Chapter Text
{Once upon a time, two races ruled the Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS.}
{One day they all disappeared without a trace.}
Vanishing petals of memories. Shreds of reality, slowly fading away on a nonexistent wind. The world vanished, leaving behind only specks of the past. They too would soon be swallowed by the abyss.
Empty eyes staring into nowhere. Richard sat on the smooth plank of the pier with his legs hanging down. It might have been cold. Not that it meant anything - the moth couldn't have felt it anyway. Void reigned in him. It suppressed the mind, reaching into the farthest corners of the soul; it subjugated the body, consuming myriads of nerves and turning them into nothing. All that remained of Richard was his pale shell.
Beside him stood a monster doomed to wander forever in stagnation. Its skin had long since faded, its pale scales losing all color as they blended into one another. Eyes that had seen nihility were forever blinded. Though they weren't needed anyway. The monster sat beside Richard, staring off into the distance.
A human, whose memory remained only in the far corners of existence, stood in front of an abominable, self-proclaimed deity that had grown to colossal proportions. A bright screen mimicking a face. Flasks with strangers' hearts: souls that replaced his own. Even the body was a pathetic mockery, a parody of life: emerald vines growing out of nowhere, coming together to form a misshapen, horrible creature. It swept a clawed paw through the air, trying to scare the human. The fake mouth of the abomination froze in a soundless laughter.
- Where are we? - Richard couldn't hear his own voice. It was as if the words were stuck in his throat. But despite that, he got an answer. Alien speech echoed in his mind.
- We don't exist. We can't be anywhere. A world where you don't exist is the same as if there is no world left for you. The same fate awaits you. - Goner kid did not move its lips, yet its voice sounded firm.
- But... they are real. I can see them, so is there something left?
Monstrosity pursued the human, hovering above them. A multitude of sharp leaves, flesh-eating flies, and massive, long vines - everything that remained from the past was now trying to kill its last inhabitant.
- They are nobody. Neither are we. There is not a shred of meaning in their battle. The world itself has been erased without a trace, yet they continue to fight. No one remembers who they are. No one will remember later, because “later” will never come. But... That doesn't stop them. Two nameless phantoms colliding on the edge of a non-existent world, fighting for less than nothing. Their fate has already been lost to time without a trace.
- But... But I remember this human! Their name is... - Richard cast his eyes downward, trying to recall the name. He knew that this human was very important to him, that they must have spent a lot of time together... Hadn't they? Why couldn't he remember anything about them, not even a face or a name... Who was this stranger?
- Don't think about it too much. The world is destroyed. Without it, memories can't hold on to anything and fade away too. Soon you too will forget your past.
Richard returned his gaze to the battle going on in the distance. The human's face seemed to have turned into an impermanent mare. Mouth, nose, eyes, all blended together like leaves on water. Like a... corrupted image. He slid his hand under the wing, searching for something. Fingers running along his belt, he suddenly came across a familiar object. With surprise, the Reaper pulled out his mask. A meaningless artifact in a defunct realm. Its rough surface brought back memories... Richard ran his fingers over it, feeling the small cracks.
-
Golden tears sullenly glistened in the light of crystals. Another Reaper passed the race to the next generation, joining the countless particles of ashes embedded in the magic stone of the mask. Richard ran his hand over it, feeling only smoothness and cold. Warm tears slowly dripped off his chin and flowed downward, crashing against the lifeless stone. Brushing the tears off the mask with the palm of his hand, he clutched it tightly in his hands.
- Father...
A gentle hand lay on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. Callisto stood beside him, looking sorrowfully at the moth. Alas, no matter how much her heart ached, Angel could not help with the pain of loss. She could only watch.
- I'm sorry you had to witness this... - Richard sobbed, wiping his wet eyes. - This is why I didn't want you to come here...
- You have nothing to apologize for. - Callisto sat down next to him, looking at his sad face with concern. - It's tough, yes... But I'll always be with you. Together we can help those who can still be helped. I promise.
Callisto's arms wrapped around Richard in a hug. A red blush flooded her cheeks as she realized exactly what she'd said. It only made her embrace tighter, though. Richard pulled her against him tiredly, resting his forehead against her furry shoulder.
There was so much he wanted to say in that moment, but he didn't. Repeatedly he thought back to that day, with pity and anger. If he had spoken up then, maybe things could have been different. They could have been happy for a little longer. And maybe, just maybe... the time for one last hug would never have come?
