Run.
The command transferred clearly, even across their fringed face, and rang out robotically from their mouth as their legs began to move toward the door. Crossing the tiled floor, just cleft between two mesh nets of plants, Kris began their hurried rush to escape the immediate threat of brutal death. They yanked at Noelle's stupefied figure, grunting as they struggled to pull against her stunned, dead weight.
The doctor didn't ask, merely swooped in like a saving angel and snatched her up by her feet, eliciting a startled shriek from her.
"Move, quickly!" Detter shouted, warbling voice cutting into their head.
Susie kicked the door open as the poisoner reached for his pockets, ready to ignite the cloud of gas that had permeated through the air. He chuckled and whimpered equally as he struck it across his forearm, the fizzling flame taking a single second to catch.
Kris yanked the door closed, kept running.
There was a calm in the storm as they pounded down the hallway, all of them, running maniacally and fearfully from the explosion. Kris felt their heart beat powerfully, supplying them with all the oxygen they needed to dash away, over the fine planks and mats, scuffing them as they went; their retreating scramble had them tripping over their own feet. The other took control instead, again, gracefully falling into a sprint that flew over the terrain. They heard the whirring of Rouxls teleporting away from the scene, unfortunately to safety without any of them.
BOOM!
Even with the other's attention and some large distance from the room, the ground trembled and roared, shocking Kris to the core, the building shaking and sinking, collapsing below their feet. Skin was scratched and broken as Kris lost their footing and face-planted into the floor, instantly recovering and rising thanks to the strings binding them, the pain muted and dull.
The doctor had stumbled, but stayed up and readjusted Noelle on her shoulder; the reindeer found them, and they watched her eyes dilate and widen in growing terror.
Kris heard creaking from above them.
Dodge.
Kris crawled forward and burst upward, just narrowly missing the dropping support beam and crumbling wall. The heat rose as the inferno began to chew straight through the walls of the poisoner's domain and spill into the halls, a dark orange glow baking the wallpaper with light, just out of sight around the corner.
Faster.
Kris took off, dashing between faltering beams and hurdling over falling vases and picture frames, trying their best to keep pace with the others as the very building began to collapse.
Left.
Kris felt their mouth yell out to the group, guiding them through the hallways, forcing the mass of scrambled bodies to jolt and flinch in the other direction.
There was a large window just at the end of the longest hallway of the building. Between Kris and the window; couches on fire, braziers of some kind with candles, rugs layered in sheets that their feet could easily trip on.
No matter - they ran as fast as their damn legs could carry them, the weakness of their sedentary muscles betrayed by the ceaseless pumping of blood and lactic acid, and Kris was sure that the pain in their chest was a heart attack. The other powered forward, sharpening their gaze and tightening their brow, forcing them forward, leaning forward, and Kris was scared of the terrain under them.
They felt everything around them as their ears resounded with orotund strikes of the hammer, or was it the breaking of wood? Kris felt their determination surge as the distance between them and safety was rapidly shortening, and felt elated as Susie slowed, spinning and sending the Devilsknife forward and breaking the sheet glass. Some of it spilled outward but a few shards fell onto the dark wood floor. Ralsei and her jumped through the open window, Kris watching in relief as they disappeared beneath the floor.
"Kris!" Noelle called again.
Persevere.
Something crashed down from above, painfully crushing Kris against the burning floor of the café, pinning the thrashing movements of the other under hundreds of pounds of wood and steel. The other sent every last bit of strength their body had into pushing upward, moving the beam as much as they could before their strength failed and it squashed them even harder. Bones groaned under their skin and the other let out its own pained growl.
"W-Wait!" Noelle wiggled off the doctor's shoulder, falling to her knees as the book paused and glanced between the window and the Lightners. "Kris, lift! Come on," she launched over to them and tried to help. They could see the faint reflection of a wall of fire in her pearly eyes.
The doctor snarled and followed her, growing many times bigger as she sent her hands underneath the beam and helped lift.
Snowgrave.
What!?
Noelle's eyes glazed over. What was the other doing? Using that spell, for what?
Buying time.
Her face softened as her snout tensed, her whole body relaxing into an almost sleeping rigidity.
How would being frozen themself help save them from the fire? Certainly, though, the roaring flames that were eating the wood at a lightning speed were convincing enough to suspend their recalcitrant complaints.
It will provide shelter. Help to weather the firestorm.
But would they survive? Berdly was still probably stuck in the crystal, if he was existing at all inside the closed Fountain. Would Kris be able to survive?
Testing hypothesis. Risks are due. Prepare yourself for possibly permanent stasis.
Noelle raised her hands and began to be expelled from the ground with the gathering magic underneath her hooves. An icy chill crept below the fire and all noise stopped.
The doctor looked immensely concerned.
Kris inhaled sharply, snapping their eyes shut and praying to the Angel that it wasn't the end.
Magic exploded from below, a font of freezing air preceding a fuming white smokestack of snowflakes and heavy drifts that layered onto their blue skin and crystallized.
So close, they witnessed both the book and the reindeer be slathered and overwhelmed by the whirls of white and blue, and soon, their bright world faded to black, only the muted sight of orange billowing over the snow globe to show for all the past turmoil.
