone suddenly care about how they were doing?

Incorrect. They always worried about your mental status. You simply exuded confidence and certainty; they saw no opening to approach. The facade of strength is imperative to the experiment.

Blah, blah. Same shit, different day. They just wondered what to do with Ralsei.

Colloquially called; Laws of Attraction.

What-

"Kris?" Goddamn it. "I… I'm not hungry anymore, so… I wanted to see the garden, if that's okay with you?" They didn't see why he was asking them for permission; the other may have done a good job with putting on a facade for them. Case-in-point; they went to grimace but it quickly manipulated their strings and smiled instead. It was sickly, twisting, like a continental shelf of disdain. But it was there. He smiled trustingly at them, lacing his hands together and shifting closer. As they continued to grin at him (the other made it keep growing) a subtle blush poked up from under his fur and he flickered his gaze from their face to their thighs. Was he… checking them out?

He is not requesting your permission. He is requesting your presence.

They blinked. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Ralsei nodded.

Flirt-

"Okay, let's go." Kris decided, promptly ignoring the other's ridiculous comment. Flirt? With Ralsei? No.

"Okay, thank you, Kris."

They stood up from their seat, awkwardly aware of how close they were to Ralsei. He was nearing cuddling them as the two stood, picked up their trays, and deposited the remaining scraps into the trash can. To say Kris was uncomfortable - given the previous comment and strange implications- would be a massive understatement. They were a teenager; they knew what sex was but… God, it was disgusting and frightening that the other would even dare delve into the faintest, slightest idea of it. The one thing they still had sacred was that. And with Ralsei? They shivered and quelled the bile rising in their throat. Even casual flirting seemed too much, too risqué, for Kris to ever entertain to come between them and the Prince. They looked at the thing inside them with a new, somehow worse light.

Together, with Ralsei weirdly at their heels (his hands were crossed behind his back, oddly lower than usual, and he seemed to steal glances at them), they made their way to the courtyard they noticed earlier, wading through the darkness, praising it as the only shroud to halt their thoughts.

Worse candidates exist.

Seriously, stop.

Most creatures experience the sensation of arousal.

Kris tromped further fastly, acutely aware of Ralsei's presence swimming listlessly, euphorically, right next to them, happy as a lamb to be so close.

They hissed back at the other , teasing the line-which-they-could-not-cross as tepidly as they could.

Human contact assists significantly in improving mental status.

There was pale grass beneath their feet.

It brushed along their calves, tickling them warmly as they inhaled a little breath.

Ralsei eyed the courtyard with minute awe.

The shades of blue and light-purple basted the brick walls and windows with shifting intensity of dripping colors. The grass grew tall far into the tiny hamlet of somber essence, and Kris walked along, idly sticking a hand out to brush along the stalks. They softly wrapped around their armored fists, and Kris almost took a handful, pausing to remove their gauntlets and feel the grass.

It smelled like raspberries, a strong, fruity, and subtle stench with hints of bitterness.

There was a dead tree in the middle of the small grassland, cool wind curling like smoke around the stubby trunk and wafting gently into the cold skin of Kris's face, stinging for a moment before the tingle of blood returned.

Whistles of gusts from the Fountain streamed into the room every-so-often, ruffling the grass and their clothes. Somehow, it reminded them of Hometown.

It gave them a sweet taste in their mouth and a little, persistent upturn of their lips.

The grass felt sharp and smooth under their fingers.

"Kris." Ralsei whispered, nearly lost to the wind. They hummed in affirmation, afraid to turn and be lost in his eyes. "I have to tell you something."

Their enjoyment of the grass-garden quickly faded, apprehension swerving and sweeping in like a car-gone-wild.

"Yeah." They replied.

Ralsei glanced at the floor.

He still had a sweet smile on his face. "…my first memory was opening my eyes in front of the cauldron. The first thing I did was… blink and stare at myself for a while. I couldn't comprehend what it meant to be alive, until I couldn't stand anymore and fell down. It hurt and I made a noise. Then, Kris, I woke up! I realized what I was. Soon, I started exploring. The castle was empty, the town was empty," he reached out and brushed the grass, too. "I was alone, Kris. There was no one to talk to, no one to reassure me. I had fears that I didn't even know were fears."

Kris stood and listened to him talk, absorbing it all. Once upon a time, they would have cared about that - his past, his experiences, his hurt.

