At a quiet corner of the hospital, a swarm of glowing crimson butterflies circulated around the caster, Mezil Thyme. The feedback resulted in the same dead end no matter how hard he tried.

[ERROR: FILE NOT FOUND]

Just as I suspected: the Keys of Fate won't function in this dimension...

Sigh. What good it is to steal my own soul? My father's silliness knows no bounds.

I suppose I should go and check the bill. Insurance is a fickle matter. If I'm in my home territory, paying the full cost wouldn't be a problem. But here… I'll have to arrange something. Somehow.

Now for a long trek to the lobby. Along the way, he stopped at the path that would lead back to the cafeteria.

…

I don't think now is a good moment to meet my father yet.

Therefore, he resumed his journey. Once there, he received a copy of the bill without any issues. Judging from the budgeting session, the Winston family's health insurance covered only half of the payment. That's not counting the actual birth and postpartum costs yet.

…Well. If he didn't participate in the race, he would have at least a thousand extra.

What else can I sell to All Fine Labs? Rare metals are pointless, and so are magic batteries. Technology? One Intensive Recovery Pod? No, that's too expensive. Besides, I can't explain how a whole piece of equipment could vanish from The Spire without a trace.

Perhaps a copy of the schematics would do. Let this Doctor Alphys reverse engineer the science for local application.

A man called from behind. "Excuse me, sir?"

Mezil Thyme turned around. "Yes, can I help you?"

At that moment, time seemed to freeze for Mezil. Of all the possible monsters to meet in this zany world, he least expected to bump into this person.

...It was Lucidia's father.

He's a man with a great heart for children: well known for his meticulous care even for the most difficult of cases. What irony for him to have a wife whose heart strayed in the opposite direction, who treated her offspring as extensions of her personal dreams.

"Sir?" he asked again. "Are you Connor Winston's friend?"

Mezil asked back: "Is your name Palatino?"

The skeleton blinked in surprise. "Yes. I'm Magdalene Winston's midwife."

Huh… They've been on the surface for at least four years then.

Looking at the bill, Palatino asked: "Are you paying for him?"

"If possible, yes." Mezil replied. "Where's Connor?"

"Mister Winston is taking his daughter to the babysitter. He told me to correspond with you in the meantime."

Hmm? After that nasty vampire accusation?

…Not a bad turn of events. I want to know more about my mother's condition anyway.

"How is Madam Winston?" the man asked.

"She's stable for now," Palatino replied. "Her blood pressure is back to normal, and the baby is getting adequate oxygen. Doctors have put her under close monitoring for the next twenty-four hours."

"Should we request a cesarean?"

The monstrous midwife shook his head. "Since her pregnancy is beyond 37 weeks, I wouldn't recommend it. Natural labour is preferred whenever possible. Major surgery risks infection and other related complications."

"What if the baby happens to be late?" Although Mezil knew it wouldn't happen, he thought to ask out of curiosity.

"We'll induce labour."

"Can she survive the strain?"

The midwife smiled. "When she contacted me, Missus Winston insisted on a seated birth. I'm one of the few who know how to do it. Gravity should help her plenty."

Everything matches Lucidia's notes thus far. Apparently, the same arrangements were made in my world…

Mezil bowed to the skeleton. "Thank you for your thorough care."

"No problem at all." For a moment, Palatino looked at the human with great curiosity. "You are… not a vampire. I've met true vampires in this town. They have a particular aura. Yours is… different."

What an interesting turn of events. "Huh. You're the first to think so. Yes Mister Palatino, I'm a true human. Biologically, at least."

Palatino's sockets widened, intrigued. "Is that so? That explains the mixed signals. You're covered in a strange magical shell. In fact, I thought you were a monster at first."

"This town is full of otherworldly wizards, warlocks, and mages. I don't think I'm that unique."

"Oh no, no. It's nothing like those either. You have a vibe similar to… skeletons? My species, I mean."

Well, I am after all decked in The Code from my clothes to my psychia. Comes to show how far I've drifted away from the standard 'human'.

