Entry 16, July 3. 0100H

I'm currently in my hotel room.

The laundry, done.
Necessities, sorted.

And most important of all, I managed to contact Lucidia.

I remember everything now. I was not kidnapped in my sleep. Rather, my predicament derived from the machinations of the grand idiot known as Wendell Dominic Gaster.

I was supposed to meet with Frisk and Sans Serif in the Hub to discuss post-battle cleanup. Which does explain why Lucidia almost dropped Sans from the sky. In actuality, my supposed 'meeting' was a farce and the short duo was kept oblivious to the scheme.

Gaster claimed that they were late to the meeting, which set off my internal alarm right away. Before I could react, however, his Goner aides used their magic to put me to sleep. They then dumped me on a bed of Goldenflowers: right on the outskirts of Ebott's Wake.

Meanwhile, in my Home dimension, The Keys of Fate suffered an unprecedented breakdown. In absence of their previous holder, they - instead of exchanging hands to the next best candidate - automatically rewound to Frisk's last autoSAVE in a last ditch attempt to bring me back. …Before going defunct.

This act of unwitting time travel effectively removed the initial invitation for that meeting. As such, no one had any clue that I was kidnapped until my wife showed up at their doorstep.

Hmm. It appears 'De-Termination' has 'Marked' my presence upon this foreign realm. Quite the alarming turn of events, if I do say so myself.

At least I didn't get 'copied' in that last reset…

TimeCloneMez? Perish the thought.

Either way, that fool Gaster claimed that he had made sure that I would end up in a safe world with no problems getting home within 'a short amount of time'. Unfortunately, that 'short amount of time' might be an entire week. Our first birthday celebration in ages, ruined! Did he know how difficult it was to book that restaurant?

Papyrus gave his 'Uncle Gaster' a long lecture. Lucidia then whipped that fool to collaborate with All Fine Labs. 'Get my husband home safe and sound, or else.' Though I suspect that Gaster was more motivated to appease Papyrus than fearing my wife's threats.

So here I am, stranded in a land of zany time-crashes. At least it's peaceful. And I didn't need to wander around for a decade. Lord knows what would happen back home had that been the case.

P.S:
We decided to donate the restaurant reservation to Queen Toriel and King Asgore. It's up to them whether or not they use it for themselves, or give it away to the scaly couple. Whoever gets the opportunity, they better treasure that moment together.

Entry 17, July 3, 1130H

…Bloody hell. My internal clock shifted forward. I hoped to maintain a diurnal schedule during this 'forced vacation'. So much for finally having breakfast every day…

Instead, I went back to Das Boot for lunch. Their sandwiches and fries are delicious.

At Das Boot is also where I can answer many questions. The bar's decor features 'World War II' memorabilia, alongside lengthy explanations of the timeframe, almost akin to a museum. Since I'm alone now, I could study more about this world's history while I eat. (Refer to Reference 3 at the back of the notebook.)

So, if the northern side of the Far West is called 'America', I would originate from the 'United Kingdom'. Also known as 'Britain'.

Allied Naval Victories. The Pacific. The Atlantic. Axis Germany. Bombing of Pearl Harbour…

Interesting parallels. Though we do not share the same names or geography, the world events mirror each other with eerie uncanny.

It appears that Britain was protected by its surrounding waters. Sea and air units were costly compared to infantry and tanks, complicating conquest efforts from the mainland. Instead, in our version of events, a bloody series of ground battles ensued at the border between 'our' Britain and the enemy Empire.

The Keys of Fate stood at the center of conflict. Victory depended on their ownership.

As the saying goes: 'he who controls time, controls the world'.

Sadly, The Supreme Judge of that dark era turned into a DEMON that my father-in-law had to vanquish in person. Many wrongs were never righted due to that DEMON's delusions of a eugenic utopia. By that point, he was no different from 'The Legendary Hero'. More Gungnir than Magus. More villain than hero.

…History repeats, even as time moves ever onward.

That reminds me of Lucidia's father said when he first met me: 'Well then, I guess that is why many cultures believe in reincarnation.' It's one of those brow-raising statements with little context.

'You're his spitting image', so he clarified. It turns out that my great-grandfather, William Winston, was one of the officers in charge of protecting the border. I was told he was a hero in the truest sense: a humble man, unconcerned with ideology, who always put the lives of his loved ones ahead of his own.

The Grandmaster wondered if we were related. His hunch was later confirmed when I retrieved the medals and photographs from my parents.