But they couldn't care anymore. Everyone for themself. Kris couldn't care anymore.

"It took me forever to learn how to sleep, as embarrassing as it is. I had some… odd dreams, Kris. Something soft. Something warm. Someone else but me in the emptiest town in the world. I slept as much as I could, to be honest." Ralsei exhaled with soft, song-like, honey-inhales.

Kris tried to ignore whatever emotion was leaking into their chest and focused on the reeds.

"I slept so much, Kris. I tried when I was awake, too!" His voice wobbled a little as he leaned over further, slowly falling to his knees.

Kris blinked and did the same.

"I couldn't sleep every minute of the day but… I could dream, still. I could imagine what it's like to have friends, people to talk to, to laugh with." He brushed closer to the root of the grass, plying the soft dirt with his sparklingly clean claws. "That's how I learned to meditate!"

He continued. "That's when I started to dream of you two. You and Susie… helped me keep going, Kris. When it was dark."

He sighed, gently removed his hat, and set it aside. Kris still felt the grass reeds.

"Kris?" They were distracted for a moment and Ralsei slowly grabbed at their hand, holding their wrist carefully between his claws, like they were glass.

They turned to him, forgetting to curse at the other for a moment, staring at his beautiful, down-turned eyes.

And there was a moment of silence.

"You helped me, Kris. Is it okay if I help you, too?" He turned up to them, peering over the rim of his glasses at them, stabbing a deep sense of unfounded regret, longing, and… something warmer into them.

And they failed to answer.

"U-Uh…" they gaped at him. He tilted his head, ears flopping as he scrunched up his smile, tenderly stroking their arm as they leaned back slightly.

W… why?

They felt like a stranger in their own skin (wasn't theirs anymore), a bystander to an intimate, heartfelt moment between a person and the idea of a person.

It was like he was staring through them, past their blue skin and red SOUL, past whatever humanity still clung within, watching the puppet show of scarlet strings occur inside.

He saw what the other made him think was Kris. He saw an illusion, a hallucination, not them, and they couldn't take credit for the loving gaze and kind words, nor could they truly appreciate the relaxing sensation of his fur brushing along their knuckles like a running faucet of soft.

It was meant for someone else, after all.

"…" they didn't even know how to know how to respond. Two levels behind. What would they do? Pretend? They were good at it but a pang of hurt squirmed inside. They couldn't pain him like that so easily, so second-nature, even if it was.

He slowly exhaled, releasing one of his holds.

Okay, they could-

He used his empty hand to pull their shoulder in, hooking himself to them and holding them tightly in a snug hug. They blinked and tried to form words, not even able to fight back against the stemming conflictions and wetness gathering at their eyes.

Hug him back.

They couldn't- what? How? They… what?

Hug.

They… tried to… but, it was… awkward…?

Hug.

The strings helped (forced) them to loop a timid arm around his neck, and they balked at the pleased sound he made.

"…thank you, Kris."

They blanked out for a moment until he retreated.

The other kindly beamed the moment - or many moments, yet it was somehow over too soon - into their head.

And Kris ran their tongue over their teeth in thought.

"Kris, can you… help me?" Ralsei asked, voice sounding similar to a blown out speaker through the wind and haze. "I want you to meditate with me. I…" he hid under his hat again, replacing it and burying his eyes beneath the rim. "I think you can have a good dream, too!"

And they continued to gape.

Agree.

They didn't… what? What would they… dreams? What dream? Could they even.

Agree.

What if they… didn't want to dream again? To see a world - perfect and bright - be dragged down past the clouds into the darkness of their mind palace, like a crater of pain and death? What if they… didn't?

Agree.

They couldn't.

Agree.

They… couldn't. They didn't want to see it again.

Agree.

No!

Then punishment will be administered.

W-Wait! They would! Just… give them a second, please. They needed…

Time is of the essence of urgency. The experiment is urgent. Agree or suffer consequence.

They-

"Okay." The other mouthed and sibilated. Kris felt disgusted and almost covered their mouth. "I can do that."

He hummed. "Thanks, Kris." They shook as control returned. "But we should do that later. We need to get back to the Fountain, okay? I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you."

He was right.

Toriel would be going batshit and tearing through the town, frustrated because Noelle's mother would have her hands tied with the Coalition, and Asgore would have to help her. A very bittersweet reunion would happen in that broken-down pickup truck and they wondered how it would go.