0-0-0
Muffled voices rang out.
Kris slowly drifted to dazed consciousness, the blurred image of something azure and black spreading out in front of them, like the sky if the day and night were magically fused into a sophisticated, stunning mural of cobalt and dark, dark purple. Blinking, everything slowly focused until they realized, dimly, that it was their own body they saw lumped in a barren heap.
It was as though they were just a floating SOUL, gazing down ambivalently at their hands and arms. They realized it was their body but the severity of it didn't connect yet. The numbness circulating wasn't allowing them anything in terms of primal fears. It felt like sludge, weighing them down, and they felt weaker, lapsing into consciousness for a second, but why were they weaker? Why were they fatigued and numb?
They blinked again, curious at how their eyes still worked when the rest of the body was trapped under the ice. They tried to instinctively flex their hand and watched as the intent never synapsed over. Instead, they wondered where their breathing went and tried, in vain, to prop open their mouth. Nothing happened.
The voices were becoming clearer, as was an odd noise, like chipping or scratching. Chunk, chunk, scrape. They distantly wondered what it meant. It was hushed. Grinding. Plaintive. Chinks of ice were gutted from the body of whatever cage Kris was enclosed in.
Seeing nothing much of interest, they closed their eyes softly and resigned to return to sleep.
…()!)...
The voice was muffled and prickly in their frozen ears, they flinched and tilted their head. Tried to. The voice came again and Kris wrung their eyes open, peering around tiredly, hoping to see whatever it was that continued to disturb their soothing blanket of nothingness.
…K…there…?
They groaned in frustration, rising up to get a better view. It was like their world had been enveloped in glistening powder and pillars of translucent salt. They rose tall, foreboding against the blackened backdrop of the void, and bore judgment upon the ghost of Kris. They bobbed listlessly.
To their side, they could almost make out something from the ice, it was a patch of opaque white with an oblong shape and knitted matrix of white-blue blotches. Two dozen splotches of off-white stained the area just outside of their vision, and Kris found themselves transfixed on them. What were they, so foreign in the purity?
And then there was something beautifully black, just further back, hidden within a cloak of eggshells and smooth cream. Something stirred in their chest. Something sad and guilty. Perhaps their previous life wasn't the greatest.
…Kris…
The voice called again. The chipping noises gained strength, beginning to drum through their frozen sanctuary. Kris suddenly heard noises from inside, something low and humming, too loud to fully hear or witness, and they waited in wonder for these strange sensations to forge some tangible meaning in their vapid life.
Kris.
The voice called their name out loud, something crinkling like cloth and satin, but much less soft or white. Something angry clawed away furiously in their chest. They wondered why they were suddenly enraged.
Connection established. Vessel structure in peril. Advancing biological features to resuscitate puppet.
They remembered, now, the being that had danced them on strings for so long. Between the aggravating voice inside and the sharp chipping outside, Kris felt trapped and drained dealing with them both. They wanted to shut one, or both, out, and then their eyes, the chipping never stopped. Something told them that their wishes were impossible, they dismissed it.
And then, flushing pain sparked upward from their chest and burrowed into the rest of their chest. Sharp pricks and tingling itched along their skin like an electric field. They wailed instantly as pain steepled down their bones and as far as it could reach, their body waking up from a daze as the world finally began to sink in.
It was freezing and their chest was tight with agony, attempting to lift their dead arms to clutch at the area just under their breastplate. They felt like a blob of flesh, blood, and weak guts as their arm failed to travel some few feet. Slowly, the pain abated as their body checked out what nerves were still functioning, but they howled every single second of it. The entire radiation of liquid hurt blasted with the power of an orchestra's crescendo; grand and long.
As it subsided, they felt twitchy, tired. The honeymoon phase was no better, with their muscles stiffened and pinching severely as they attempted to stand. Rather, crawled out from under the snow poff covered log that had crushed them; their back squeezed and squeezed as the pathetic muscles refused to work, and a hollow, bony cutting stayed with them. But still, they used their rapier as some sort of makeshift cane, steadying themselves and grunting with a caveman expression, the only human emotion still remaining in the foggy pain.
They shook from the torturous misery, but soldiered through and recounted what happened.
Snowgrave encased your general vicinity in ice and saved your life from the shock wave and explosion. The spell held perfectly. Unfortunately, your allies were caught within the radius and are currently locked within the ice.
Kris didn't know what to feel, tapping on the ice sculpture of Noelle casually, as though it were some inside joke between the two. They moaned and shuddered in the pain of the motion, frigid breath billowing outward as they rested their weight into the surprisingly sturdy blade.
She was hidden within the sculpture, about two feet deep of fully solid, structurally sound ice. Kris felt a tinge hopeless at the thought of getting her out.
Drilling through ice is simple, however the plan is now to use well-intentioned fire magic to melt the ice. Ralsei should be able to assist.
She looked so damn peaceful inside the statue. Something swirled in their stomach. Oh, Angel, what was happening now? Kris managed to close their mouth and stop the dregs of vomit from shooting out and onto the snow.
They wiped their mouth, heartbeat flaring rapidly in their chest. The world tilted.
Vomit.
