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Despite how close they were, Tenna didn't even know Spamton was religious for four years of their previous relationship. Asking people why they were religious was generally considered a rude question, and Spamton refusing to say anything beyond “I don't want to be mocked for my beliefs” told him that whatever the reason, he didn’t want to share. And that was okay, he didn’t need to be nosy.

These days though, displaying his religious practices were pretty unavoidable. Saturdays were rough for Spamton since he was evicted from Queen’s mansion. Being as devout as he was to religion, not being able to go to the Sanctuary could be difficult. Especially with how desperately he needed the Angel following that dreaded phone call. The last time he had been was ten years prior, mere hours before he signed his contract with Tenna. Ever since then, he had been locked out of his little piece of heaven hidden away in the dark world.

 At first it was his benefactor preventing him from leaving the Cyber World. Then seven years later once he managed to free himself from his wretched grip, he was meant to go there with Ralsei to assist The Fun Gang in traversing the dark world and closing the fountains. It wasn't until they were right in front of the Basilica did he realize an ad blocker had been placed around the entire Dark World. 

On Saturdays, it wasn’t uncommon to see Spamton praying to the image of the Delta Rune carved into the courtyard. Today was no different. There Spamton knelt, his knees aching from the hard stone against his legs while Tenna stood watch nearby to ask darkners to be respectful if they needed to pass through. 

No matter how many times he stood watch, Tenna never got used to how much smaller this made Spamton look. Every time, he was completely hunched over and practically vanishing into the oversized velvet jacket he rarely took off. At certain angles he just looked like a black blob with tattered shoes. Was it his goal to be small? Something about surrendering yourself to the Angel? The TV just didn’t understand.

While Spamton prayed, neither of them expected a certain Yellow Addison to pass by. Blockton, as his namesake implied, mainly sold ad blocker subscriptions. He was the one that put the barrier around the Sanctuary seven years prior and didn’t do so much as tell Spamton about it until after it almost killed him.

Just as Tenna was about to turn him away, the Addison spoke.

“Spamton,” Blockton began, keeping his distance just in case anyone decided to be less than friendly, “Father Boom forgot to renew his coverage for my ad blockers. He probably won't get around to it for a few hours, so if you wanted to go visit the Sanctuary, now would be the time.”

Practically as soon as he said those words, Spamton grew alert. The curve of his back straightened, his hands hitting the ground with a clatter while he turned to look at his brother. His eyes, previously shut at tight as he could muster were now as wide open in shock and awe. The very idea that he could go back after ten years was exciting beyond words. As close as he came those few months ago, now it truly was in his grasp. Surely he had to go.

“I can delay the payment processing until you get back. Don't say I never did anything for you,” Blockton grumbled, letting out a small huff as he turned on his heels and walked away.  

This was great news, Spamton thought, what time was it? If he hurried, maybe he could make it before the noon service. Ralsei would be able to bring him over no problem, just fly him over, drop him off, pick him up a few hours later once mass was over. 

“Are you going to go?” Tenna asked, skipping in his step to try and catch up with Spamton. 

“[Cathode] this is the first time in [$10.99] years that I have the [Now's Your Chance To]. Of course I am,” Spamton responds, walking through the hall as quickly as he could to get to their shared bedroom.

Certainly he couldn't go alone though, right? No, that might not be the best way to put it, Tenna was able to recognize pretty quickly that this was a terrific opportunity for him to learn more about Spamton's life. Despite them knowing each other for ten years there was still so much Tenna didn't know about him. He was cagey about his life before they met, tight jawed about what happened after he left, and even now he preferred to be quiet than divulge details about his interests, hobbies and history. 

But this was an opportunity for Tenna to be a part of his world. Even something as simple as attending service with him would be a chance for him to learn more about his partner.

“Well, can I come with you?” Tenna asked, pursing his lips as he pushed the door to their bedroom open. 

Upon hearing this though, Spamton let out a small snicker.

“Very funny, [Cathode]. You don't need to [Fake It Til you Make It] to like my interests,” he muttered, shuffling in and immediately walking over to the dresser.

All of his clothing lay in the bottom drawer. His Saturday best would always be a pair of plain white slacks and a white turtleneck underneath his black Addison’s jacket.

“I'm being serious, Spamton. I do want to go with you. I've… never been to mass before, and I'll be honest I was always curious about it since Toriel was so devout. Please?” Tenna asked once more, his lip turned downward as he shrunk down slightly. 

“Don't get [Glooby] on me,” Spamton said with a lighthearted sigh, gently touching Tenna’s leg before taking off his jacket, “I just don't think you'd like it, [That's All, Folks].”

“Well what makes you say that?” He responds, picking up the jacket and feeling the soft fabric between his fingers.