And Berdly… they forgot about him.

At least he was safely hidden in the closet… of the… library… which…

They will find him. It is certain. Whether or not he is discovered, the situation does not deviate from the prognosis. He is comatose. They will get no use out of him.

Good. Good. No, that's great. Hopefully, they could even get home in time to avoid suspicions.

Noelle was brought here against her will. She would not believe the scenarios she faced were reality. She was forced here. Further questioning required. Hypothesis proven, the Coalition has all the needed data to draw conclusions. They would know.

They had to talk to Noelle-

"Kris?" Ralsei had stood without their knowledge. "Are you ready to go?"

No.

But they spent only a moment more talking to the other before following.

0-0-0

"There is no Frigate like a book,

To take us Lands away,

Nor any Coursers like a page

Of prancing Poetry -"

The Viceroy stood before them, tall, lanky, large, wax seeping from his face with the posh scent of velvet and silk linens, sunlight streaming into a dusty room filled with Victorian wardrobes, purple curtains, the bush of old-fashioned collars fit with pins and cufflinks that tinked against the ancient pocket watch he had attached to a string, glancing at it in his satin-gloved hands with his chin held high. His putty-skin and flickering candlelight hair flowed in heavy waves as he tutted, slapping the latch of his watch closed and lipping it into his pocket, brushing down his elegant, expensive, vintage tailcoat. A thin sheen of oil glistened over it.

His voice was clear, prickly with every clicking sound and letter, like a base trough to sink through syllables.

Viceroy took a moment to appraise the group gathered before him, pausing for a second before continuing his poem.

"This Traverse may the poorest take

Without oppress of Toll -

How frugal is the Chariot

That bears the Human soul."

He was a candle, clearly. Top-heavy with thin legs. Kris didn't need the other to tell them that - the waxy craters he had for eyes, split like potholes, dripping with orangish goop as his sickly, fat smile spread with glee. Slimy wax dripped from his hair onto his shoulders.

A few sticks protruded from his head, like braids of twisting, coiled birthday candles, and he had one single twirl of immolated wax that covered his left eye and half his nose. His flamy hair swept back, his nose tapered to a rounded point, he swaggered forward, his gait a prancing dance, filled with confidence and giddy certainty.

Kris thumbed their sword as Noelle, Susie, and Ralsei spread into a loose formation. Detter stood just ahead of them, standing tall herself, book serenely flipping as she strutted forward.

Behind the Viceroy, two figures stood silently and boorishly, much less animated than the candlestick Darkner.

One was some sort of apothecary, cloaked in a brown shroud and baggy mask, chest covered with bandoliers of tonics and toxics. He was about Kris's height and size, cloak hem falling just shy of his sandaled-feet, a belt wrapping around his waist filled with rusted needles. A few stray roots and vines curled around the poisoner's limbs, netting into a green-brown lace.

The other was a lanky bird creature, standing on two legs, limbs brambly, black as void, and forked like branches. She squawked curiously, blouse and skirt-like cloth waving, chest feathers puffing and writhing like thready hairs. A deep, rich liquid seeped from her arms, dripping against the ground like teardrops falling from her beady eyes. The bird's face was shaped like a triangle, contrasting her rounded, skinny torso with a pointier beak and pyramids of feathers. Her beak was shiny and porcelain, gleaming as she hunched and cawed, staring down Kris with an intense ferocity in her eyes.

"If I was that Doctor Rnd, I would cleverly use that poem to insult you," the Viceroy teased, one hand on his hip as he curled the other into a loose fist, "say 'there is no Frigid-bitch like a book' or something profound."

Detter hummed. "His wit fails him, unfortunately. He clams up like rigor mortis when I belittle him."

The Viceroy laughed. "Oh, the wonderful droves of authority. How sincere in the lord is the perspective of serfs. Ah, speaking of peons…" the candle flickered humorously. "I see you have brought along some of your own, so I have tagged along the trusted of mine."

"You know our business is unnecessary to the transaction. Show us the anaesthetic and you will get your payment." Detter put her foot down, no-nonsense, not even scratching in nervous energy at the tense stare-down the poisoner and bird gave her.

The Viceroy shot her a derisive, contemptuous glare, clutching his chest bush with his glove.

"You believe me prevaricate predestined?" His outrage resounded off the walls of the open meadow of concrete walkways and dead grassland.

