WarSwap Chapter Two
Passing through the final archway and stepping into the serene Blue Flower Field, Sansa's eyes widened in astonishment as she beheld a doorway like none she had ever seen. It stood in stark contrast to the tranquil surroundings—an obsidian-black portal framed by a resplendent, shimmering golden archway. The aura of pure nothingness that enveloped this ethereal doorway sent shivers down her spine, but there was no time for questions.
A searing pain suddenly engulfed her back, the source of which she dare not think about in detail—radiation, chemical burns, she couldn't discern. Sansa couldn't afford to pause, not when her life was on the line. With unyielding resolve, she leaped into the yawning void beyond the doorway, vanishing into the inky blackness that awaited her on the other side.
And so we continue…
The clash of energies is an unsettling spectacle, as one world forcefully intertwines with two, then three, and ultimately four. This eerie fusion transforms reality into a bewildering enigma where the line between the tangible and the world of fiction blurs and distorts. It's a descent into uncertainty where the very fabric of existence unravels.
In this gripping convergence, reality morphs into a distorted canvas upon which fiction, memories, and dreams are painted in eerie strokes, giving birth to a haunting tapestry of unyielding suspense.
The convergence isn't a mere coincidence but rather a horrifying aberration in reality, a defiance of the natural order. It stands as a nightmarish reality, a stark reminder of what should never occur.
The clash of these opposing realms gives rise to an eerie, incomprehensible existence. As reality and fiction entwine, they unleash a monstrous, unified reality, where the rules of both worlds become a bewildering maze of twisted possibilities.
It's a chilling spectacle where the boundaries of fiction and fact dissolve, and the bizarre becomes commonplace. This anomaly, this unsettling disruption, is a testament to the boundless depths of human imagination, eternally distorting the perception of what is real and what is a suspenseful nightmare.
As Sansa gradually woke up, the first sensation that washed over her was an excruciating burning pain. It was as if scalding water had been poured over her back, searing from the base of her neck down to her lower back. The intensity of the agony was almost overwhelming, yet she gritted her teeth and made no sound. Since the day of the massacre, she had never screamed or cried out in pain, nor would she let any other emotion coax tears from her eyes.
Gradually, she summoned the strength to open her eyes, her vision blurred by the remnants of pain. Before her eyes came into focus, a vivid yellow haze enveloped her senses, accompanied by the sweet, familiar scent of pollen. She found herself amidst a patch of bright yellow flowers, their fragrance mirroring that of the blue flower field, a curious and disorienting likeness.
Sansa hazarded a guess that her perception might be playing tricks on her due to the intense pain she endured. The world around her seemed surreal. As her vision cleared, she could discern a rapid approach of blurs. One was tinted blue. An off-white and purple blur trailed behind them, and Sansa braced herself for what approached.
A gentle voice rang out, filled with concern and alarm. "Oh dear! This is—oh my. Child... Frisk, I need to get her to my home so that I can heal her. I need you to stay here until I return. Please, stay here and stay safe!" Arms encircled Sansa with utmost care, taking precautions to avoid her exposed and wounded back. The awkwardness of her position made Sansa feel like a burden, but the searing pain left her incapable of moving, so she yielded to the lady's assistance.
Sansa found herself being carried, her mysterious savior guiding her toward an uncertain destination. As her surroundings shifted and the world blurred around her, she couldn't help but wonder about the identity of this blurry stranger and the home they spoke of. The scent of the damp air was familiar, it smelled like the underground, the ruins to be exact and yet the walls were a strong dark mauve stone and brick rather than made of mostly rusted metals, crumbling concrete and chipped plaster.
The blurred scene transitioned as Sansa blinked, and suddenly, she found herself in an entirely different place. It dawned upon her that she must have been in shock, as she had passed out during the journey to wherever the lady was taking her. The woman's voice, though soothing, seemed distant and incomprehensible to Sansa. At that moment, her primary focus was on something as fundamental as breathing and the desperate need to alleviate the pain that continued to gnaw at her.
"We are almost there, child. Please don't fall back asle–" The woman's voice, soft and comforting, wrapped around Sansa like a warm embrace. She couldn't quite grasp why this stranger's voice had such a calming effect, and despite her best efforts, Sansa's eyelids grew heavy. Oblivion beckoned, and she surrendered to its gentle embrace once more.