Since they became residents of Castle Town, Spamton finally managed to get it repaired. Burying the hatchet with Swatch allowed him to finally get it looking presentable at least. The velvet had been renewed to a soft dense pile, the holes and patchwork had been erased and the buttons had been replaced with the original black instead of mismatched pink and gold. Despite all these changes though, he didn't ask for it to be tailored to fit, nor did he ask for the crudely sewn slash across the back to be properly mended. He didn’t even let Swatch ask about why the monogram was incorrect.

“For one, [No One Cares] who you are. You’d just be a [Cathode Screen] in a crowd, and I know that's going to drive you [B-A-N-A-N-A-S],” he mutters, turning around and slipping his arms into his jacket that Tenna held open for him.

“Oh I'm not so sure about that! Maybe it'll be nice being anonymous for once,” Tenna retorts, his smile widening.

“[Don't Kid Yourself], you'd hate it.”

“Okay you're right I love being a somebody but still! Come on, please?” Tenna pursed his lips slightly, beginning to grow smaller with his antennas slumped in front of his screen, “... Please, Spammy? I promise I won't be disruptive. I really do want to go with you, I do want to be interested in what you like. Toriel would read her bible all the time, I want to see why she likes it too…”

Spamton huffed, his gaze shifting over to Tenna while he tried to push the buttons of his jacket closed. The holes had been replaced when the rest of the repairs were made and the new buttons slipped too much between his fingers for him to get a good grip. He could feel his face turning red as he continued, letting out a small grunt of frustration before he felt Tenna's hands wrap around his. At the size he was at no

“... You said yourself it's been ten years since you last went. I know it's selfish, but I would love to see what it's like through your eyes…. I want to experience it for the first time in a meaningful way, with someone that I care about. I promise I won't cause a scene or act out of place, you'll hardly notice I'm there,” he said softly, gently pushing the buttons into their place and shifting away to give Spamton space. 

Tenna did find himself shrinking down just a little bit more. The distinctive smell of gloob wafted in the air, his antennae slumped forward while he pushed his fingers together. 

“Why don't you want me going…?” 

Of course, Spamton rarely fell for his tactics. The mailman simply sighed, looking at him through the mirror as he gently tugged on his sleeve or adjusted the collar of his jacket.

“... I don't want you [Going, Going, Gone!] Because you'll be bored as [#$&!] And I'm going to feel bad about wanting to stay after service,” he retorts, his gaze shifting away from his reflection.

“If I do get bored I know how to entertain myself. Please? I just want to be a part of your life,” he said softly, twirling a lock of his hair around his finger.

Maybe he wasn’t so good at resisting his tactics after all. It was still so hard rejecting Tenna when he went and acted like this. It’s a good thing he loved him, otherwise he probably wouldn’t put up with it. Hearing all he had to say though, Spamton let out a heavy sigh and nodded. 

“.... I can't say no to that [Cathode Screen].”

Tenna let out an excited squeal, his antennas curling together while a flower bloomed from the tip of his nose while he grew back to size.

“Oh thank you so much Spammy! I'm so excited, I hope I like it, though I'm sure I will if Tori did. And you too, of course! Is this okay to wear?” He announced, his screen turning deep pink.

Spamton couldn't help but laugh lightly in response, shaking his head as he scooted a little bit closer to the mirror, turning around to examine the slash down the back of his jacket.

“You can't wear your [On Stage in Five] suit, it's too ostentatious.” 

“Ooh, ostentatious, that's a seven dollar word right there. What should I wear instead? Wait, hold on, is this okay?” Tenna knew that he did have something in a black and white color scheme, he figured it would work considering Spamton’s own chosen colour scheme.

With a glimmer of light, Tenna’s suit shifted to black and white, his tie replaced with a simple black bowtie and a striped boater hat passing though one of his antennas. It certainly was better than the gaudy red Spamton oh so adored, but the bowtie and hat were a little too over the top. So he stood up, gesturing for Tenna to approach the table.

“We keep [Online Chat Room] about getting new matching suits… Maybe they can be more [Highkey Lowkey] than the red. Something to wear off the screen,” He suggested, pulling Tenna’s collar up to remove the bowtie and set it aside.

“Highkey Lowkey, huh? Is that modern lingo or something? Wait hold on don't tell me! Expensive but not gaudy.” Tenna suggested, his lips curling into a smile.

He could smell Spamton’s cologne mixing with the subtle scent of his shampoo. Feeling his dainty fingers carefully fiddle with the collar of his shirt brought a slight pink tint to his screen, reminiscing about all the times he would do this exact thing backstage. Having Spamton tie his ties or fix his suit was always going to be a nice little moment of closeness for him.

“close enough,” he responds with a short laugh, “[Why I Aughta] get a new [Sick Threads] at some point anyway…. I just don't want to [Everything Must Go] of this one.”

“you shouldn't pressure yourself into getting rid of it if you aren't ready. I'll be honest though, I'm a little confused. You never wore this jacket back in the day, what makes it special?” 