What. The actual. Fuck.

He is questioning if she believes him deceitful. Maintain silence. Remain on standby. Observe this interaction and document.

Ralsei seemed to meet the crow's gaze, but instead of withering, he stood firmer and curled his fists. The bird cooed in confusion. Susie made herself known by patting her axe loudly, bringing the poisoner to stare at her. He merely thumbed out one of his needles and twirled it and juggled it, as carefree and arrogant as could be. Noelle decided to observe distantly, staying away from confrontation.

But Kris found themself at the forefront, transfixed ephemerally with the Viceroy himself. Something inside their chest said he was interesting, and not just because of his eccentric countenance.

Diagnostics indicate an increased concentration of Determination emanating from approximately eighteen feet in front of you. Attempting to triangulate.

Someone else had the power of will, someone close enough that the other could sense it.

This is of critical importance.

That was not very soothing.

Only certain beings should be capable of manipulation of world-space. The identity is imperative to continued efforts.

They agreed, readily. They didn't want to die here anymore than they wanted to not piss off the other .

Attempt natural scouting. Circle from left to right. Three points must be accrued to successfully locate the holder.

It didn't take a genius to realize it was the Viceroy, but they listened anyway.

Point A. Proceed to Point B.

Kris inhaled and exhaled, slowly winding their way over to Ralsei, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

"If anything happens, cover Noelle." He nodded, if not a tad confused. Kris felt pride that he agreed so quickly.

Point B. Proceed to Point C. Inform Susie to contest the poisoner for if conflict is inevitable.

Kris kept a slow pace up to Susie before sharply rasping into her ear- "Can you beat the cloaked one?" She grinned like a shark- hell yeah, she could.

Hypothesis confirmed. The readings are coming from the Viceroy. Proceed with immense caution.

Kris wanted it to thrum their strings and guide them further.

Compliance is sufficient. Charisma and diplomacy will serve dutifully until distraction administered.

So, they should talk their way out of or stall any conflict until the plan was in motion?

Combat is likely, however.

They would be as prepared as they could.

Even with the upgraded gear, you are underpowered. Any extended combat scenario against the Viceroy increases the possibility of usurpation of will. Proceed with caution.

Kris had gotten an upgrade before they left.

Doctor Rnd had provided new gear for everyone; Kris received a new sword, one sharp and straight like a needle, with a little space for some sort of canister to enter near the hilt of the blade.

Fumeblade: ATK +20. A sword made with internal mechanisms designed to exude gases. Inject canisters of gas to unlock new ACTs.

The other helpfully supplied the info.

They also received some new armor. To no one's surprise…

Sturdy Labcoat: DEF +10. A sturdy labcoat made of reinforced fibers. It feels soft and rough at once. Increases resistance to toxins by 10%.

And they weren't the only one. They stopped by a save point to retrieve something from the storage, gave it to Susie. She smiled devilishly and twirled it. So, they lied when they said she patted her axe. More like she patted the Devilsknife.

It still smiles. The song has quieted.

Noelle had gotten a gown that boosted her natural magic regeneration up slightly. She placed it under her normal clothes, commented- "So soft…"

Ralsei was honored to receive something from Doctor Scrubs herself; a neck warmer that incredibly boosted his magical abilities to a margin of mid-thirties- "Kris, do I look like a delinquent?"

He was oddly concerned. Goody-two-shoes.

"Hmm, mayhaps you should invest your time and patience into better allies, Doctor Scrubs; the ones behind you billow youth like summer dress in Winter."

Detter sighed.

"Yes, yes. They are children." The bird whirred in surprise but the poisoner seemed unbothered, continuing to spin his needle. "Shall we get on with this?"

The Viceroy split with a voraciously depraved grin. " Power through it? Perhaps, it's possible you pretty poppies perchance pervade pathetic desperation in the potion dark?"

"Alliteration. Masterful. Can we witness the almighty grandeur of what we came here for?" She twirled her thumbs in the air, hands floating listlessly at her side. "I'm a busy woman, trying to save our world."

Viceroy cocked his wax-sculpture head.

"I needn't see a reason why not. I simply give up to whims. But alas, as interesting as this is…" he turned to command the poisoner. "Boyles, brother to broken beast, bring and bare the bottles of bubbling brew to the bespectacled book. Allow her rose-tinted view to persist."