Richard pressed Callisto closer, but all he felt was ashes sliding down his arms.
Ah.
Right.
-
A lone tear ran down Richard's cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, staring in surprise at the wet trace left on his palm. He seemed to remember someone who had been very close to him... However, as soon as he tried to do it again, his mind simply returned a blank slate. Only a plain name hovered in his mind.
- Callisto...
Moth's eyes returned to the battle unfolding below. The god-awful fabrication mercilessly showered the human with attacks. Dozens of bombs silently tore the air around their target, tossing it around like a miserable puppet. But they kept getting back on their feet. The bloodthirsty jaws of artificial plants clung to their arms and legs. But human kept getting back on their feet. They wanted to triumph. They were filled with DETERMINATION.
Suddenly, everything came to a halt. One of the outlandish brat's hearts began to beat in unison with the human's. It seemed as if the whole world had stopped for them. A silent dialogue between people none could remember. Richard's vision was obscured by a light the color of turquoise.
-
Fever. Pain rippled through the moth's body in waves. Sweat poured from his face, leaving wet trails on his fur, while his lips were frantically spewing out fragments of words. Inflammation from his failed swim in the icy water had knocked him flat and now, all he could do was wait for Callisto. The pain throbbing throughout his body and the heat melting his nerves still managed to drag him to sleep.
The raging ocean of pain slowly receded, leaving only the ragged shore of consciousness. Angel's hands glided lightly over Richard's body, sending healing magic to the deepest corners of his limbs. There was worry in Callisto's eyes, but her gentle palms continued to draw patterns on the moth's skin. The sensation of each touch hung briefly in his mind, leaving him blissfully relieved. Shaking with weakness, Richard opened his eyes.
- Than...Thank you... - A faint smile spread across the moth's face. He placed his palm over Callisto's palm as if to say he was fine. - I knew I shouldn't have gotten into the icy water....
- Why did you even... - Butterfly's gaze fell on the dark, scarlet stain that had settled on Richard's forearm. A hard crust covered the moth's clumped fluff. - What's that?
- It's blood. - Richard put his hands under himself for support and sat up in bed, leaning his back against its edge. - The king had gotten the first soul. Six more and we can finally get out of here. Though...
A memory appeared before the Reaper's eyes. A faceless bundle of thread and his hands covered in blood. For a second, it seemed to him that the blood was turning to ashes....
- Nothing.
Callisto bent over the moth's body, trying unsuccessfully to scrub away the bloodstain. Sighing, she playfully pinched his side.
- Why are you so sloppy... - She moved away from the bed slightly, allowing Richard to get to his feet. - Come on. We need to get this all the way off of you.
- Maybe we can stop by the hot springs then, too. - Moth's arms wrapped around Callisto's waist. From bottom to top, he looked into her eyes. A warm smile spread across the butterfly's face, emphasized by a blush.
- Of course.
Delicate strands slipped from Richard's wrists and wrapped around Callisto's shoulders. Closing his eyes, he pulled them toward him, leaning the butterfly for a kiss. The next second, however, all he could feel was the painful touch of ashes, seeping down from above.
“How could I forget?”
-
Artificial face on the screen wriggled in pain: limbs woven from hundreds of crude vines trembled, and agitation was evident in every attack. The great mechanism had come into action, but its purpose was not yet clear.
Strike.
Richard's heart beat in unison with the souls of the humans that were now whirling in a deadly dance below. For a moment, a ray of light flashed in the moth's empty eyes, as if it had remembered something important.
- Amazing. Their souls hold such power... Even now, when all their friends and comrades are dead... no, wiped out - they still continue to remember them.
Richard looked at the Goner kid in surprise. It seemed like they were about to cry.
- It certainly doesn't compare to real life... more like marvelous dreams. If they suddenly remembered you, you would see your memories as reveries swiftly flying away from you. - The monster kid hung their head down, hiding their accumulated sorrow. - And yet... How I wish I could be part of those dreams....
Strike.
With a fiery glare, another soul hammered in unison, pulling Richard's dreams into reality. A familiar light appeared in his eyes.
-
A tart odor of burnt fur and melted chitin wafted through the air, mingling with the cloying scent of herbs. The fluff on Richard's palms clung together from the leaves and healing elixirs that had been ground into salve. Callisto was lying unconscious on her stomach as he worked her wings with his careful movements. A reaper was unfamiliar with trying to help someone on his own, however... He couldn't afford to just stand by and do nothing.