Kris took no more instructions, dropping their sword and falling onto their knees, heaving up as much as they could. Pain trailed down to their abdomen as they belched up their insides, eyes watering and gagging, the dry upheaves leaving them shaking even more, both exhausted and trembling uncontrollably.
They felt slightly better afterward, slightly worse. The pressure was relieved but now they felt hollow.
Eat something small. Your health is paramount importance to the experiment.
They reached for one of their three remaining bagels, idly chewing on it as they glanced around again. Noelle was not the only one encased in ice, Detter was trapped too, arms raised in surprise, facing away from everyone. Seems she was caught woefully unaware of the spell. Kris felt much the same.
They didn't want to think about how Noelle would feel after thawing out; they made her use the spell, again, but this time the risk was suicide and murder of her childhood friend who had controlled them into using said spell, so technically ordered her suicide and their own. If they weren't so high-strung and anxious at the moment, they might have seen some humor in that; Kris and Noelle, always together, even in death. They didn't want a repeat of what happened last time (many 'last times') where she avoided them and was all but a ghost for the rest of the run.
Inadvertently, their curiosity wandered until they spotted a plot hole. Noelle wasn't wearing the Thorn Ring, was she? They didn't recall seeing her wearing it, and perhaps it broke off, so how did she have enough TP- sorry, MP to use that spell? It was strange that she suddenly found the strength to use it when she had to be both exhausted from fighting and incapable of gathering it all herself without the ring. Kris asked the question toward the inside as they convulsed and shivered, humming some pain and queasiness.
An experimental procedure was utilized. Using the unfiltered light-attuned magic, the operator instead routed to Noelle. Resources are meant to be wielded. Dauntless intrepidity is certain to abrogate any vacillating and conjectural variables. Her mood is of little importance.
They heard the chipping restart again, could see blobs of colors start to leak into the background of their snowy twilight. The banal light broke through the walls, black and boring.
Impugnable and disreputable hesitations must be factored over and eliminated. She is material to victory. Should the variables present liability, she still adjoins more power and versatile magic. Adroitness - descried through the substantiated and continued vestiges of your heartbeat and kidney function - implies such versatility is inestimable for efficiency. Her competence is useful.
Kris somehow felt better at that. The other wanted her, badly, even if she was a hassle, and that meant that Kris wouldn't be alone again. Surprisingly, Noelle was the one person who wasn't overly concerned with them, despite being their best friend out of everyone. She knew something was wrong, hard not to, but she got the message that they didn't want to talk about it, unlike some people.
Their worry is exploitatory. Your self-hatred stems from it.
Odd to take a shot at them when they were barely able to stand and had thrown up their dinner. They pointedly directed the other that they didn't care at the moment. Kris instead finished the bagel and quietly searched for the Fumeblade, dispirited.
The sword was, oddly enough, slightly frosted along the blade. The ice clogged the vents, and the emptied canister was clouded with condensation. Kris removed the empty can and cast it aside with a bitter taste in their mouth, shivering as their sopping wet legs grew colder in the snow.
Kris felt along the straight hilt and pommel, running their gauntlets over the jagged, frost-laden icicles hanging from the blade. It looked bluer, and the handle was a vibrant shade of light-blue mixed with snowflakes frozen to the surfaces.
Kris stood slowly and gave it a test swing. It was heavier and more powerful.
Hypothermic Rapier: +25 ATK. Fumeblade transformed by immense cold into a stronger weapon. Facilitates the controlled release of toxins and gases. Allows triple use of canisters in exchange for weaker effects.
And blinking, Kris noticed that it wasn't the only thing changed. Their coat had been soaked through, and damp as it was, had also gained some changes. Kris felt a smug smile tug at their face with the addition of frozen pauldrons to their coat as well as some thickened areas for better protection around their flanks.
Frozen Fortress: +15 DEF. A Sturdy Labcoat covered in sheet-ice and hardened in some places. Is slightly uncomfortable and heavier. Increases resistance to fire damage by 5%.
They liked their new changes, especially the fire resistance. Since Boyles was presumably dead, they didn't foresee much in the way of toxins, nor did they feel the effect much during the fights. They clanged their sword against their sides. They barely felt it. The Fortress was solid.
The added benefit of the 'triple-use' canisters would be nice, if they ever managed to get some more to use. For now, the port for it sat empty and desolate. Kris hoped there was something more useful than sleeping gas. Maybe something that exploded and didn't kill them. That would be nice.
The chirping noises of the ice being drilled and shattered grew louder, and soon, Kris could see the purple of Susie's outfit and the flash of a Rude Buster claw away swaths of it all. Then, as soon as she rested, fireballs pitter-pattered against the snow globe, melting away some more ice and preparing it for Susie's next attack. They could see how tired the two were, Ralsei's figure shifting with heavy, strenuous breaths and Susie falling into a squat after using her magic, Devilsknife resting against the floor as she massaged her leg. She stood up again, taking a long time to pull together the magic needed to properly cast Rude Buster, even with the effect of Devilsknife. Kris fiddled with their leg armor.
They should help, no? They raised the Rapier and went to chisel away at the sleet from their side. Glimpsing them, the figures outside twitched in alarm, and they redoubled their attempts to shatter the ice. Kris pledged to use the save point to heal everyone for their good work.