“It’s my [All We Do Is Advertise!] jacket,” a short laugh forced its way out of his throat, slowly stepping back taking a gentle hold of the lapel, “Well, not [Genuine Naturally Mined Diamonds For Affordable Prices]...”

Oh look at him go, rubbing his jacket like that. Tenna was quick to notice how tactile he was, even back in their big shot days Spamton had a tendency to touch his jacket to calm down or think. His melancholic laugh led Tenna to believe that he might be thinking of someone in particular, or just something to do with his days as an Addison. Just as he opened his mouth to inquire further, Spamton cut him off with a sharp inhale.

“[By Golly By Gosh] would you look at the [Thyme]! We really need to [Skiddaddle], we might miss service. Come on, [Boob Tube] let's get going,” he muttered, his jaw clattering playfully when he knocked the hat from atop Tenna’s head.

The prince was available long enough to bring Spamton and Tenna over to church. It took no time for Ralsei to fly across the dark world, a pair of pink and gold glasses carefully clutched to his chest with a shrunken down TV clinging to his back. The sight of vast forests of black and grey trees that separated the individual dark worlds swayed almost hypnotically under the three, enrapturing Spamton while he waited for them to arrive at the sanctuary.

The last time he made this trek was with Ralsei as well, carefully tucked underneath his scarf until that wretched ad block prevented him from reaching his destination. As the grand basilica of stained glass and refracted light began to take form over the horizon, there was no strange shift of energy or shields of electrified light that prevented him from passing. 

Ralsei’s feet carefully touched the ground at the entrance to the basilica, carefully setting the glasses down on the stone ground and allowing Tenna to climb down on his back. With a moment to gather his bearings, Spamton returned to his physical form with a satisfied huff as he adjusted his clothing. Tenna did the same, settling the collar of his jacket and adjusting his antennae.

“I’ll be back to pick you up in three hours, do you think that’ll work?” Ralsei asked, letting his hands rest behind his back.

“Yes, thank you, Ralsei! We’ll be back right on time. Golly, this is the first time I travel out of my home world in… Wow, over ten years! This is exciting, I hope I still have that immunity built up! I’m sure I could last more than three hours without turning to stone, though. You’re so lucky you don’t have to deal with that, you can just go to whichever Dark World you want! Oh the opportunities for adventure…” Tenna sighed longingly, earning a small snicker from Ralsei.

“It does have its advantages,” he responds, “I hope you enjoy service.”

And with that, Ralsei turned on his heels and flew off, leaving the two remaining darkners alone at the front gates of the Basilica. This was as close to day as Darkners would ever be able to experience. Trillions of stars shone brightly in the sky above them, an entire galaxy swirling endlessly above and flooding the sanctuary with a cleansing light. Just standing there, breathing in the air seemed to bring Spamton a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in years. While his wooden face was fixed into a permanent, strangely wide grimace, if Tenna looked at him just right he could see that Spamton really was smiling on his own. A warmth radiated through Tenna's chest at the sight before he allowed himself to avert his gaze, instead letting it shift to the pair of doors in front of them. 

They were tall, so much so that they towered over Tenna in a way that made him crane his neck to see the top. Ornate details were carved into the black wood, the light shimmering into the hills and valleys bathing it all in a brilliant blue light. It was beautiful, Tenna thought, a smile curling across his lips as he timidly reached out to touch the door.

“It's stunning,” Tenna began, feeling the wood under his fingers, “massive, too, is the priest a giant or something? Why are they so tall?” 

Spamton laughed. Soft, quiet, in a tone Tenna hadn't heard in over a decade while he set his hands against a door and pushed it open. Despite its size it moved with ease, so light that anyone from the biggest TV Host to the smallest Maus could enter. 

“No, [Cathode]. They're meant to [Awe and Inspire]. When you look up to look at the door, it's like you're walking into the gates of [H E A V E N]... you're walking into the grace of The Angel, and letting yourself be humbled by their grandeur," he explained softly, holding the door open and inviting Tenna to come in. 

Such a nice thought. It certainly felt strange looking up to something for once, but as he walked through the door his gaze fell in the intricate carving of the Delta Rune that hung over the entrance. So that was the angel. Tenna felt a flutter in his chest, suddenly at a loss for words while he timidly pulled the sleeves of his jacket down. He's never felt so small before, but it wasn't as terrible as he would have thought. The building itself looked much bigger than he ever thought possible with high vaulted ceilings and hallways lined with stained glass windows where light from the stars above flooded in to drape the sanctuary in an almost dream-like glow. 

Was this what Heaven was like? Was this warmth radiating from his chest the same thing Spamton felt in this moment? Tenna felt a smile creep across his lips, taking in a deep breath to smell the incense that wafted in the air. Distant bells rang perfectly in tune, some soft and light while others were loud and roared for the listeners attention. Among it all though, was the subtle twinkle of glass and echo of their own footsteps against the stone. 