I wonder if Sans and Papyrus noticed that same oddity? They're not Seers in this world. Could it be the reason for their immediate affinity…? No. Sans is Sans, while Papyrus is The Great Papyrus; he will always help a person in need.

…The lack of a Seer's Eye is for the better anyway. Not every version of that youth needs to bear the same kind of burden.

Later, they went to visit the pregnant mother. After a short interview, they discovered that she already suffered from symptoms since morning. Her ignorance had confused the omen with standard labour pains.

Palatino apologized: "Missus Winston, I'm sorry that I couldn't come any sooner."

The woman shook her head. "It's fine Mister Palatino. I was the silly goose for not watching out. I'm nowhere near the high-risk group, so it never crossed my mind."

Rubbing the belly, she frowned with worry. "My little boy is alright, I hope."

"He's more resilient than you'd think," Mezil reassured.

Giggling, Magdalene teased: "You talk as if you're the kiddo."

Technically, that is true.

Mezil ignored her cheeky statement. Instead, he said: "Please forward your thanks to Sans and The Great Papyrus. You're here due to their timely intervention."

The midwife tilted his head. "Are you going to leave yourself out of the equation, Mister Thyme? Mister Winston told me everything."

"Huh?" asked the woman.

Showing his hand to Mezil, he said, "Your husband told me that he was the one who alerted us about your condition."

"Ooooooh! I get it now! He used his future knowledge to save me~"

"T-the future?" Palatino blinked.

"Ahuh. In another dimension, he's Connor's grandfather revived as a vampire! Apparently he's been protecting his grandson throughout the years, even if he doesn't remember our connection. That's so sweet of him."

"Ma'am, he's not a vampire."

"What do you mean? Look at his fashion! That's 100% vampire approved clothing. With a big V!"

"From what I sensed, he's more of a skeleton. Except with skin and muscle."

"But all humans are skeletons with skin and muscle... You're not making any sense Mister Palatino."

Mezil excused himself before he had to listen to more of this embarrassing fantastical fantasy.

Once out of earshot, he let out a big sigh.

What did my story mutate into? It's for the better, I suppose. I am leaving soon, and I don't think I'll ever return. It might be too difficult to say goodbye if they knew the truth.

It was then that Connor happened to return. His expression raised serious concerns. Mezil sensed that it's filled with 'determination'.

Whatever it may be, the elder Determinator prepared himself to face any music.

The two men thus had a stand-off. Winston Senior versus Winston Junior. What would the topic be?

Winston Senior took a deep breath and said: "W-w-we need to talk. Son!"

Two men sat down at the corner in the cafeteria, facing each other from their respective single-seat chairs. The sheer heat of midday kept them indoors despite the noise of the lunch crowd.

One was the father, and the other was his son. One could be forgiven for thinking that age was the measurement here.

The father was a young man named Connor.
The son was an elder mage named Mezil.

Connor couldn't look his son in the eye. He kept staring at his cup of tea, growing colder by the second in the cool air-conditioned air.

Meanwhile, Mezil already finished his cup of plain water. He said: "We could move elsewhere if this place is too noisy."

"No," Connor replied. "No. We're staying here to deal with it like men."

"You've not said anything since then."

"I know. I know that. It's just…" The young father clenched his hands, "I still remember your warnings. It's one thing to hear it from a third-party. But... You… you're my son from the future."

Lowering his head, he added: "A future where we're drunk losers."

Mezil Thyme remained stoic. "And?"

"I want to know if… if you resent us."

"Hmph. How I think as a child is not the same as how I think as an adult. My feelings do not apply here."

Connor lifted his head up, this time fuelled with the fire of irritation. "Why? If I know where we fell, we could prevent ourselves from doing the same!"

"Wrong approach." Mezil pointed the top of his cane to the general direction of the maternity ward. "Your true family should be your main focus, not my immutable past."

Putting his cane back down, he resumed. "You live in a different dimension, in a different country, under different circumstances. As long as you're reasonable with money, you won't have to worry about the what-ifs."

"I… I see…"

Connor lost his fire and resumed staring at the untouched cup with worry.

But Mezil then said, "Besides… you're the one who took the first steps of recovery."