The poisoner - Boyles - nodded simply and inched forward, pulling free a vial from his pouch and holding it up to the light. It was a swirl of cloudy-green, like a crayon left to wallow in a glass tube.

"There," the Viceroy wheedled impatiently, "may we commence in the sale?"

Detter slowly, slothfully brought a spare hand over to the poisoner, allowing him to grab her wrist as she inspected it closer. Then, nodding once, she waved to Kris, beckoning them forward to 'present their end of the bargain.'

The firecrackers will attract all Lunatics within the area. Be prepared to shelter in-place. Use the nearby staircase to house your teammates and the nearby balcony to observe.

Kris inhaled sharply, apprehensive about what was about to happen. Carnage, chaos? Whatever it was, they were ready for a fight.

Ralsei was brimming with magic, Noelle was already calculating her ice spells, and Susie (and Jevil) had enough power gathered at her fingertips to explode at any moment. And Detter seemed as calm as ever, book spinning pages as it bobbed calmly; up-and-down, up-and-down.

They stepped forward meekly, partly to put on a show and partly due to actual nerves. The other steadied their hand as they pulled the totebag off their shoulder; it was light for being a food transaction, even with the firecrackers beneath. The Viceroy took it upon himself to take the bag, waiting patiently for the human to approach and calmly stretching out his palm. They gently looped it over his hands and turned to leave.

They heard him mutter under his breath.

"Thank you, Kris." They repressed a shiver. Another person who instinctively knew their name.

Viceroy seemed to smile larger at seeing their reaction, or lack thereof, and seemed to hum melodically as he stared them - no, something else - down.

Warning: treat the Viceroy as the main threat. It may be obvious but reminders are warranted.

Kris thought it was pretty obvious but appreciated the warning. It warmed their heart to know the other cared about them.

Not the time for jokes.

"Now, let's see, let's see!" The Viceroy began digging into the bag. "Oh, Woe, look at this! Impeccable service. A box of chocolates. Utter madness makes me utterly matchstick. Ooh, what are-"

A hand floated up from inside, fingers coiled around a firecracker bundle. The candle Darkner seemed to sigh before he unwilling lit the bundle.

Snap-crac- ker-pop.

And then the world exploded with noise, the Viceroy fumbling and dropping the bag filled with noise makers onto the concrete floor of the city.

Kris acted first, yanking onto Detter's coat and guiding her away.

There was a staircase close by, on their side, and Kris loudly ordered their posse to run for it. Ralsei ensured Noelle started to run before making his own way over, meeting Kris's red eyes before nodding; he remembered and would make sure she was covered.

The Viceroy simply cackled derisively, wholly unbothered by the situation and expressing his own concerning method of pleasure by grinding what was left of Detter's hand into dust.

Almost in the same instance, there entered the crow, launching quickly over the candle and moving to slam her gnarled claws onto Kris.

Susie blindsided her with a Rude Buster.

"Boyles!" The Viceroy hissed. "Tonic." He extended a hand to his companion, flames buzzing with intensity and wax bubbling with frenzy.

The poisoner didn't cease his juggling as he reached into his pouch, clinging free a different vial filled with yellow, foaming fizz and handing it over to the Viceroy.

At the same time, Detter's floating hand shoved the vial of sleeping gas into Kris's pocket, the doctor instructing them to load it into the sword.

The howls of Lunatics far away began to ring as clear as day as Kris jammed the cylinder into their sword, tightened it, listened to it sink into the blade. The Viceroy billowed with white-hot flames, throwing his hand up to the sky with the tonic, and Kris jumped forward; slash, the gas blasted from the gaps, smash, the last twirl of the candle.

Yellow bursted from nowhere, filling Kris's lungs with scathing acid gas, the stench of bitter cherries and the taste of boiling water. Hacking violently, the other hissed in pain as they did and forced them through the thin layer of gas toward the walls of the courtyard.

Two floating hands yanked them from the wreckage of the meeting and pulled them away, leading them up the staircase into an empty, covered crosswalk. One of her hands tagged along with the departing group, hovering them and watching, stalking them like little spiders crawling over the walls.

Kris slumped against the wall, heaving up their lungs as the doctor stood vigil on the balcony, book low and sweeping across the courtyard. Instantly, Ralsei and Noelle busied themselves, worrying over Kris before they held up a hand.

It was just a cough.

That scenario could have transpired better.