Kris felt hotter as they labored, repeatedly jamming the point of their sword into the brittle crevices of the ice until the cracks broke off and crunched underfoot.
Soon enough, with many rounds of magic and sweat pouring from Kris's already worn body, there was soon only a few inches of ice between them and the Dark World.
Kris lifted their sword, plucking the blade, rearing up, and giving it a mighty swing at the ice wall, punching right through and spewing the glaze. They used the pommel to clear out the rest, making a fair-sized chasm for Susie and Ralsei to duck in and nearly trip, but it was there. Kris felt the dregs of weariness and let themself plunge to their knees.
"K-Kris, oh, I'm happy to see you!" Ralsei was instantly over them, draping them up in a warm, sweaty hug. They were both heavy and tired, but Kris felt just slightly better with him next to them. "You're okay!?" He asked. "Oh, thankfully! When you didn't follow us, we got worried, and… what happened, Kris?" He felt them flinch under him as he rubbed his hand along their aching, tense back. "Did you get hu…rt?"
He pulled away slightly, and they felt his head move to scan the sculptures behind them.
He clutched a paw to his mouth.
"What the hell…" Susie's stunned and weary voice blurted as she dropped the scythe into the snow and stood rigidly, admiring the reflection of herself in Noelle's prison cage. She reached out and touched. "Christ…"
Command them and inform them.
"Noelle used a spell to stop the fire. Froze over the entire hallway, and stopped me from dying. I just woke up and they were both stuck in the ice. Maybe the spell was too close and they were collateral. It's stupid but possible." Kris plainly told them everything. "We should thaw them out. Ralsei, are you up for the task?"
He blinked twice, stunned, but nodded and summoned a roaring flame in his palm. It danced and withered, then stood still and sparked. They had a feeling he was more tired than he claimed, and decided instead to let him off, "You're not. Let's step outside for a second to cool off. Maybe we will feel better. I hope so, anyway."
He glanced at them with a distraught, dazed look, then back at the sculptures before he turned and smiled shakily at them.
"Okay, Kris. Thank you, I… I'm not ready, am I? Umm," he found himself staring at the ice again, "but will they be okay? I don't want to leave them in there…"
Lie and comfort. He will appreciate it.
"They should be okay, yeah," Kris started easily, the other assisting to keep their voice indifferent and to maintain their lowly, gutted scowl. "I wonder the same but we're not helping them by killing ourselves trying to save them. Overexerting yourself won't help."
Kris led him through the crater in the ice into the world outside. They exhaled through their teeth. Surrounded by a small, pointy tunnel of blue ice, they could see a slanted hill sloping downward covered in snow, and glancing to the sides, could see that it was partly holding the ruins of the café up. They could see footprints; two sets, deeper toward the bottom of the slope, as though they fought upward to get to the globe. Kris felt guilty that their friends worked so hard, just for them, though Noelle and Detter were there, too. Kris was just the tag along.
Parts of boards were jutting out from inside the ice, glazed over and slippery, and Kris stabbed their sword into one and plopped down into the snow, staring out over the gardens slowly catching fire in the distance with a distinct sadness settling over them. Yet also, triumph. Faintly.
Ralsei fell down next to them and laid back in the snow, arms stretched across the plain as his exasperated breathing began to slow.
Kris waited for a moment, then reached out and felt for the power the other had gathered for them in wait, the lace reverent and adoring them with softness and healing. Ralsei's breathing normalized, and he curled his paws back toward his torso.
"I feel better now, Kris. You were right." He smiled lovingly up at them. Their gaze stayed on him a moment too long for their comfort.
"Where's Rouxls?" They deflected. Ralsei chirped. Sat up.
"He went to go 'gather his things'. I suppose he lived here, too, didn't he? I wonder why he hasn't turned to stone yet." They wondered much the same.
"The better question is how did he get here in the first place? I didn't take him with me this time." They leaned a hand onto the Rapier. "Speaking of which, how did you get here? I thought Castle Town would be too far away to walk here."
They gazed out over the verdant green slowly falling away to charred black. The flowers and grass caught fire and slowly withered away, curling and falling to the ground, the other made a game of counting it. The smell was pleasant, smoky and slightly tangy. Reminded them of when Asgore would barbecue. Or, well, use barbecue sauce. The shifting of the grass mixed with the dripping of melted ice in a pleasant concert. They unbuckled their gauntlets and laid them to their side; the insides were wet anyway.
"That's not how it works, silly." Ralsei teased lightly. Odd. "Dark Worlds are like… a spiderweb. They're all connected. If you could access one of the Fountains, you can use it to go to the others. Since the Grand Fountain is the purest, I'm able to go anywhere in the Dark World that's near a Fountain. The others were close enough that I could just walk but this one… it's far away, Kris. I was surprised to see Noelle was here again!"
The planks creaked as Kris shuffled. Above them, the lip of the ceiling was hanging lower, keeping the two in a small alcove, casting a dim shadow over them. Kris was thankful the spell was holding for so long, they had to unfreeze Noelle and Detter.
"So, you can, what, teleport to the other Fountains? That's useful. I don't know why you couldn't sense this one, though. It's been here a long time."