"Huh?" How the youngster couldn't believe his ears. "I did? I mean, I thought Maggie would be the sensible one. Heh. She always calls me the goof."

"With that 'goof' comes the grit for an optimistic outcome. It's quite a double edged sword, considering that hand-cranked bike."

Facing the mixture of his garage hubris and the unexpected praise, Connor burst into an uncomfortable chuckle.

Once the bout faded, Connor said, "Wow. You really are just like grandpa. I can't believe my son is gonna be so cool. Too cool!"

Mezil cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but living in this zany town may shape him into a different man. He may not become exactly like me."

"But your base personality would be the same, right?"

This time, Mezil glanced aside in discomfort. "Well. I suppose, yes."

The father began to sparkle in excitement. "Gosh, I'm so chuffed. Hey, why don't we have lunch? My treat as your Number One Dad."

"Save that for your actual son!" the other protested. "But yes, lunch would be nice. I'm getting rather peckish."

With their moods improved, they had a lunch of pilaf together. Mezil Thyme sprinkled some dried chili flakes on his plate.

"So," asked Connor, "What time were you born?"

Mezil paused to think. "My wife says that she is the dawn and I am the dusk. Since we're in the middle of Summer, I'm guessing about eleven."

"Ah, that means it's a long way to go. I'm going to talk to Palatino about Maggie's condition. If she's stable I think I'll go home and take a shower first."

"Still need time to embrace a new normal?"

"I guess. What about you, son?"

"I'll head to All Fine Labs for further arrangements. I'd like to go to my home dimension tomorrow or the day after."

"Will you come back?"

The son noted how hopeful his other father's face was. Yet…

"Preferably, no," so Mezil replied. "I do not want to expose my world to more otherworldly threats than I have to."

The Magus looked at the colourful lunch crowd. They had customers both big and small, mortal and immortal, damned and divine.

He said, "I apologize for my pessimism, but I consider Ebott's Wake to be a ticking time bomb. My delayed mail is proof that these rifts are not the most stable of entities. Furthermore, the presence of deities and fantastical creatures will inevitably attract ill intentions. A catastrophe will happen down the line. Mark my words."

Connor was perturbed by the news at first… but eventually his goofy optimism proved a stronger force.

"We'll survive. Bad guys may try to find trouble. But, there will be good guys too. I bet the Shop Class can take care of anything that comes in my way. Besides, my awesome cool son will soon exist!"

Mezil glared. "Provided he's old enough to even defend himself."

With great confidence, Connor thumped his chest. "Leave the parenting to me! I'll find out what he's good at."

"Guns. I'm quite the sharpshooter. Consider a swordsmanship class too."

"Ooooh I see. Looks like Hal is gonna be a regular presence in our lives now."

"What do you mean?"

"He's the best mechanic and gunman in town! I've already met him a few times for my Firebird. If my tyke is gonna be anywhere as cool as you are, it means hitting the shooting gallery with Hal as his teacher from an early age!"

Mezil Thyme squeezed on his spoon. After drawing a deep, concerned breath he said: "I'm not sure if your son could withstand his eccentricism."

"...You didn't, huh?"

Lunch resumed. After they disposed of the used cutlery in the collection bin and washed up, they prepared to part for the evening.

That would be the case if Palatino didn't rush in with concerning news.

The midwife panted to catch his breath. "Mister Winston! Y-your wife is showing signs of labour!"

"What?!" Mezil checked the time on his phone. "But we're hours too soon! I was supposed to be born at- Wait."

Turning to Connor, the greyed one asked: "Did you bake the bun in England?"

"Buns?" The young father blurted. When he realised what he meant, he blushed pink. "Oh. Oh right. Yeah, we did. We didn't migrate to America until six months ago. I guess when it's done, it's done. Regardless of timezones."

"Her body rhythm would have long acclimatized to American timing. But, if that's the case, then…"

The elder Magus resumed muttering theories to himself: the finer details drowned out by the noise of the cafeteria.

Poor puzzled Palatino was at a loss for words. "I don't understand what's going on."

"I'll explain later!" said Connor. "Let's go see Maggie first."