Just as he was about to speak, ask Spamton a question about the architecture or the brilliant blue torches, his thoughts were interrupted when a line of Mizzles appeared just above the staircase they ascended. With hands clutched together, the choir of water spirits began to chant to welcome them into the sanctuary. Once again, Tenna was awestruck. His mouth hung slightly open, pausing for just a moment to look at the choir. Despite his fear of water (and by extension, Mizzles) he had never felt more at ease. 

“.... It's [Beautiful] isn't it?” Spamton asked, stopping a few stairs ahead of Tenna.

He could only nod, his gaze shifting to the rays of light that filtered from the windows. Spamton let out another soft chuckle.

“Some say The Sanctuary was [Carved] by The Angel themselves. [If We're Being So For Real Right Now]... I think so too. Come on, we’re [Taking Too Long], we might miss the beginning of service.”

Right, they had places to be. The TV skipped a few steps to catch up with Spamton, matching his stride down the hall with his gaze fixed on the windows they passed. All of it was so beautiful in a way he had no idea how to describe, no wonder Spamton liked it so much. Though, as they continued to travel up the stairs, something else gave Tenna pause. Among the floating Mizzles laid an image depicting a castle. It rippled as though it was made of water, the very space around it growing darker until that was all that illuminated the hall. 

It was beautiful, the way it bended light, filling Tenna with a feeling he couldn’t quite place. 

“Hey Spammy, what’s this?” Tenna asked, timidly reaching forward and touching the pane of glass.

He felt a coldness radiate up his arm. Like a running stream of water, but without the threat of electric shock. It felt quite nice, actually, almost peaceful.

“It’s [The Prophecy, Which Whispers Among The Shadows],” Spamton responds, burying his hands in his pockets.

“Well I can see that, that’s what it says up there… But what is it?” He retorts, carefully dragging his fingers down the panel.

“Glass, [I Think, Therefor I Am]. Breaks like it at least. It’s the [Deleted Search History] of our world, every [Minute Rice] detail that leads up to The End. It’s… just glass. Just decoration, let’s [Keep On Keeping On].”

Spamton sighed, his tone laced with sorrow while he turned on his heels to keep walking. The sound was enough to prompt Tenna to keep going as well. He could look at the other pieces of the prophecy on the way back.

Continuing down the hall, Spamton's  steps slowed to a halt in front of another set of doors. This one was much less grand than the main entrance, but still intricately carved with imagery of the Angel. Set up just beside the door were rows of small candles, some alight with blue flames.

“What are these for?” Tenna asked, leaning down with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Prayer,” Spamton began, carefully reaching up to light one of the candles closest to the bottom, “you [Light It Up] to pray for someone you care about, and ask The Angel to protect them.”

There was a sense of melancholy in his voice, a silent sight escaping his lips as he brought his hands together just under his nose. Despite Tenna's best attempts, he just couldn't make out the name Spamton had muttered under his breath. He could tell it was a name though, unaffected by censorship by the district lack of chromatic aberration or crackling as he mumbled. 

“... Who are you praying for?” Tenna asked curiously once Spamton pulled his hands apart.

“... You [Wouldn't] know him,” he said softly, a moment of silence hanging between the two of them before he took a sharp inhale, his shoulders pulling up to the sides of his head, “do you want to try?”

“O-oh. Yes, I suppose I could. You just… light it? And say their name?” Tenna asked timidly, his antennas perking up while he reached for the lighter. 

“That's right. Exactly like I did.” 

Tenna nodded quietly, pursing his lips as he looked over the unlit candles. Settling on one to light, Tenna set the wooden stick against the wick and watched as it became engulfed  in a brilliant blue flame. Would it be unsavoury to pray for someone who was standing right next to you? Or would Spamton appreciate it? Should Tenna be offended that he didn't pray for him? Though the sadness in his voice indicated that whoever he did choose to pray for needed it more than he did. 

After setting the lighter down, Tenna clasped his hands together just under his nose and in a voice as soft and quiet as he could muster, he spoke Spamton's name. 

“... You didn't need to do that,” Spamton muttered meekly, his fingers tangling together.

“Well there's no one I care more about,” Tenna responded with a slight shrug.

Spamton forced out a laugh to hide how he felt, his face turning deep red as he passed a hand through his hair. 

“... [Cathode] you [Really] need to expand your social circle…. What about Kris or [Goat Mama] or [Snow Angel], what about her father? He could use it…”

“Wait, Lightners are an option too?” 

“Of course. The Angel watches over them too. You can light [Only One More Left In Stock!] candle if you want.” 

Just as Tenna was about to reach for the lighter once more, he heard a string of bells sound overhead. This one sounded different than those that rung through the sanctuary, almost as if they had a specific message to convey. 

“Service is starting soon. I'm gonna go inside and get us some seats,” Spamton announced, gently touching Tenna's leg to alert him of his departure before passing through the doors into the chapel. 