"This Fountain is purer than the other two," Ralsei supplanted naturally, "the Grand Fountain obscured it. I wasn't looking for it, either." Kris furrowed their brow. "The creator of this Fountain knew something, this Fountain is very close to the Grand Fountain. I'm glad it was sealed, Kris. The Roaring would have come much quicker with it!"
The Fountain is slightly 'purer' than the others. Interesting. Adding variable to archive entry on 'New Knight'.
The Knight - if it even was a different Knight - had somehow made the Fountain differently this time. Perhaps Queen was onto something about a 'NEO' Knight. That was, if 'the Champion' wasn't the creator of the Asylum Fountain.
Likely scenario. The Champion was only referenced in this world and has yet to be distinguished from the others.
"Yeah," Kris muttered lowly, "we should get back to that." They stood and sheathed their sword, tensing as the cold metal hit their bare hands. They pawed their gauntlets back on and ignored the moisture.
"I'm ready, now, Kris. I feel much better!" Ralsei tweeted. He stood up and patted their arm strangely. Kris swallowed dryly. His touch was oddly warm and Kris didn't know what to think of it.
They neglected whatever was cradling in their chest and crouched back through the tunnel, boots stomping and sliding in the snow. Susie was still standing in front of Noelle's sculpture; she looked sad from behind. Defeated.
Kris restrained a shiver. It was damn cold in there.
They felt their skin numb even more as they crossed their arms and stood silently. Ralsei inhaled deeply and summoned a few fireballs to hug the statues, and slowly, gradually, it began to melt. Kris watched in growing concern as cracks coursed over the surfaces; Noelle was faster, being smaller than the doctor, but they would both shatter with a resounding, all-mighty crack either way. The reindeer tumbled to the snow, Susie reaching out to catch her. She slumped into the monster's arm, hands clasping softly around her bare forearms as she unhurriedly woke up. She beat her eyes blearily, murmuring and moaning in confusion.
"Hey, Noelle," Susie cheered, ameliorated. Kris trudged over. "Hey! Damn, I thought you weren't waking up from that."
Noelle drawled, "Wha… where… uh, where… are we…?" Her fur was crawling with droplets of water, some odd white radiance splaying over her.
"Dunno. Come on, let's get outside and get you warmed up, let Ralsei get the book out." Wincing, Ralsei returned to warming the doctor. Susie supported Noelle and helped her up, holding a solid grip on her arm and leading her outside.
"I'm… I'm not cold anymore," Noelle explained, "seriously, I'm fine."
Susie doted on her, all but dragging her outside to sit next to the ignited remnants of the building. She was more than happy to be alone with Noelle, Kris thought. She just didn't quite know it yet.
Focus on freeing your final ally. You need all the power you can get.
Kris joined Ralsei as fire danced over the second statue, peeling back inches of glacial-blue and revealing the untouched, pristine coat of the doctor.
"Hmm, looks like she didn't get an upgrade like I did. Maybe it's because I already had my armor on, or maybe she just isn't meant for fighting." Ralsei sent a side-long glance at them.
"I noticed! You look great, Kris! Like a chilly knight!" Kris felt their skin flush a little at that.
Your appearance is an important factor to others' perception of you. As a general proof, more armor indicates higher importance. This perception of you, along with common benefit of advanced protection, is an express objective to maintain.
"…thanks." Ralsei hummed happily and nodded at them. Were they always this conscious of other people, or was it just him?
He continued. "And, you got a new sword! What is it called? Is it meant to be that way," he inspected the Rapier, "because I could try to unfreeze it…?"
"No, no!" Kris let their anxiety slip some. "It's fine, it's fine. It's stronger, I think. Feels heavier and cuts better somehow." His brows rose in interest. Kris felt themself start to spill over some, "I mean, the vents are clogged some but that might just slow down the gas release. Keep it controlled, you know, and I could probably be more liberal with the uses. I'm already out of the one canister Detter gave me," Kris thumbed the opening on the hilt of their sword, "and since the poisoner is dead, I don't reckon we'll be getting much more."
Ralsei blinked and stared.
"What?"
'Reckon.'
Shut up.
"It's nothing, Kris," Ralsei lied horribly, restraining laughter as his paws shook, "nothing… pfft, at all." He calmed himself, refocusing on the ordeal of decreasing his magic's power in increments. "Really. It's okay. Maybe Rouxls could make some more! He is the poisoner's apprentice, right?"
That idea sent a disgusted pang of fright up their spine; Rouxls with the ability to cook up destructive toxins. Surely, that combo would not end in disaster, or worse.
Kris thought about some things as the ice finally distorted and dropped to the snow, the doctor's book falling upon a crumpled pile of turtleneck sweater and lab coat. They survived the Viceroy's trap, defeated one of his valuable allies. If he wasn't caught in the explosion, then he would have probably left through the entranceway, got caught by the other doctors. They wondered where the bird went, where the other people went. Somehow, the idea that everything fell into place while they were frozen or fighting seemed too easy, like a dream. Angel, they hated dreams. Just made reality more crushing. He probably slipped past, or maybe Rouxls was still helping him; teleported him away to safety and completely avoided the rear guard. Kris was unsure if they won this game or not, because they were down resources, a save file, and likely lost their chance to stop it all right there. Compared to Boyles, who they almost managed to talk down, everything - everything - was going the other way. Wasn't that life, though? For Kris to be on the bad end? Like usual. And then there was Ralsei. Kris was finding it harder to look at him without having that weight in their chest burgeon and choke them again.