Groaning softly, Sansa opened her eyes, and the world slowly came into focus. She found herself lying on a soft bed, her body positioned facedown on top of fluffy covers. The familiar itch of gauze and bindings wrapped around her torso and back immediately caught her attention. Her sweater was gone, replaced by these medical coverings, and she still wore her shorts, but everything else, including her brass knuckles, had vanished. She held little hope of recovering them.
As Sansa took in her surroundings, she noticed a child in front of her. The youngster, seemingly around ten years old, wore a dark blue sweater adorned with stripes, along with shorts and sneakers. The child's tan complexion and dark brown hair, styled similarly to Sansa's own, sparked a sense of curiosity. The child's smile and small wave added to Sansa's confusion, and before she could gather her thoughts, the young one darted out of the room, leaving Sansa alone in this place.
Before she knew it, the door swung open, and the child reappeared, this time accompanied by another figure. The newcomer at the door jolted Sansa, and before anyone could react, a surge of instinct and desperation propelled her into action. In an instant, she was on her feet, snapping her fingers to turn the child's soul blue and pulling them towards her. Swiftly releasing the child behind her, she summoned a menacing, demonic bone wolf-like skull that crackled with gathering purple magical energy within its fearsome maw.
The goat monster's eyes widened in a mix of shock and fear, realizing the dire fate that awaited them in the form of instant dissolution. That's when the child, Frisk, sprang into action. They slammed into Sansa's back, causing her to release a deafening scream of pain as she was knocked to the floor. Her magic dissipated, leaving her vulnerable and shaken.
"No, stop! Toriel is nice!" Frisk practically screamed at the now trembling Sansa.
As Sansa struggled to regain her composure, Toriel, the monster woman, intervened. "I... I... Frisk, she is a mage, and she was trying to protect you from me. I am a monster, and she was doing her best to keep you safe. I... I should go wait in the living room. Please, tell her about me and that I mean no harm," Toriel spoke softly, her breaths coming in labored waves, before she retreated from the bedroom.
Sansa lay flat on the ground, her breaths labored, her pain evident. Frisk, the child, approached her and knelt down. They questioned her actions, puzzled by her defensive response to Toriel, the kind-hearted goat monster who had attempted to heal Sansa's injuries.
"Why did you react that way? I get that Miss Toriel isn't human, but she's nice, and she fixed your back somewhat with magic healing, like in video games. I've been dreaming about this place since I was ten. The dreams were always flashes of different things, like Toriel being crazy in one dream, wearing all black. In another, the caretaker was Asgore. But this one, the nice one, is the one I want to find out more about. There were other things in my dreams too, and I want to understand why I have them," Frisk muttered, their tone a mix of anger and frustration.
Sansa listened attentively, her own experiences with dreams resonating with Frisk's words. "Dreams... are said to be windows to alternate realities," she replied softly, groaning as she lifted herself off the floor. "I've had dreams where monsters were underground and humans won the war... and it appears I'm in that reality now. Anyway, my name is Sansa," she introduced herself, offering a slight wave before laying back on the bed on her stomach.
"So... you're from a world where humans went underground?" Frisk asked, sitting on the floor, her legs drawn up to her chest, leaning against the bed. Sansa nodded in confirmation before beginning to share her story.
"I was maybe five when the humans lost the war, and we had to flee underground. Both my parents died because of it—my dad at the beginning of the war, and my mom died giving her life to seal the underground with the six other mages," Sansa mumbled, her gaze fixed on the entranced Frisk. The child's curiosity urged her to continue.
"My mom entrusted my younger sister and me to a friend and fellow mage. At first, the underground was just a cramped bunker with a little over a thousand people. But we began to expand, and the first thing we came across was an underground pocket filled with trees and snow. That's where the first city was built," Sansa recalled with a smile, her memories transporting her back to the moment she and her little sister had first beheld the expansive snowy field.
"Snow City, or as it was known, the Frost Capital, was the first of many major cities that began to spring up," Sansa continued, her voice carrying the weight of nostalgia. "But then came the first problem. The generator in the bunker couldn't support that many people and homes, so expansion was put on hold. That's when the people came up with a solution – the Core. It was a thermonuclear generator powered by magma, magic, and coolant. With the Core, the expansion resumed. People were happy, more and more children were born, and a central government was established to maintain law and order. It was probably the most prosperous time we had experienced since being locked in the underground," she explained, her eyes closing as she recalled the towering, windowless buildings of Snow City.
Frisk's curiosity burned brighter, and they eagerly asked, "What happened then?" The child's fascination with the history of Sansa's world was palpable, prompting Sansa to delve deeper into her past.