Right, they were in a bit of a rush getting here anyway, it was good that they made it to the chapel in time. Tenna was quick to light the second candle, clutching his hands together and whispering Rudy’s name before turning on his heels to step into the chapel as well. 

It was smaller than he expected, with half a dozen pews occupying the space where a few Darkners sat or knelt in prayer while they waited for service to begin. It was all perfectly encapsulated by the just barely audible sound of an organ playing somewhere else. It very well could have been coming from anywhere, spiraling around Tenna's head while he shrunk down enough to comfortably fit sitting next to Spamton. 

The mailman acknowledged his arrival simply by looking up to him for just a moment before returning to his prayers, his hands clasped together just below his nose with his eyes closed. Quickly glancing around the room, Tenna noticed that everyone else appeared to be doing the same thing. He was quick to bring his hands together, his antennae falling forward pensively. Then suddenly, the organ quieted, leaving a moment of near silence.

Welcome everyone. Thank you for coming again today, on this glorious day of days…

Tenna shot right up, his antennae springing upward to try and catch sight of where this voice might be coming from. No one in the chapel was talking, they were all still contemplating quietly while the voice spiraled around their heads. Spamton was quick to notice his sudden excitement, gently nudging his leg to pull his attention over, then signaling for him to quiet down. 

Please stand for the opening hymn…

Every darkner in the room did as they were told, standing up and looking up to the light that shone in from the stained glass window. Tenna followed suit a moment later, his attention snapped to the choir of voices that circled around them. A small cluster of singers, all working together to convey the story of the Delta Rune. Among those voices, just faintly, he could make two out. 

That soft melodic alto voice he's heard time and time again. Every time Toriel washed the dishes or cooked or cleaned, every time she sang a lullaby to Kris and Asriel when they were children, it never failed to lighten Tenna's mood and remind him of her love. 

And then the high Soprano, perfectly controlled despite the youth of the singer. Even when she was just a child Noelle loved to sing, no doubt inspired by her sister. Tenna was beyond excited that he could hear her beautiful voice again, it had been years since she visited the Dreemurr household.

“Spammy!” Tenna whispered, bending down to get as close to Spamton as he could.

Spamton opened an eye and looked over to Tenna, but said nothing in response. He would have preferred if Tenna stayed quiet, but he knew exactly why he was so excited.

“Spammy is that Toriel and Noelle?” Tenna asked, trying his best to keep quiet.

Spamton simply nodded, bringing a finger up to his teeth. 

He could feel himself begin to vibrate excitedly once more, standing right back up with his sights fixed on the stained glass window. He was able to hear the Light World all the time, why was this so exciting? Was it because he could hear Toriel sing? And Noelle? 

Then the hymn came to an end, the priest asking them to sit back down to listen to the first reading. That's when a thought occurred to Tenna. Spamton was a Cyber Darkner with no tangible Light World counterpart. There was no way for him to experience the Light World and the only way the Lightners could interact with him was through a screen. There was no way for him to hear their voices or see their faces, but this chapel was different. Was this the only place he could hear them? The only place he could genuinely experience the Light World in any way? If that was the case, no wonder he was so fond of this place. 

Despite his best attempts to pay attention, Tenna found himself shifting his sights back down to Spamton occasionally. He barely moved since service began, his eyes shut and his hands clasped in front of his teeth. The mailman looked deep in thought, completely focused on the voice of the reader while they spoke of the prophecy and the angel and something or other, truth be told Tenna stopped listening. It was a given that he should have been, but he just couldn't get the thought of Toriel out of his mind. He desperately wanted to hear her singing again, hopefully she would before the end of service.

Then the first reading came to an end. The voice of who Tenna could assume was the priest returned thanking the reader and announcing that he would begin the sermon. 

For the longest time I've relied on the words of my father to convey what we all wanted to hear. But that's not always what you need, is it? My father would say that he saw a blank page as an invitation to write, and that he encouraged everyone else to do the same. Admittedly, I've been afraid of accepting that invitation, as I'm sure many of you have been as well. But today I've decided to pick up that pen and fill that blank page.

Just as I've been reliant on the words of my father instead of accepting the challenge of writing my own, maybe you feel as though you've become reliant on another person's choices instead of making your own. But at what point would that become suffocating?  It's always going to be easy to rely on someone else to say what you should do or where you should go, and while there's nothing wrong with wanting to live a simple life, living for yourself means facing those difficult choices and taking your life into your own hands. 

Tenna could feel Spamton shift next to him, his eyes shut just a little tighter while his chest rose in response to the priest's words. 