They agreed through a puff of yellow breath. Was it really-?

Diagnostics indicate only mild damages. Any further exposure would have resulted in intense trauma to your lungs. Suffocation is no threat.

Oh, so the gas wasn't… strong enough - no, that didn't seem right. It seemed rightly deadly, even the small whiff of it had them winded on the floor, clutching their chest.

Oxygen is necessary for cellular respiration. Your metabolism has already been slowed due to efficiency. With higher attunement, the need for sustenance and further building blocks of tissue would be rendered obsolete. Determination can be repurposed and harnessed for more than world-manipulation.

They already didn't have control over their body and the other was talking about physically replacing the last human thing about them; their body. It was as effervescent as the toxins lining their insides.

Peak efficiency is not required. True mergance between operator and vessel is detrimental and removes advantages of subtlety, resources, and split-effort. Benefits include increased durability, severe benefits to magic production, weaving, increased dexterity and agility, and improved Determination manipulation. It is disadvantageous unless in disaster scenarios.

"W-Well… that went… okay." Noelle drawled meekly, standing a little slumped over Kris and facing the doctor.

"Hey, so, you're tailing them, right? Gonna find out where the hell those freaks hang out?"

"Yes, Susie," Detter agreed. "That is the plan."

0-0-0

Meanwhile, the candle and his lackeys made it back as safely as they could.

The crow spoke first,

"Lord Viceroy, the damn fools!

Lord Viceroy, do you see that too?

Lord Viceroy, the hand tool!

Lord Viceroy, it came homeways!"

She squawked and shook with energy, jumping as Boyles stalked up silently behind her, holding up one of the doctor's floating hands. It squirmed and, concomitantly, forced Boyles to impale a needle deep into the body of it, death-convulsions the only warning before it fell into dusty papers.

"Got it." Boyles proudly stated.

"Good work, you two. We have been conned and tricked, yet…" Viceroy's flames fanned. "they lost the element of Surprise. Prepare for war; Ana, alert the others; Boyles, prepare the Sharpcrawler brigades."

They listened, like always, to the powerful patriarch of poetry. He waved them away and made his way to the high balcony of his base; it was a café, far, far from the city. The ace ability of such distance was to curtail this very scenario; the Asylum finding out where he was. But even then, his plan wasn't close to over - it was barely beginning, but now, Kris had arrived.

He had much planned for the Lightner, as per his instructions by the mysterious figure that approached him. A 'Champion .'

Anaphora 'kree'd and left to her duties, yet Boyles stayed to watch through the balcony window down to the fields where his creations stood vigil. The spider-like Darkners danced to his whims and sang in growls.

"Milord Viceroy, the Champion spoke of the blue-skinned Lightner. Surely you saw how odd they carried themself. Certainly, that one is Kris."

Viceroy nodded his waxy head. "The Champion made it very clear; I knew as soon as I laid eyes upon their ghastly figure. Like a ghost in the pale moonlight, they gave me shivers of anticipation." He chuckled, a little insanely, he would reckon, but what else was he? "So, the games begin."

"Milord?"

"You wonder my plan?" The Viceroy guessed as easily as the flickers of his flame. The poisoner nodded. "I needn't one. I felt it; the repetition of times, the lag of the watch-hands, ticking, ticking. They are the one. I felt it; the proclamation of fun, the soaring heights of the dying plague, and I would laugh, laugh. And I am not the only."

He continued, "The purple one held one like myself. Close, but not supple in resentment. A fun-lover - against my tragedy. He will enjoy my ideas as much as I."

Boyles twirled his needle. "I'll prepare my tonics. They will be coming soon. I will hold them here, in my apothecary, so you may find the most inconvenient place for them to meet you."

"The Astrowall." He supplanted. "We will Transit to the Fountain and insert ourselves in the most annoying way possible. Kris withholds the spark of madness with such a delicious aroma - I just want to eat it all up."

"You are with the Champion ? I assumed-"

"Boyles." Viceroy halted him. The only light was the dim radiance of his candles. "I will tell you my motives, if you are loyal."

The poisoner froze.

He knew what happened to loyal people around Viceroy; he was a loyal person himself and had faced the fanning flames. The Viceroy cared only for his own whims, most times, and that included punishing those straight-arrows within his community. Those loyal are those unfun, in his opinion, and should be fizzled.

But Boyles nodded.