He was just so unbearably conscious of them. Even just complimenting their appearance was something new to them; only their parents and their brother bothered to do so. It was uncomfortable with them, but at least they knew it was just something socially expected, but Ralsei went out of his way to be so nice(?) to them - Kris, a stranger.
Flirt.
Oh, for Angel's sake, fuck the other. Kris wasn't in the joking mood; they were seriously concerned and scared of pretty much everything around them.
He admires you. You appreciate him. You like him. He likes you. The operator believes that is something worthwhile.
When it would just disintegrate next timeline? Sure, yeah, that sounds more like the other. Since it can't openly torture them until the threat of their power being stolen was gone, it was just trying to sow the seeds to punish them later, in a more meaningful, unique way. Just like Noelle, the other was going to use it against them. Like it always did.
Are you not willing to take the risk?
'Risk', from the computer that calculated dozens of variables at once, and tried to choose the best course of action with the highest likelihood of success. Really clever. Very believable.
You are a teenager possibly on the cusp of certain death. You have endured years of despair and solitude. The operator does not believe that you do not desire someone willing to engage with you romantically.
And Kris didn't give two fucks what the other thought, it was just a piece of asshole machine wrapped in shitty cloth and sent to make their life hell, and they were not letting it try to dictate their love life when it already owned every other aspect.
"Oh," Ralsei gasped as the book began to squirm and move across the pile of clothes, as though a stiff breeze had caught on a leaf and sent it slightly backward in the wind. The leather covers twisted and bent; her whole pile of clothes gave a skin-crawling shiver. Kris felt the urge to retreat, but stayed still, silent. Ralsei slowly killed his own fire as a white blaze began to excrete from the inner pages, curling and embracing the cover of the book warmly, clinging like an aura of magic, spreading awkwardly down to the bundle of clothes. Gradually, it began to worm inside, reminding Kris of something like the alien movies Noelle used to watch. The slow, back-and-forth movement of the clothes as they dipped and rose fascinated Kris, in some macabre way, and they barely noticed the slow growth of a phantom-body into what was Detter's vessel. The book was still face-down on the snow, but as the torso and legs began to take form, so too did the flames spread outward and congeal into the shapes of hot, globular balls. With the faint sound of a brushing wind, the floating orbs hardened and split like plaster into two hands with holes, and then off-handedly pulled at the book.
On her knees, Detter's body warped and trembled, correcting the finer, subtler shapes in an ominously silent display of her assuming a monster form. Then, her hands cracked open the book, lifted it to her head, and finally dropped it. Instead of falling, it hovered, spun a few pages, and displayed a startled exclamation mark. Detter warbled a dismayed sigh.
"I almost thought the Fountain was sealed again," she hummed in concentration, drawing her hands over her book, "but I am quite pleased that is not the case. Thank you, Kris and Ralsei. That was incredibly admirable from Noelle's part. Commendable, how she figured to use her magic," Detter shook her book, flicking some stray droplets off and into the snow, "and even proved unforeseeably beneficial. Your items are clearly transmogrified."
"Transmogri… what," Kris shook their head. "Nevermind. Are you okay? You're not having the reaction everyone else had." They were done being subtle. "Are you even slightly hindered by the fact that you were just frozen inside a sculpture?"
"No, not much," Detter replied. "You either live or you die. We three were far separate from the former. Yet, here we stand." She brushed down her clothes and stood, bending over and adjusting her coat to form a perfect circle around her legs. "I am sincere when I say that I haven't a single clue why I should be distraught. We are alive and well."
Detter was no-nonsense, walking toward the exit to the ice-cavern, book bobbing just ahead of her and below her neck to avoid bending over. Kris and Ralsei shared a dubious look.
"Umm," Ralsei smiled nervously, "she seems fine!"
"Yeah," Kris scoffed. "'Fine.'"
"So, we live to fight on," Detter preached as soon as everyone gathered onto the walkway leading into the garden.
By then, most of the grass had been burned away, leaving the blackened, tarnished ashes of a once-beautiful garden in their wake, a stunning clash of fading color at the edges of their vision, the paved walkway underfoot, and the towering, all-consuming funnel of nothingness that lead outward to the city giving Kris some sort of visceral, full-body fear that made their shoulders tense and their stomach turn. It went out in a vast semi-circle of simmering flames, dead grass, and the brick wall. They were sweating despite the cold: Their shiver wasn't from the low temperature.
They had the whole Dark World ahead of them, and this time, they didn't know what to do, where to go, or how to win.
They were lost, alone, afraid.
Fire blazing bright behind you, a certain feeling stirs in your chest. Broken, tattered, afraid and lost, the power of willful conquest shines through you.
0-0-0
Somewhere deep in the city streets, far from the safe housing of the Asylum they had grown accustomed to, a certain Lunatyke was wandering aimlessly, far from the Fountain, far from the Asylum, far from the Prophecy and Angel.