You can also hold yourself back with the decisions that you make. It’s always a choice to avoid a challenge, just as it is to accept it. Having a choice means discovering who you are as a person, exploring your own hopes and dreams and rebuilding a life that you could be proud of regardless of what people say. Every worthwhile result comes from facing that challenge head on without waiting for the right time to do it, because truthfully, it’s always the right time…

Tenna felt his chest tighten while he listened to the priest, leaning slightly forward in the pew. His words were quite compelling, and he could tell just how pertinent it was for Spamton. He’d never dare pull attention to it, but he could feel him shaking, hear his breath grow heavy as the priest continued. An entire sermon, presumably the first this priest had written in a long time at least, was about the importance of choice. The very thing that had been robbed from Spamton all those years ago. But now that he had the opportunity to choose once more, this just proved that no matter how terrifying life could become in this new, completely changed world, it was still important for him to be true to himself. Face these challenges and difficulties with his head held high. 

Tenna felt his lips curl into a soft smile, letting his head fall forward slightly to focus on the words that swirled all around him. Such important words spoke to his very being, even if he hadn’t struggled with choice nearly as much as Spamton did he could still understand the importance of what was said. He could still understand the message being conveyed, and he could still choose to follow his advice and push further to explore his own life. Beyond the desires of the Lightners he had grown to love so fondly so that he could begin to truly understand his own life. His own hopes and dreams, his own desires, so that he could live a life of his own.

In the end, it's just as easy and just as important to dictate your own life. It all begins with a single choice to pick up that pen, and write your own story instead of having one written for you. Use your own words, write your own story, and have a life that you love living. 

With this, the sermon came to an end. Both Tenna and Spamton found themselves taking a sharp inhale to calm their nerves, the TV letting his head fall back to look up to the stained glass window and feel the light as it illuminated his screen. The priest continued to speak though, prompting the attendants to take out their books for the second reading. Tales of the Angel approaching prophets with words of good fortune, asking that they spread the word, stories of the titans razing the world in the times long before monster kind, all of it was riveting. Inspiring, even. 

Eventually though, the service came to an end. The small crowd of Darkners rose for the final hymn, Tenna finding himself grinning from one edge of his screen to the other while he focused on the sound of Toriel and Noelle’s voice. Then it all grew quiet once more, leaving the subtle sound of pipe organs and bells as Darkners slowly flooded out of the chapel.  Who should say something first? Spamton still seemed quite fixed on his prayers, his hands still clasped together with his eyes tightly shut. Of course Tenna would want to let him finish before they moved on.

“... So what did you think?” Spamton asked, standing back up and walking back towards the isle, “I like getting scarlixir afterwards, socialize with some of the others. Does that sound like fun?” 

There was a sense of calm in his voice that Tenna hadn’t heard in decades. As if a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders, allowing him to think perfectly clearly. He chose not to pull attention to it though, fearing that if he pointed it out, it would only cause him to think too much about it and cause some sort of nervous relapse.

“Yes, that does sound nice. Lead the way, Spammy,” He said with a kind smile, moving out of the way and gesturing for Spamton to show him the way.

“So… you really did like it?” Spamton asked meekly, his fingers tangled together while he turned to walk down the hallway.

“I did. The readings were interesting and the priest’s sermon was very…” He smiled, pausing for a moment to find the right word, “... Poignant. I can understand why there’s so much media based off this religion.” 

Spamton nodded with a timid laugh, turning once more down a hall lined with book cases. Somehow it felt even more inviting, the stone walkway being replaced with wooden flooring. The smell of a crackling fire and old books wafted through the air, all complemented by casual chatter between darkners of all types while they discussed their lives or the readings of the day. None of these faces looked particularly familiar to Tenna, and a quick glance down to Spamton indicated that they weren’t very familiar to him either. It had been ten years, after all, but that just meant this was an opportunity to make new friends. 

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks, feel free to socialize a bit, I’ll find you right after,” Tenna suggested, reaching down to gently touch Spamton’s shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, sure…. There’s… someone that I recognize over there,” he responds, gesturing over to a large darkner that was notably not attending the service. 

Some massive creature with a carved pumpkin head that swept the floor of the room while others spoke around him. Well, he certainly looked friendly enough despite his size, so Tenna nodded back down to him and smiled as the mailman walked away, heading over to the table and taking hold of two crystalline cups to fill them with the sickly sweet red drink himself.

He would have liked to go back to Spamton as quickly as possible, he certainly looked like he was having a pleasant conversation with his remarkably loud friend, but before he was finished filling the second cup, a turtle approached the table to fill a glass of his own with the silvery liquid of the other bowl. 

“I feel like I would recognize a great big guy like you! Is this your first time visiting the Sanctuary?” He asks, turning to fully face the TV while he rested his weight on his cane.

Tenna looked over, letting out a small hum as he turned as well. He didn’t want to be too big despite the gargantuan nature of the room, choosing to stand just above six feet. Eye level with the old man.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Ant Tenna, it’s very nice to meet you! I’m just here with my partner Spamton, over there. Do you know him? He used to come a lot, years ago,” He says kindly, gesturing over to Spamton while he spoke with his friend.

“That little guy? Never seen him before! If he stopped coming years ago I wouldn’t know him,” He responds with a laugh.