"The first monster fell into the underground," Sansa began, her voice tinged with somber memories. She glanced briefly at the door, where she sensed Toriel's presence, listening intently.
"Because of my lineage... being the descendant of an ancient, I age slowly, a lot slower than an average human," Sansa explained. "Around sixty years after the seal was put in place, the first monster fell into the underground and managed to rampage through the old bunker and into Snow City. My sister and I were playing near the bunker door when it suddenly opened."
Sansa's recollection grew darker as she continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "This monster was wolf-like, deranged, and high on the thrill of killing the humans that still lived in the bunker. He didn't consume their souls because, as he said, 'they didn't suit his needs.' He wanted a soul made of pure Determination, and the only ones like that were my mentor's and my little sister's."
Sansa paused, her gaze fixed on Frisk, who watched with wide eyes, comprehension dawning on the child's face. It struck Sansa that the humans in Frisk's reality might be desensitized to violence, a disconcerting thought for a child from an era of peace and a world where humans roamed freely, sheltered from such horrors. The stark difference in their experiences weighed heavily on her.
Summoning her strength, Sansa continued, the memories still haunting her. "The wolf monster began berating us as humans, calling us weak," she recounted, her voice quiet. "He kicked me into a tree, breaking four of my ribs and rendering me unconscious from the agony. When I finally came to, my little sister, Peony, was dead, and the entire city was in chaos, being torn apart by this crazed monster. I don't recall the details, but the next thing I knew, I was standing before the wolf, and my magic had blasted a hole through his soul."
Frisk gasped softly, their emotions a whirlwind of shock, amazement, and a touch of fear. Sansa noticed the child's reaction and offered a faint, reassuring smile. "Relax, kid," she said gently. "The monsters in my reality can be dangerous... and that Toriel lady seems... nice, I guess. I've never been around a nice monster, so I overreacted. Anyway, after I dusted the monster, my mentor showed up, but I don't really remember what happened next. The month following the incident is just a haze of blurry memories and things I'd rather forget."
Sansa's smile faded as she delved into the aftermath of that fateful day. "People started to treat me differently after that, not with pity for my sister or sympathy, but they saw me as a monster in human skin. The last of the living mages faced a similar fate. Magic... it was considered dangerous at that point," she added, her voice tinged with sadness. The consequences of her actions had far-reaching effects, reshaping the perception of magic and those who wielded it in her world.
"Bans were put in place," Sansa continued, her voice heavy with the weight of her world's history. "No magic was to be used in populated areas. Then, the bans were extended even further, prohibiting Mages from entering cities. They introduced the Magic Branding, which prevented Mages from using their magic around normal people. It was a nightmare for the six mages that were left."
Sansa's narrative grew darker as she recounted the tragic fates of her fellow Mages. "Three of the Mages died from a lack of medical care, one committed suicide, and my mentor decided to delve into the sciences more and more, becoming a recluse. The last Mage sealed away his own magic and became a vendor, the last I heard."
She lifted her arm, revealing a vague, scarred outline of something swirly etched onto her skin. "They tried to brand me too," Sansa admitted, her tone somber. "But my magic works differently, likely due to my lineage, so the brand rubbed away after a week. I'd explain more, but to be honest, I'm not entirely sure how my magic functions."
Sansa's weariness had finally caught up with her, and she felt the need for rest to heal her aching body. She closed her eyes and sighed, realizing that it would be best if Prophet were around to heal her back, but Toriel, the goat monster lady, was likely the best help available at the moment.
"Frisk... when I fall asleep, can you tell Toriel to heal my back?" she asked, her voice soft with exhaustion. "Don't think she wants to be near me after I nearly dusted her." Frisk responded with a quiet confirmation, and Sansa allowed the weariness to pull her into slumber.
Somewhere in a distant section of the underground, beyond the reach of conventional access, lay a vast pool of brilliant blue liquid. Within it, a man clad in a lab coat sprawled unconscious, his lanky form submerged in the shallow pool of coolant. At first glance, he appeared lifeless.
Then, a faint, metallic groan echoed in the distance, stirring the dormant man. He jolted awake, flailing about in the pool of coolant. Blue liquid spewed from his mouth and nose as if his body instinctively rejected the fluid, as though he had waterproofed his lungs—which, to be fair, he had.
Once he expelled the last of the liquid, he took a deep breath, confusion and bewilderment etched across his features. "The Fuck?!"
Again, go fucking read my other stories if you don't like this, it wasn't fucking meant for snowflakes anyway.
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