Viceroy sighed. "Boyles. Boyles, Boyles, Boyles. I'm afraid you just made a bad deal." He beckoned the poisoner forward. Boyles nervously approached and kneeled. "My motives aren't complex or deep, really… you see, it's rather poetic. The candle. I am the candle and I want to watch the world burn. " He gestured through the window. "And what a better place to burn than the cesspool of sickness and malignant tumors spreading! Boyles, it's beautiful and better than I could even begin to believe!" The poisoner nodded. It was. "There's no reason for the deaths I have planned besides that it… tickles my fancy, I suppose. And the Champion wants me to do whatever I can to break Kris into tiny blue fragments. It's chattable how much I would love to, and even the benefits the Champion offered were unnecessary."

"But milord," Boyles started, " why Kris?"

Viceroy's smile died out. "They refuse death, as do I, but they rather see a peaceful end than a funny one. Their premonition and preferential predilection to suicide confounds me: All that power and they'd rather cease to exist! It's adding injury to insult."

"Insult to injury."

"Whatever, Boyles. You're smart. So very smart." He cooed as he stroked along the poisoner's head. Boyles was like a son to him; an odd, antisocial, slightly obsessed son. Now that the thought soured his mind, the Viceroy felt less… bad about what was about to happen. Ha, whatever! Who cared? He giggled. "Oh, Boyles, Boyles, Boyles. It was so nice underwhelming you but now you have to die."

The poisoner jerked. "Wait-"

His head exploded into little bits as the Viceroy sent his power coursing through the poisoner, ripping apart the very tissue of reality and inserting his favorite bouncy ball into the Darkner's head. A tornado of papers unfurled over the room as Boyles simply fell over - it was really quite humorous! Anticlimactic, but funny! The Viceroy giggled victoriously; he picked up his red ball and gave it a celebratory bounce, doing a little side-to-side swaying dance as he went toward the window. His feet crunched along the paper that was Boyles seconds ago before the more grounded part of him remembered how funny it would be to use Boyles to make more laughing gas. Sighing and rolling his eyes, he turned slightly, wrenching a hand toward the dead poisoner and letting the red-lace slathered in wax wind and pull the leaflets of paper back together, spinning a new bow on the poisoner's head as his body was slowly knitted back together.

The Viceroy thought it humiliating; and thus, hilarious.

The poisoner paused, tension palpable in the presence of the pretty Viceroy and his perfect picture of joy. Then, confused and dazed, he bowed and left the candle to his own devices.

Boyles was always entertaining. Always some way to challenge his undying loyalty and scorn him, to push him, to try to break him. The Viceroy could see, though, that Boyles would bend, but never break. He was already too far gone to be truly upset at Viceroy's antics; loss is one hell of a mood-killer, Viceroy figured.

Whatever - the Viceroy stared out along the fields of grass and hedges, along the valley of sheer, shallow cliffs and ridges, and sipped along a glass of liquor he had left sitting on the balcony railing. Once, he would have been paranoid; maybe there was someone hiding in the grass, maybe there was something aiming at him over the ridge, maybe someone poisoned his drink. Now, the thought was so funny because no one could even hope to kill him.

Haha, he finished the glass and pushed it off the porch. It shattered below as he bellowed and sang, twirling and leaning over the balcony; how grand it was, to drip, drip, drip wax over the side and watch it splatter! Soon, he decided he too would splatter, and so he tumbled over and slapped against the entrance, wetly exploding across the floor into gore-like piles of candle that pressed out from his sleeves like toothpaste.

And then, the cool washed in and he stood up, clumps dragging back to him and reforming. How wonderful this life was - never a worry or care!

A Sharpcrawler approached him with robotic concern and curiosity. He stared up at the spider before glaring- " You got a problem!?"

It whimpered and ran away.

He chuckled arrogantly before quieting down.

Kris. He could see himself in them. Immortal, a force of nature, someone grasped with ideals of the best future for themself. But they weren't being selfish, not like a person was supposed to be when everyone else abandons them; they wanted a quick ending, he could tell simply by the way they carried themself. Struggling to put two steps together, wandering through a fog, they were either tired or dazed, and he knew how hard it was to be taken-aback when you could shoulder the brunt of a building and walk it off. Splendid, then, how much he could piss them off.

Annoyance is a reward itself.

He blinked.

Oh, now that was a plan.