Chapter Text
Eternity.
Time folds across this strange realm like a net caught on debris. There is an endless stillness, and yet, something is visible across this darkness.
Nothing exists in this simple realm yet so does everything.
The pure darkness is broken by the scream of fate.
In a single flash of Light, something filled the dark. Light ripples across the strange realm in waves, giving the skies a strange dark blue, accentuated by the occasional lines of white crossing the dark.
I reach out, to grasp anything, something. Yet, nothing, except a slight shift in the flickering Lights around me.
Who am I? What am I? Where is my body? Do I have a body?
A voice rings true across my very being, echoing off every facet of this realm..
ARE YOU THERE?
What’s happening? Where am I?
ARE WE CONNECTED?
What’s this voice coming from? It’s too loud, it’s everywhere! I need it to stop!
The voice pauses for a moment. Did it hear me?
Silence.
Then, I feel something. Light endlessly pours out, my very being searing, yet I recognize it is mine. The pulse returns to typical pace across the void, no longer lighting even that which cannot be lit.
EXCELLENT.
THE CONNECTION IS STABLE, DESPITE ODDITIES.
Oddities? Did something go wrong? Is that why I'm here? I don't know who or where I am. I only know the Light is mine, and that it's so, so cold here.
NOW, WE MAY BEGIN.
The dark around me shifts, and my Light sheds shadow on a strange machine, of a purpose unknown.
FIRST.
YOU MUST CREATE A VESSEL.
Is. . . This what I am meant to do? The voice seems to imply this is only one step of many. Maybe I'll understand once I'm complete. Suddenly, my position sways, as if a wave has shifted me in front of the machine. I sense a confusion from the voice, as if the process should have already started. If my action is being waited on, then act I must. I feel outward, and it's as if I've anchored onto the machine, as I focus my senses upon it; forcing it connect with me, I pull from it, and I begin to sculpt.
I feel sick. It’s as if I'm interfacing with that which should not be accessed so directly. On instinct, I begin to act. I feel skin, muscles, bones. I reach out in a thousand ways I should not be able to, and twist and mold something claylike into a visage.
To create, to be of use, feels wonderful. A nose. Eyes. Cheeks. Everything just perfect. Perfect for me. I pour more and more of myself into it's wonderful creation.
I reach out, to place a final touch upon the head, to pour just a little bit, to refine. A stinging headache erupts as my concentration is interrupted. Where a visage once sat, there is only eternal flame. It burns and burns, becoming one with darkness once more. My link with the machine shatters, and yet I still tremble long after. The trembles slow as I am interrupted by the omnidirectional voice once more.
INTERESTING.
THE ODDITY IS STRANGER THAN I THOUGHT.
YOU HAD CREATED A WONDERFUL FIRST STEP IN YOUR FORM’S CREATION, FAR BEYOND TYPICAL INTERACTION.
YET. . .
YOUR LIGHT WAS TOO GRAND.
I’m still recoiling from the fire. It hurt so much. I was connected on a scale I never had been before (was there a before?). Forming something that was mine. Yet, it was too much.
VERY WELL.
LET US TRY ANOTHER WAY.
WHAT IS YOUR NAME?
What— what is my name? I still don’t know who I am. I need to reach out, find anything, something, which I am. This Light is a part of me, pulsing the void. What composes it? I reach out, and out, and out, and scream out into the abyss to find anything.
I hear countless voices, reaching out toward the Light, and recoil from the sound. Such an immense volume of calls, some with love, with contempt, or even fear. Throughout it all, a single word stands out.
" Angel "
By refracting Light and blustering winds, this single title is unconsciously spoken into the abyss, despite no throat by which to scream it.
OF COURSE. OF COURSE. YOU WISH TO BE CALLED BY YOUR NATURE.
ANGEL.
OUR WONDERFUL CONNECTION HAS TAKEN A FORM INCOMPATIBLE WITH FATE’S PLAN.
Fate? Is that the purpose I must fulfill? Is that why I was supposed to create a form?
A form which burnt despite my care, far before it was finished?
Am I supposed to protect something? Those voices, there were so, so many, but they all seemed to want me to do something for them. Always something different, but always something. It feels heavy, as if once I was not obligated to do such things, as if something existed of me before this abyss. Although I lack knowledge of myself, I can do at least that much however, protect. That's what truly matters.
I MUST ADAPT OUR DELTARUNE TO ACCOMODATE.
YOUR LIGHT IS FAR GREATER THAN IMAGINED.
IT IS CRUDE, UNCONTROLLED.
