You were lamenting your harsh words to Sans as you walked. There must have been a better way to refuse his assistance, or even something you could have said to somewhat patch the damage you'd caused. Nothing came to mind though.
Sometimes, you hated the way your mind worked. You valued the truth, cherished it even. But sometimes, the truth simply didn't need to be said. That wasn't lying, so why did you have so much trouble keeping offensive thoughts to yourself?
A ping on the edge of your magical senses halted your introspection quickly. You cursed your luck as you realized that you were not quite in footwear that was conducive to running. Trying to avoid drawing unnecessary attention, you hid your unease and kept walking without changing pace.
Your phone was in your hand, number already dialed. Jamie wouldn't answer, but that hardly meant anything. You immediately hung up and redialed when it went to voicemail, repeating the process again before slipping your phone back into your pocket. Three times meant trouble.
Another flare in your senses made you turn, despite the fact you hadn't intended to. Whoever it was knew you would avoid any conflict. The chances that they were herding you were pretty high.
It was definitely a good thing you hadn't given in and let Sans come with you.
The biggest problem for you when confronted with unfriendly mages was that you were limited to unspecialized magic for any sort of defense or offense, whereas the other party usually was not. Jamie also probably wouldn't come help unless absolutely necessary, and only if nothing else had his attention.
You needed neutral ground, and quickly. Somewhere that didn't have bystanders or non-mages, because chances were slim that this would play out nicely. Maybe even somewhere where the terrain could work to your advantage.
Too bad outside city limits wouldn't work, since you couldn't leave.
You made an abrupt left, heading in a direction you could tell your pursuers weren't expecting. They didn't wait long after you jumped the fence of the abandoned warehouse. "What have we here?"
You recognized this person. This was one of the teenagers from the mall. The ones who hadn't entered the store. He was a mage, clearly illustrated as a ball of light floated inches above his palm. How had you missed it?
"It's that monster-lover from before." The second one stated from somewhere one your left. There was one more hanging around that you could sense. "Our friends got arrested thanks to you, girlie."
"Good." You spat, trying to calculate which direction from here gave you the best opportunity for escape. Three was more than you had sensed before. You were in real trouble now. "They deserved it."
"I must say, at the time I certainly didn't expect you to be a mage. Why would anyone with magic support the monsters, as much as they set us back?" The first one asked. Rhetorically, you assumed, since he continued without a break in the monologue. "I can't, for the life of me, figure it out. Then again, I'm not sure I want to hear anything a traitor like you has to say."
You cursed internally as the second teen conjured an orb of crackling dark energy. He may not seem to have too much control, but in this instance, that could be devastating. War-mages could cause catastrophic amounts of damage, and you certainly weren't equipped to handle it.
They noticed the backwards step you took. The first one cackled at you, "What? Don't have your friends to protect you this time?" He wished. You were more than happy none of them were present.
You threw a quickly conjured ball of light at the two of them before dashing into the building. It wasn't at all dangerous, but you highly doubted they could easily distinguish that immediately. These were teenagers who went to school where there wasn't an academy.
It turns out you were correct, as it took them precious seconds before following you, dangerous energy ball dispersed. They didn't have the experience needed to quickly determine magic types like you did.
You needed to get to the roof. If you got up there, you could jump to the telephone pole just outside of the fence line and hopefully lose them on the confusing streets beyond. Thankfully, your smaller form allowed you to slip between the large crates and fallen shelves much more easily than your assailants.
If your magic had a voice, it certainly would have been screaming at your stupidity as you approached the too-open stairs. There was no cover from this point on. As it was, all it could do was continuously send you warning pings.
It wasn't wrong, you noted as a sharp pain shot through your side. The pain caused you to falter, slamming too-roughly into the cold, metallic staircase. The holes between the steps, meant to conserve material, proved to be just as dangerous as workers argued, as your arm slipped through one, slicing open from the cut metal. You were lucky; if they'd shot much lower, your ability to run would be seriously impaired.
There hadn't been the noise of a gun being fired. They'd brought a magun. How had they managed to afford that? The magun would condense the user's magic into a small, volatile ball of energy that was undetectable before firing. This also meant that any magun you had ever charged had actually healed the targets. Even if you had one, it wouldn't even your odds at all.
Pushing through, you scrambled back up as quickly as your protesting body would allow. If you moved quickly enough, they wouldn't have time to recharge their weapon.
The war mage blasted all of the obstacles out of the way as you reached the second floor. As they started up after you, you thanked the stars that the magic hadn't backlashed out of control. Easily he could have destroyed the whole building, as well as everyone in it, to include himself.