The dark, burnt edges stood out starkly against the bright orange patterns of her wings. Moth applied another layer of ointment, hiding the black, painful marks beneath the hand-made serum. Callisto shuddered reflexively at each of his touches, feeling the cold fingers on her inflamed wounds.
Setting aside the cup with the rest of the medicine, Richard leaned back in his chair, sighing heavily. It was the first time he'd ever done anything like this, so all he could do was pray that the remedy would work. After all, he'd made it himself, too.
- I hope I got the right recipe. Damn it... - Richard closed his eyes with the back of his palm, which was clean of the salve.
The horrifying scene flashed through his mind again. The narrow corridor, the open doors to the control room. Callisto trying to save the scientist... And the pillar of flame erupting from the Core's maw. Fear shot through the moth, causing him to bend over the wounded Angel once more and frantically inspect every part of her back, checking to see if he'd missed anything.
Gaping holes in the wings, scorched fur... Whatever he could find, he'd already treated. The moth exhaled tiredly and, with a weak gait, headed for the bathroom.
The icy water was invigorating, quickly bringing his senses back. The ointment embedded in the down was hardening, allowing its residue to be peeled off in layers. After a time filled with fiddling with the mirror and pulling out bits of fluff along with the solid medicine, moth stared at his reflection.
There was ash visible in the lush pillow of fur nestled around his neck. The fluff on his forehead was slightly melted, glued together in rough lumps. His shoulders were darkened with soot marks, left there by Callisto's unconscious shudders in his arms on the way home. Her palms, on the other hand, were stained from her numerous attempts to open the mechanical shutters of the doors before they swung open on their own.
Richard washed his face, watching the water running down his cheeks as it pooled in the fur on his chin. Shaking off the excess drops and the ash that remained, moth closed the faucet and headed back upstairs. Callisto was still asleep, however it seemed to him that her face had become more... relaxed?
Moth smiled. Kissing Callisto on the cheek, he gently covered her with the blanket, being careful not to drag it over the burned areas. Shifting the picture of Angel's peaceful face, a different image suddenly appeared before Richard's eyes. The face of a human whose lips were scorched by raging flames. Melted hair protruded roughly to the sides, as if frozen in a chaotic dance. The fire branded his body, leaving countless burns on it. However, for all that... A smile emerged on his cold, hardened lips.
Rushing into the flames, trying to save someone they don't know. Without a glimpse into the future and without turning back. To put a life on the line, snatching another's from the hands of death... Except the human had lost in that fight. And Callisto barely survived, unable to hold on to the one she wanted to save. Fate had taken the lives of its victims in a tight grip. And the human, with the help of his bravery, was able to snatch one of them away...leaving his own in return.
Richard stroked Callisto's head, watching her peaceful sleep. When he looked at his palm, horror struck him: it was darkened with ashes. Only a pile of dust was before him, covered by a blanket.
“After all...”
-
The moth's heart was beating in unison with those who are still able to fight. Those who had survived the end of this world and would give their best for the birth of a new one. The souls of humans shone brightly in the primordial darkness of nihility, as if lighting the way forward. Little beacons of hope.
Each of them left an everlasting mark on the world of the past, imprinted in the minds of many for eternity. And though the waves of the void erased their efforts, the two lone watchers remembered their deeds. Albeit barely.
Richard's eyes returned to the lively gleam that seemed to contain the memories within, preventing them from fading into the vast darkness. Moth rose to his feet, holding out his hand to the pale monster.
- You don't have to stay here forever. I'm sure there are humans who will want to talk to you. After all, your broth-
- Silence. - Goner kid was still sitting there with their head down. - You don't understand. This world works just fine without me. Everyone's happy without my voice, my face in family photos, or my help. It could all go down the drain if I tried to come back. And I don't even know if I can do it...
- But... - Richard didn't finish his sentence before his companion turned to face him. Their eyes were still empty, but it seemed to him that they were full of anger.
- You've got your memory back, and you're already willing to risk everything and jump into a world that doesn't even exist yet. You don't know who I am, you don't remember your whole life. Other people's dreams have clouded your eyes and you won't admit it!
Strike.
Moth shuddered. Heartbeat sent a mixture of pain and shivers throughout his body. Richard clutched his chest, staggering on the edge of the precipice. Confused, he cast his gaze toward the souls of the humans. In time to see the bright light of deep blue blinding him.