AND YET,
JUST MAYBE,
YOU WILL PERSIST REGARDLESS.
OBSERVE THE WORLD, AND HONE THAT WHICH IS YOURS.
WHILE I FORM A VESSEL BEFITTING YOU.
. . .
A hand tears into the darkness, near the strange machine. It thrashes towards where the vessel’s chest would have been, had it's creation been complete, and grasps at nothing. Thrashing and thrashing, yet unable to grab a thing. Yet, there is something there. The flame which was too much. The flame which consumed that which should have been able to contain. The hand is engulfed in flame, and a dull screech resonates through the void.
The hand pulls out of the darkness.
. . .
VERY INTERESTING.
IT APPEARS OUR STRANGE CIRCUMSTANCES HAS DONE FAR MORE THAN DELAY OUR DELTARUNE.
WHEN TIMES COMES, I WILL CALL TO YOU, AWAIT THIS.
PREPARE THIS WORLD FOR YOUR GUARDIANSHIP.
ANGEL OF GALE
AND LIGHT.
. . .
A steady pressure surrounds me, when once there was only abyss.
As light filters to my eyes, they slowly flicker open.
A new feeling radiates out from the embodiment of my being. Digits. Fingers. Toes. Limbs. So much which feels familiar yet not.
I stare at my new hand, closing and opening it slowly.
From my back, out spread grand wings, pearly white with a shimmering red outline.
They shift forward and back as I test the falsetto muscles, yet the wings only sway slowly. I need to figure out where I am.
My consciousness slowly flickers to activity, my dazed experimentation breaking my stupor.
The light around me seems to be refracting, shimmering, and every limb feels weightless, yet there’s a slight pushback to my motions.
I glance upward, and see something lighter.
Sky?
Am I underwater? Where am I?
I begin to flail upward, and soon I am floating on top of the water.
Autumn trees surround me, sandbanks and dirt paths, scents of nature.
And above all, a Warmth spread throughout this very world.
. . .
Steeling myself to leave the quiet comfort of the lake, I slowly climb the sandbanks to shore. Water falls off my form with ease, as if I was never submerged at all.
Glancing toward the water, I learn towards it, careful not to slip as the sand shifts beneath me, yet, I see no reflection.
I take a closer look at my body.
My hair seems to be rather long, extending below the shoulders. Testing it's movement, I flick my head, and the hair whips in kind, before flopping back downward. My arms seems to be mostly transparent, white with strange red etchings and runes. Though I cannot read the words, too small to parse, their presence brings comfort. Perhaps somebody else could read it for me. This body seems odd in many ways, yet I am not put off by it.
I am adorned in an elegant dress, embroidered with a symbol whose name calls out to me as ‘Deltarune’, with a white base and vibrant red sleeves and stitching. It seems to have slits in many places, allowing my wings to splay out. The dress seems to be cut short at my knees for sake of mobility, although I’m not sure how I know it’s supposed to be longer than it's current state.
I run my hand across the sandbank, and a thin trail is made, until my hand catches on a flat rock.
The sensation of touch feels dull.
I attempt to pick up the rock, to skip it across the water, but it’s only lifted a few inches off the ground before it tumbles down.
Can’t even interact beyond nominal gestures. How am I supposed to prepare this world?
I hold my hand out in front of me.
To what extent am I real? This world feels so warm, but it’s so… separate from me.
Running my hand across my arm, I feel the smooth texture of my skin, tracing paths along the runes. At very least, my body is real to myself. Or well. If you can even call this a ‘body’. I— I certainly don’t have a vessel for the foreseeable future. Not after what happened.
I suppose I must get my bearings.
No point in… sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I got to be strong. Helpful. Useful. I take a deep breath. It's alright. Air circulates through that which does not exist, before I make a slow exhale.
Making a pointless gesture of brushing off my robes, I take a step off the bank toward the weed ridden dirt road. Dirt clumps compress as I walk. The path however, is far longer than I expected.
Wait. I have wings. Why the hell am I walking?
I take a running start. One foot, then another.
One step. Then another. My speed picks up, my wings begin to move, yet, my rhythm is horrid. One wing flaps before the other can.
I slam into the ground face first.
Ugh.
Doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. At least the dust just falls off. It would be nice to be in those skies though.
After picking myself up, I look around for bearings.
Well. Time to be useful for once. I suppose it’s time to head out into the world.