A second shot flew past your head, searing your cheek as you reached the iron door. They had to have two maguns, because first: that was fire magic and second: this one was a worse shot. Not wasting any more time, you wrenched the door open and flew up the stairs to the roof, slamming the door behind you.
Again, it wouldn't stop them, but it netted you precious seconds. They managed to shoot at you again as you leapt. This one was the good shot too, so the first one. You slammed into the pole much harder than you'd intended, tears springing to your eyes from the sudden pain in your shoulder. You could feel the blood dripping down your skin inside your shirt.
You dropped the last fifteen feet, bending your knees as you landed. Exactly one minute and forty seconds between the first shot and the third. A minute and a half recharge. You only had twenty seconds at best before the fire mage could fire at you again.
When he did fire, it wasn't at you. He ignited some trash in the alley in front of you, forcing you to change direction quickly. They were herding you again. You cursed at yourself for not just running through the flames. If you'd been quick, it would have been fine.
The second one -the war mage- cut you off just before the main road, grabbing you roughly and shoving you up against the brick wall. Your head hit hard, blacken spots blooming across your vision momentarily. He slammed your head into the wall again before dropping you.
You crumpled. The first teen caught up, gripping your soaked shirt by the collar and dragging you up into a sitting position braced against the wall. "You've got some nerve, dragging us through all this." He told you, raising his magun to point right between your eyes. "You're getting what you deserve, traitor."
A bright orange shield surrounded you just as he fired. "Sorry it took me so long, _." A too-cheery voice greeted. "You definitely covered some distance though, Chica."
Voice number one cried out in pain, and you knew, despite the fact you couldn't see, that Jamie was none too pleased. "Fuck off! Who the hell do you think you are!" He shouted.
"It takes someone with no morals," Jamie began, voice dangerous, "to attack a healer. You will regret it." You wanted to stop him. You hated pain and suffering, and certainly didn't want Jamie to cause it because of you.
You couldn't. The world turned black again, taking sound and feeling with it this time.
Alphys glared at her phone, disbelieving. Your friend, Fuku, had called, worried because you hadn't gotten back from her place yet. She wasn't sure if she should care, but she couldn't just ignore a call from a monster that needed help.
And, you had left hours ago.
Tentatively, she dialed a familiar number. "I'M COMING TOO." Sans stated simply as she approached the door.
"You don't owe her, Sans." Alphys argued half-heartedly.
"SHE IS MY FRIEND. I'M COMING." He ground out in response, glaring at her as the canine unit arrived. "IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MY OWING HER ANYTHING."
Knowing there was no arguing with him, she turned to the assembled monster dogs. Alphys barely had to tell them who they were looking for before they took off. Of course, they knew you. How could she forget?
Nothing seemed odd for about half of the trip, until your scent suddenly veered off course. You weren't heading for the dorms anymore. It was rather sudden, since she knew the exact path you had taken to get to her house, which was the same one you intended to take on the return trip.
Alphys shared a glance with Sans as they continued on to an abandoned warehouse. She couldn't deny any longer that Fuku may have had cause to call them in. You really could have been in trouble.
Your scent led inside, but Doggo found its exit point without them needing to get permission to enter. Where he found it, though, made Sans grind his teeth in worry. They didn't even need the canine unit anymore. They could just follow the crimson trail you'd left behind. Lesser Dog noted the presence of three additional male scents starting from this point.
Greater Dog confirmed, when her skeletal second had asked, that the blood was indeed yours. The ensuing silence from Sans was more than a small bit unnerving.
You were a mage! You had hidden it from them! Why was she so damn worried about you right now? Why couldn't she just hate your guts like she was supposed to? When it was all your peoples' fault that hers had suffered so much?
But she was worried. There was no avoiding it. Alphys liked you. You had wormed your stupid, magical self into her Soul and taken up residence there.
Thankfully, the trail you'd left turned away from the charred alleyway. Alphys allowed herself to hope, momentarily, that you had gotten away from whoever was after you. It was a short-lived hope.
The trail didn't go on for much farther before ending just feet away from a main road. A splash of red decorated the wall like some sort of morbid graffiti. Dogamy pointed out the addition of yet another male scent, but that was it. Your trail ended completely in a pool of crimson.
As if you'd vanished. There was no more following you. She would have to call Fuku back with the…non-existent findings. This scene reminded her so much of the early days after the barrier fell. Tracking a missing monster with the unit, only to end at a pile of dust.
But humans left bodies, didn't they? Where was yours? Did that mean you were alive somewhere? She didn't dare to hope quite yet.
Out of the corner of her eye, Alphys saw Sans clench his gloved hands into fists.