“Oh that’s a shame! I know he really loved it here. Honestly, after attending that service I can see why… The priest’s sermon was very nice, I could tell it really spoke to him. It’s… funny. His first time back in ten years, and he said exactly what Spamton needed to hear,” Tenna smiled softly, bringing the glass up to his nose.

The Old Man nodded slowly, smiling down to his cup of Rapsotea. 

“... Well I’m glad his words spoke to you. So, Mr. Ant Tenna, you’ll have to forgive my curiosity, but why did your friend stop coming if this place means so much to him?”

Tenna smiled as he looked back over to Spamton once more. He could hear him laughing in response to something his friend (fraind?) said, followed promptly by him snapping his fingers to summon an angel that bore his likeness just to show it off.

“Well, he’s a Cyber Darkner, and for the longest time there’s been an ad blocker put in place to keep them out. But-- I think he said his name was Alvin? Alvin Boom? The priest forgot to renew the subscription so we decided to take advantage while we could. Timing couldn’t be better, that’s for sure.”

Just as he was about to continue though, the Old Man laughed.

“Alvin Boom’s a lot of things, but forgetful ain’t one of ‘em! Whatever the reason is for that ad blocker coming down, it’s not because he forgot to renew it.”

Tenna paused for a moment, his lips pursing as he brought the cup to his nose once more. Maybe it fell on someone else’s forgetfulness then? A purposeful choice? It would have been nice to continue the conversation, but before he did, he felt a slight tug on the bottom of his jacket. 

“Oh, Spammy! Done socializing already? Spamton this is- I never actually asked your name, silly me!” Tenna snickered lightly, reaching down to hand him his glass of punch.

The Old Man might have said his name, but he wasn’t paying attention. The sense of melancholy had returned as he brought the glass to his mouth, taking a careful sip to avoid making a mess on the fine wood floors or Heaven forbid his jacket. He’d occasionally look up to Tenna while he and the stranger spoke, occasionally tapping his fingers against the glass to admire the sound and distract himself.

“... It was very nice meeting you, I hope you finish that manuscript soon, I’d love to read it!” Tenna says kindly, giving a final wave to the Darkner while he sets his empty cup in the designated place

Spamton didn’t let go of his, though, watching the final drops swirl around the bottom.

“... Do you want to see it?” Spamton asked once the Old Man left.

“Do I want to see what?” Tenna responds, his head falling to the side curiously. 

“... How you die.” 

Tenna paused, pursing his lips while he let those words mull over in his head. How he died… It must have something to do with the prophecy, he thought; it would explain why Spamton was being so cagey about it, but they hadn’t seen it while they walked through the halls. The sheets of prophetic glass that they passed were all common knowledge, surface level details that everyone knew but none of it seemed as close to home as mentioning Tenna’s death. 

They hadn’t passed it on the way in, which meant they could easily leave once more without seeing it. Spamton certainly knew that, though. And Tenna knew that if he had no interest in showing it, he wouldn’t even have mentioned that little detail. For whatever reason, Spamton felt as though he needed to share it. Maybe to get something else off his back that was related to it. So he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, nodding his head slowly which was promptly reciprocated by the mailman when he nodded and gestured for Tenna to follow him upstairs. 

Past a set of doors pushed off to the side laid a room with the same stone walls and vibrant blue light as the rest of the Sanctuary. Resting in the heart of it all, though, there was a fountain. Cool water fell from the ceiling into a pool of water with coins and bills littering the bottom. It gave Tenna pause, forcing an awkward laugh out of his mouth while he pushed himself tight against the wall to avoid accidentally falling in. It seemed as though that was the right move to make though, once he reached the far wall, he fell through the bricks as if they weren’t even there. 

He felt the back of his head hit the ground first, groaning out in pain and hissing loudly as he pulled himself back up to his feet, the sights of Spamton passing through the wall with ease filling him with a sense of relief that this was supposed to happen. His pains were quickly mitigated by a small angel summoned forth with the snap of Spamton's fingers, allowing the two of them to continue on their walk after a quick apology for the lack of warning.

The lighting had changed somewhat. Everything looked a little more dull and warm toned, but most notably there was no more water in the fountain. The stone statue that previously occupied the far wall had been replaced by a darkner bearing its likeness, and a path appeared to have been opened up behind the fountain.

“... Where are we, Spamton?” Tenna asked, his lips pursed curiously while he followed him to another room.

There laid a path eastward and west, but looking down either direction… They looked like they both went to the same place. They lead to the ceiling? Or was it the floor?

“It’s… Not quite another Dark World, but it’s not the same Sanctuary,” Spamton explained, gesturing for Tenna to follow him while he walked to the next room where cluttered bookshelves lined the walls and floor.

“What do you mean it’s not the same Sanctuary? I-is it safe here?” Tenna asked, earning a small laugh from the mailman.