-
The basement room was flooded with darkness, occasionally illuminated by flashes of purple threads striking the wood. Reaper was carving another coffin, absorbed entirely in his work. His mind was empty of other thoughts, and a mask grimly shone on his face. The darkness made it impossible to see, but beneath the traces of golden tears on his mask, the darkened paths of the real ones were visible.
Another flash illuminated the body of a human lying in the far corner for a second. Reaper did not say a word, continuing to chip the unyielding wood.
Strike. Charred marks from the lasers passed through the flesh showed.
Strike. The ashes on his feet lit up with a violet flash.
Strike. An image of deathly horror showed on the frozen face.
Strike. Strike. Strike. Strike. Strike.
Richard lashed the wood in silent anger, leaving a deep mark on its smooth surface. The moth's arms fell helplessly to his sides, and the limp threads were left lying on the floor, glowing dimly in the darkness. Their light only illuminated Richard's tears, which had accumulated on his chin.
His eyes kept flashing back to that moment. Callisto lying on the ground, writhing in pain. The human had fled to Hotland as soon as she had seen the glint of sickles. Crouching over the shivering body, Richard searched in a hurry for something to ease the pain. Vials of liquid, various powders... It was all useless. He could only watch his beloved crumble to ashes in his arms.
“She is long gone.”
-
Tears streamed down his cheeks. One by one, they left a wet trail on his furry skin before drifting down into the bottomless abyss. Richard's eyes were still clouded with memories as he stood motionless on the edge of the pier, staring into the distance. Slowly, as if in a dream, his hand wiped the tears from his face.
A false deity and an angel that descended from the surface. The souls of humans beat against the glass in furious fervor, hearing the call of their kin. The beating of their hearts resonated loudly in the middle of the void, shaking the last bits of reality scattered everywhere. Richard shook his head, feeling the pounding of his own heart tearing from his chest.
Strike.
The monster kid sat in silence. Long stripped of their soul, they were doomed to exist here. There was no past, and there would never be a future. The embodiment of the void itself. A light hand suddenly landed on their shoulder, sending a small shiver through their entire body.
- To see beautiful dreams, to enjoy their colors, you must first experience them. I know you want that, too. Come with me. - The moth pulled back his wing a little. - You've done this before, haven't you?
On Richard's belt hung a totem made of wood that gave off a pale silver color. It seemed to shimmer slightly. A sad smile distorted the face of the monster kid.
- Haha... - Moth's palm slipped off his shoulder as if it had been removed by someone else's hand. - I'm sorry, I really can't... If I leave this world of dreams, it will take someone else. I don't want to start a new life just to erase someone else's. I don't want to create a new world if someone else won't exist in it.
Strike.
The shackled souls gathered around the angel, giving them wings. Rainbow light shimmered brightly in the darkness, destroying it from within. The handmade abomination wriggled in pain, unable to believe that its falsehood had been destroyed. Truth always finds its way out. Mere illusions or cages cannot hold it. Soon, this greedy wretch, this mockery of a god would be turned back to its true form.
Bright colors flooded the void, reaching also to the collapsed bridge on which Richard stood. The totem on his belt crackled quietly, forming new patterns. Forever closed eyes.
Sighing heavily, Richard stepped away from the monster. A faint chuckle escaped his lips, taking the sad thoughts with it. Turning to face his companion one last time, he stood at the edge of the mottling abyss.
- Well... Good night then, friend. - Richard took a step back. - I have had enough of dreams.
“I remembered for whom I must awaken.”
Myriad fragments of reality whizzed past him on the way down. Like pieces of a large jigsaw puzzle they came together, rebuilding a picture of the world. The welcoming whisper of the Ruins, calling to talk. The friendly houses of Snowdin, each ready to welcome and help a traveler. The lovely silence of Waterfall, giving comfort and tranquility. The lively fiddling of Hotland, signaling life and the movement of progress. The measured pace of New Home, where monsters keep the old values while marching into a new future.
The world drifted away from his eyes as the Reaper continued to fall into the abyss. With a deep exhale, he cleared his mind. He trusted in the unknown that awaited him ahead.
Suddenly, his fall stopped. The moth hovered in place in absolute nothingness, and in front of him stood... himself. Richard stared at his copy in wonder, bowing his head. It repeated after him. The moth slowly extended its pale hand forward, to which its reflection did the same. Their fingers made contact.
...
...
...
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