Zero had escaped from the Asylum easily; Ocvory was preoccupied with the other patients, as were the other doctors, so they found their exit quietly and decided it was finally time to leave the situation. Ralsei would seek them out, Kris would seek them out, should the two be interested in what Zero wanted from them. Zero knew it would happen eventually. Zero knew Ralsei would discover what they hid inside the puzzle cube and find them, later, when things were on the cusp of tragedy.
Until then, they wandered.
Across the asphalt plains, Zero came upon the ruined structure that was once the toy shop of the Dark World. It was dilapidated, second-floor roof collapsed into the heart of it and breaking the front and sides down into nothing but a pathetic pile of bricks and rubble. The debris had bits of color poking outward, some toys still remaining in the remnants of shelves spilled over and into the street, mixing with the glass and upshored rocks. The rest of the row of shops and buildings were impeccable, unbeaten and almost as splendorous as the city was before. Of course, the perfect flower beds and furnished porches were tattered now, bits and pieces of broken wooden planks covered with overgrown vines and dusted from years of mistreatment and abuse. Each house was made for only one Darkner, as the population wasn't all that great before the plague anyway, and it wasn't uncommon for many homes to have broken walls where two Darkners broke them down to connect them. Families, couples, close friends.
Zero wondered what all that was like as they clambered up the difficult slope, mindful of the pointy rebar and rough insides of the building's frame, settling down near the remains of a window once they reached the top and bundling themself up in their wings.
They didn't remember anything from before they were 'born', or infected, so they didn't recall ever being apart of that strangely endearing ritual, though their knowledge came from their experience around the doctors.
The Dark World wasn't all that cold, but still, at the thought of the Asylum, their fabric body felt chilled, and they scrunched together tighter, laying down against the hard floor and sweeping away some rubble absent-mindedly.
They supposed it was time for some sleep. Nothing much to do until then, until the Lightners understood; so Zero metaphorically closed their eyes and pretended to sleep. It would come eventually.
Then, they began to hear the faint, distant sound of something foreign. Like boots. But they knew that no Lunatics wore boots, or Lobotomy for that matter. As curious as a child typically was, they stretched out their small body and sat up, peering over the window and into the streets.
They didn't recognize the figures on the street, the mind of a child too innocent and too uneducated to explain exactly what they saw somewhat dragging the scene's description down. They didn't understand what they saw, but maybe if they explained it to someone, perhaps Kris or Ralsei later, they would understand the exact magnitude of the danger present having breached the Fountain walls.
There were lots of shining things, lots of glints of metal and artificial lights combing over the dim streets. Five of them, each relaxed and calm, stomped deftly over the rubble and clutter, their clothes some odd color scheme of gray and white bleeding together, at least what wasn't covered in heavy, thick vests of some sort. They carried in their hands some metallic black tool, ridged and textured like some odd, stocky machine.
They talked amongst themselves, the crackle of some sort of speaker breaking further than their voices, emanating from some device strapped to the figures' chests on a strap looped through the clunky vests. One of the figures paused, placed their hand on the device, and spoke low into it. Waiting for a second, the figure glanced around vigilantly, then the speaker responded.
The five shared a nod, lifted their tools in clear preparation for something, then fanned out in the street, a few occasionally scanning the rooftops and their backsides. As they approached, their faces, covered partly in some black mask-like veil, could be subtly seen as different colors. Red feathers, black fur, some grayish skin. It was the only individuality peeking from their uniform garbs and slightly different outlines on the dark streets. There was a certain unease in the way they all walked the same, talked in their distant group, and conversed all the while hogging the streets and flashing their metal implements.
Someone said something and some laughter rang out, Zero was relieved at that.
Though, as soon as they untensed their wings, they had to tense them again. Another figure appeared in the street, down the other side, apart from the newcomers, and Zero recognized it as one of their siblings. The Lunatic snarled and gurgled and whirred, stumbling closer to the strangers, and taking a moment to recognize them with their camouflage clothing.
The Lunatic slowly grew closer, growling, holding their wings to their shoulders. Zero cheered them on silently.
The newcomers barely reacted, merely sharing an unspoken question to each other before the one that answered the speaker before spoke into it again.
Garbled noise came back. Zero couldn't hear.
The Lunatic roared and began to crouch down, launched forward, claws splitting in the air like a whirlwind of primal anger, emboldened by the howling that started far in the distance; Zero watched with glee as it soared over to the five, flying through the air with astounding physical strength, breaking with magic summoned into pills ready to be sent toward the strangers.
The one talking gave their friends the thumbs-up with one gloved hand.
They raised their gleaming tools, put their cheeks onto the surface of them. Scrunched against the stocks, Zero could no longer see their eyes.
Zero felt their wings curl in fright. The Lunatic hurtled toward them, and Zero's chest burst with the urge to call out with their tiny, weak voice and warn it.
The figures waited for a second, a beat, one single strike of their watches as the Darkner came forth like a bat out of hell, wholly unbothered by the scene of the monstrous strait-jacketed animal.
Something was murmured.
Zero ducked in fear as the street exploded with noise, the incessant rattling grating their head like the clacks of their rock against the chair, except much louder, busting around the relatively quiet city with brassy, thundering pops, booms, bangs, and then there was the short, but audible and shaking crying of the Darkner as it was eviscerated and turned into shredded paper by the soldiers. The roaring, riotous pulses of painful noise slowed in what seemed like minutes, but was really a handful of seconds. Zero dropped to the floor and clutched their wings against their pounding head as though attacked themself.