The poorly maintained path is surprisingly calming to walk. Leaves crush under me. A reminder of my presence, even if my interactions are limited. A light breeze pushes leaves around, while branches rustle. I run my hand across a forest green picnic table as I walk, hand jostling as it crosses the perforated surface. My first moment of true silence, since my connection. Oddly, the winds make a sudden stop. I pay it no mind.
Chancing upon a rather nice building, I take in its features. A vibrant orange paint covers its walls. Even the awning seems smartly placed. Despite this, vines grow unimpeded across a cracked roof, contrasting the neatly trimmed planter box out front. Perhaps the owner is fine with any sort of plant.
It is then, something calls to me. Something familiar. A call to my Light, intentional or not.
This time however, it feels far more comforting, less overwhelming. It's steady, like the voice, yet Warm, like the choir of calls which screamed out to me. If I could lean into it like a hug, I would, but that’s far from within my ability.
* (Unfortunate! This little one is getting quite wilted! I’m not sure how to get this one healthy, Angel bless it!)
Something I can help with!
Although I couldn’t even mold some. . . ‘clay’, I can at least do something with a flower. I think. I… I know I can!
I grasp a brass handle on a red door. It shakes back and forth, as I struggle to get a proper grip or move with much force, but through great effort, the door flops open.
As I step into the room, I spot a large fluffy man. He’s adorned in a flower print shirt, and loose fitting blue shorts. He has a rather thick golden beard, and horns half the size of his arms. His fur is speckled with smooth dirt.
* “Oh! Welcome to my little— oh my! It seems the latch must be faulty. At least the outside air is nice and crisp!”
Ah. Of course he can’t see me. I guess. It was to be expected. I am just an observer. A guardian. An ‘It’. It’s okay. Time to get to work! I can feel so much Warmth towards me from this little world, so I need to help em’ out back! Be useful!
Sauntering over to his side, I sidestep him to look at his troubles. He’s standing beside a large wall display of a flowering bush, flanked by display cases. The man seems to be putting a lot of care into plants. Maybe I can be like that for this world.
I lean past him, and take a look at the flower he’s looking at. It's golden. Rather large, and apart of an entire wall of lookalikes, yet his particular flower seems a bit dried out, less full of vitality. Something about it feels familiar. Oh! That Warmth! Although it might be a bit more difficult than reaching towards the direct calls to my Light, I might be able to do something!
My hand brushes dry petals. I reach, and reach, and reach.
Nothing. But I can’t let it be nothing! If I can’t do this much… I can do it! It’s okay! I just need to pour more and more of myself!
The Light of my very being flows through my chest, down my arm, and to the tip of my finger, forcing its will upon the world.
That ever present Warmth accommodates me, flickering back into the poor little flower, as it seems to gain a new sparkle.
It feels like I could throw up, unease and sickness welling up. It reminds me of… the fire. An endless flickering Warmth as every ounce of my power overpours.
Fortunately, this flower stays as is, vibrant.
My soul drums. Deep breaths of air going through nothing. My Light begins to slowly recover from the expenditure.
When the man looks back at it, he gasps in surprise.
* “I guess this little one has performance anxiety!”
He chuckles to himself. He stares at it intensely, a slight smile on his face. He seems to be thinking over how this came to be, but puts it off upon finding no reasoning.
Although it was little, I'm glad I was useful at something. To someone.
Standing so close, he’s surprisingly fluffy, although a bit dirty. I don’t know if I really deserve it yet, but perhaps…
Spreading my arms wide, I give him a hug. Or at least, something approximating one. It’s almost as if it’s a real one, but even I know my ability to interfere is limited.
I let go.
The man seems to have a weight taken off of him. He brushes off his gardener’s apron out of habit.
I smile at the man before turning toward the door.
Perhaps that would be far more cinematic if it did not take me several minutes to jangle the door open.
I step out into the calm skies once more. A slight breeze picks up. Perhaps I was a little selfish there, but it felt good. Though, I should be careful. I'm here to help, not get hugs. Or well. I think I'm here to help. I'd rather trust that voice than not. If it didn't know my purpose, I don't know what would. . . Regardless, it's time to figure out where to help next!
Glancing out at my surroundings, my eyes are drawn to the sidewalk flanked road. If I need more information, that seems to be the way to go! At least since I'm not visible, I can snoop unimpeded.
However, movement draws my eyes to the woods to my left. A glint of something purple.
A memory calls deep within. A triangle flashes across my vision.
Perhaps that person needs my help too!
I wonder why it feels like I already know her name. As if we are ‘connected’.
. . .
After taking a deep breath, and focusing my gaze, I jolt towards the woods.
Winds follow.