Lucidia thought it sad that the rest of my family members ended up being such wrecks by comparison. What good is the continuation of genes when it's marred with dysfunction? My surviving relatives had fallen far, far away from a defender's legacy.

Entry 18, July 3, 1530H

I asked Papyrus if it's possible to arrange a meetup with Frisk. I received a 'YES' in his most typical positive fashion.

This is where the divergence intensifies. This teenage version of Frisk was different in many ways. More than the town itself, in my personal opinion.

The first key difference lay in their speech patterns. Less peppered with Far East lingo, for one. It's strange to not have a Frisk that calls me 'Tsunderjudge'.

The next key difference lay in their mobility. Under Papyrus' watch, I tested this Frisk's physical aptitude with an innocuous newspaper roll. They dodged well, but I could see the difference in their methods.

The Frisk I knew had continued to hone their Gungnir Knife Arts. It's a discipline concealed as a dance, known for its lethal grace. Practitioners will have a certain sense of fluidity. Ebott Wake's Frisk lacked this refinement.

With that said, this Frisk had far greater affinity for STEM fields: science, technology, engineering, and mathematics. They're under apprenticeship at All Fine Labs as well. Quite impressive. Meanwhile, the Frisk I know still needs extra tuition on the art of calculation. They're behind on math. Curious stuff.

In light of my Magus background, they invited me to attend All Fine Lab's evening magic class. It does make me wonder if there's anything of note to learn from their magecraft. Lucidia would find it interesting at least.

The first class starts at 1800 hours. I better end this entry and prepare for an early dinner.

I'll admit that the notion of class at my age feels rather strange. It's mere semantics in this case, but it's been a long time since I sat in a student's chair.

P.S I still can't tell their gender. What is it with Frisks and ambiguity?

Entry 19, July 3, 2200H

'Aspect Magic', as I know it, does not exist in this world. While their magic is also a spectrum, and people do find it easier to cast magic of their respective colour, the 'Aspects' themselves are different from our own.

In Ebott's Wake:

Red = Communication
Orange = Force
Yellow = Energy
Green = Healing
Cyan = Wave
Blue = Dimensional
Magenta = Pattern

Due to these differences, Ebott Wake's Frisk has the ability to conjure fire. On the other hand, elemental magic is not possible in my homeworld unless one has merged with a monster. I guess that's why the folks here say: "in magic, imagination is the limit". If you ask me, imagination requires limits to be functional.

Anyway, today's class focused primarily on 'Pattern Magic', the Magenta spectrum: a nice coincidence since The Purple Aspect is Lucidia's forte.

From what I understood, Pattern Magic is divided into two main forms. The first form depends on conduits of existing 'patterns'. Like drawings, cracks, or materials. The second form would be to create new patterns where none previously existed.

The effectiveness of Pattern Magic depends on the caster's knowledge of relevant physics. For example, if you wish to find something buried, be it treasure or water, you must understand how the molecules of whatever you're looking for react to magic in the Magenta part of the spectrum.

Alternatively, you could focus on the 'patterns' of the earth itself for irregularities. A break in the pattern indicates you've found something other than just dirt, although you won't know exactly what's there until you dig it up. It reminds me of sonars to an extent.

The biggest obstacle in the efficient utilisation and analysis of 'Pattern Magic' lies in the sorting of the patterns in question. Too many patterns equate to senseless noise. It's all a little too chaotic for me, although I doubt my beautiful wife would have any issues utilizing this type of magic. She might even find this easy.

During recess, the students requested to see some of my own abilities. In their terms, my speciality would be Communication Magic: to impose one's will upon another…

However, I didn't want to show the power of Reds before the class. Too many unknowns, not enough security. Therefore, I resorted to my secondary skillset.

I conjured several needle-like projectiles. Patience for focus, Justice for aim. Interestingly, their sensors picked up the correct colour spectrum.

Some assumed that it was a form of crystal magic. Others let their thoughts run wild. I decided to not divulge and let them run with their theories.

Class ended. Papyrus and Frisk invited me to a special double-event. Tomorrow, on the 4th of July, America will celebrate their 'Independence Day'. This year had the rare occurance of coinciding with 'The No-Legged Race', whatever that means.

At least I have something amusing to look forward to.

Meanwhile, I wait for the inevitable midnight fireworks. Forget about sleep until the event dies down.

I wonder, will All Fine Labs be the budding shoots of this world's Magus Association?

Only time will tell. For better or for worse.