Chapter Text
The player congratulated himself as he finished the scenario, it'd taken a lot of quickloading, but he'd managed to keep all his men alive.
And so, he clicked on the button to finish and proceed to the next mission.
...
The Player was getting impatient, it never took this long to load, it had been almost five minutes. He'd worried that it had frozen, but a bit of waiting had shown that the bar was moving. Albeit at a snail's pace.
With a huff, the Player stood and decided to get himself a drink.
One packet of pink lemonade, and one bottle of water later, the Player was swigging his cold drink as he stepped back to his computer. Thankfully it seems to have finished loading.
When the Player did look at said screen, he began to choke and cough on his drink. Small droplets of lemonade dampening his shirt as he fought for air.
After a moment had passed, he'd coughed his airways open and had taken several deep breathes to compensate.
He rubbed his eyes as, despite his glasses and the fact it was right in front of him, he could not comprehend what he was seeing.
It was a patch of golden flowers, a familiar patch of golden flowers.
And in the middle of that patch of flowers, was a small child.
Frisk.
What did not make sense however, was the General standing next to them.
HP: 60/60 XP:217/250 Abilities: Leadership
His General. Nor that it was that the environment was also in a Hex based grid.
The Player slowly set down his lemonade, he slowly dragged his cursor over his Leader. Then he right-clicked.
It seems he could recall some of his Veterans.
Two clicks and a Longbowman and a Halberdier popped into existence besides the General.
HP: 55/55 XP: 75/90
HP: 80/80 XP: 201/250
Nice. Now he just had to start his turn-
Did Frisk just move.
Did Frisk just move out of turn!?