Then, all was quiet. Zero stayed frightfully silently, already abnormal breathing choked in their chest as the idea that they would be next blasted into their mind.
Still, after a terse few seconds, they had to see the aftermath, and glanced over the window sill, receiving only the hope-crushing sight of one of the soldiers standing over the remains of the Lunatic, gun relaxed and low as they kicked at the loose papers and quirked their lips banally.
"First contact," they spoke into their speaker. "Target down. Weak to bullets. Whatever it was, it is dead now. Over."
The speaker crackled. There was a moment of silence.
Another voice responded, "Good man." It sputtered out. Then, again, with a slightly firmer tone. "Sargeant Hatchen, your orders are as follows; identify and inhabit any potential vantage point for further field deployment. Squadrons are being sent to assist you and occupy the Dark World. Lieutenant Heige's offensive is experiencing extreme resistance. Expect orders to relocate to Site One. Over."
"Understood." 'Hatchen' spoke into the receiver. "Approaching possible location now. Over."
The Coalition soldiers began to walk away, their boots clacking faintly against the floor of the prison that was now the Dark World. And Zero stayed completely still, quivering slightly, afraid to even peek over the window again.
One set of boots stopped suddenly.
"Sargeant?" One of the other soldiers spoke.
"Nothing." He said. "Just give it a second."
The core-rocking howls of the swarms of Lunatics rang out again, clear as day as they were likely on their way to the site of the gunfire and murder; Zero almost wept.
The fizzle and peal of far-away gunfire filled the air instead, the howls taking on a more panicked tone as the clashing bangs overtook them.
Hatchen huffed a small laugh.
The Lunatic swarms were slaughtered in the distance by the other squads, and the soldier inhaled a refreshed breath.
"Never gets old."
0-0-0
Kris and their group paused as they exited the tunnel to the city streets. The answer was 'yes', to their question of whether or not Rouxls was capable of brewing them up something to use for their sword. They were still anxious, licking their wounds, pretending not to steal glances at Ralsei as he walked happily next to them, stewing in the same thoughts as them, albeit significantly more… cuter? They squirmed under their armor at the usage of the word, but the face he made had them reeling on fascination, curiosity they didn't have before.
Everyone was unwinding, recovering from the explosion, not even moved to hurry when Kris brought up the idea that the Viceroy was ahead of them. Either the rear guard caught him or they didn't; wasn't much point worrying about it.
Detter was just in the process of questioning (psychoanalyzing) Rouxls, a stream of questions brought about in part by his answer to her simple question of 'why the Viceroy', followed by 'is there a reason you feel the need to be evil', and 'what was your relationship with your father like'. Rouxls, unfortunately, gave her answers like, 'it was the best patheth', 'I liketh being the Terrible Minion of Horride Monarcks', and 'incredible, I seest him every Thursday'.
Susie and Noelle were joking and laughing, Susie double-checking that she was alright. Noelle replied honestly, that she was feeling sick to her stomach and more than a little regretful that she used such a dangerous spell that could have almost killed the three of them. Susie responded like Susie; 'nah, it was totally badass'. Kris was almost holden to the idea of talking, genuinely, to Ralsei. He would listen, though he wouldn't get the full picture; he wouldn't understand, they felt, and there was no point talking to him just to confuse and worry him. All words melted on their tongue, evaporated into thin air, never to be seen or heard from again, like everyone else, when they heard the stark prattle of gunfire in the distance.
Kris's blood went cold. They blinked, took inventory of their friends' expressions. The Lightners understood, Susie and Noelle looking equally surprised as grim, but the Darkners were more confused at the noise.
"That seemeth to be an Massive amounte of popcorn." Rouxls humorously commented.
"Hmm. That sounds like bubblewrap, somewhat." Detter's crooked book stared off into the distance.
"…" Ralsei looked dumbfounded. "What do you think that was, Kris?"
Susie, Noelle, and Kris shared a troubled, knowing look. Kris shifted slightly. The bangs continued to ring out for another few minutes, the group completely halted and listening intently, more curious than frightened; Ralsei listened into it, tilting his head and taking his hat off like he was listening to a choir song. Detter's pages were blank, Rouxls just looked awkward.
Eventually, Susie spoke up. She took a step forward with the scythe-blade falling to the floor, barely holding the haft as she sibilated. "Aw, shit. This isn't a damn videogame, is it? The government's figured us out." She smiled. It wasn't real. "Oh, man, we're gonna be shot. Ya know, like, all over, and die. It's gonna be painful."
"Umm, Susie. What do you mean, 'shot'?" Ralsei inquired, the first of the Darkners to do so. He felt along the wide-brim of his hat. A wordless air followed, sinking a wide pit of unease and faltering certainty into Kris, who merely ducked their head. Their hands fell around their waist, pawing at their Rapier and their pockets, finding some comfort inside the warmth of the frozen coat. "…Susie?"
Noelle let out a harrowed breath, running her hands over her robes, "…umm… i-it means that, uh, they have guns, that can kill us…"
New Objective: Survive.