“As safe as any other Dark World. You hear about pieces of the prophecy that were lost to time and you figure ‘hey, they’re probably hidden around here somewhere’, right? So… we went to a space in between,” He continued, gesturing behind them to signify the wall he and Tenna fell through.

Tenna nodded slowly, continuing to follow Spamton through the path. The sanctuary, now bathed in purplish brown light, certainly did look different. There were some pieces that were completely unfamiliar to the previous layout, but Spamton seemed confident that he knew where he was going so Tenna simply followed. 

“... This is where I came the morning of our anniversary. I was looking for advice from the Angel about what I should do about us, and…. I guess I got that advice from my—” he stopped himself, letting out a heavy sigh as he brought a hand up to the lapel of his jacket. “An old friend. We roamed around here for a bit, and he ended up going to the next room while I hung back to ask a local about where we might find some new info. Heard a crash so I went to investigate, wanted to make sure he was okay, only to find the prophecy that was in the room got smashed. At the time he just told me it was a clumsy accident, I didn’t get the chance to see what it was…. In hindsight, I know he was just trying to protect me. Can’t blame him, I was blubbering about how much I loved you like twenty minutes before!” He forced out another laugh, wrapping himself in a tight embrace as his steps slowed to a halt.

Tenna stopped right beside him, his fingers woven together with his tail fallen limply behind him. The tightness that formed in his chest had begun to eat away at his insides, fighting the urge to scoop Spamton up and tell him that everything was fine. Most of that comfort would probably be for himself but that was besides the point.

“... I came here for guidance. I wanted to know what I should have done about you. About us. Whether I should sign that contract or not. Every step of the way, everything told me that I should sign. That everything would be fine, that whatever happened, we would be able to move past it together. As long as we had each other, we would be fine. So I left the sanctuary, not knowing what the piece of glass right in that room said… I went back to the studio, I signed that contract, and I got that call. Do you want to know why I was so afraid? Why I left in such a hurry and never came back?” 

Spamton took a deep breath, his sights falling upward where the bookshelves that surrounded them faded into inky blackness. Tenna could see the tension in his body, the subtle trembling of pain and fear and heartbreak he had been holding for over ten years. But he still didn’t say anything while he knelt down to set a comforting hand on his back. He could feel the articulative slats that separated his torso through the thick fabric of his shirt and jacket, biting his tongue to try and prevent himself from getting emotional. Most of the time he could handle acknowledging it, but for some reason when Spamton was upset making himself aware of it would break his heart all over again. It hurt to picture it, knowing that it could have been prevented if he wasn't so stubborn about the contract. 

“... He told me your purpose in the prophecy. You were destined to die, Tenna… And he said that if I stuck around, it would be my fault.”

Finally, Spamton took a hesitant step forward. His feet felt heavy, his entire body protesting against him as he walked into the new little alcove of books illuminated by a bright purple slate of prophetic glass glimmering above their heads. 

THE LORD OF SCREENS, CLEAVED RED BY BLADE

So this was it… his own death.

His shoulders began to ache. A subtle throbbing quickly grew into sharp jolts of pain that radiated across his entire body. Every piece of him hurt, practically locked in place as he stared at the glass. The two were quiet for what felt like an eternity, nothing to fill the space beyond the distant echo of percussion and string instruments. Among it all, Tenna could hear the faint hiccuping sobs that Spamton was trying desperately to cover. His own refusal to get tears on his jacket meant that he was using his hands to try and smear it all away, but without anything absorbent it only seemed to make the mess worse. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry-” Spamton’s breath hitched, his hands balling into fists that he desperately pushed against his eyes. 

The force pushed his glasses out of the way, tumbling to the ground with an audible clatter. The feedback loop he found himself in was enough to pull Tenna’s attention away from the glass, allowing himself to collapse to his knees and pull him just a little closer. Not enough to risk overwhelming the darkner, but close enough to let him know that he was there.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, it’s okay, Spammy… it’s okay…” Tenna said, his voice as soft as he could muster as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.

It smelled like him, subtle hints of burning dust mixed with fresh flowers gently set against Spamton’s face to dry the tears that had persistently fallen. Spamton's shoulders fell slightly as he wrapped his hands around the cloth and held it below his nose. He took in deep breaths between his whimpers, allowing himself to breathe in Tenna's scent and remind himself of Heaven.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry…” He squeaked, his entire body trembling.

He would have fallen down if it wasn’t for Tenna carefully moving him to rest on his leg.

“Don’t be sorry, Spamton… none of this is your fault. We couldn’t change what happened to me but look! I’m here now! I’m okay, Spamton… I’m okay because you made me better. You fixed me. This did happen, but I’m okay now, and that’s all that matters. I’m safe, you’re safe, all of this is in the past and we’re both okay,” Tenna said softly, brushing the hair that fell over his face aside. 

His eyes were still shut tight, the cloth held up to his nose while he continued to mouth his apology over and over. His quiet plea was met with another hand carefully brushing against his cheek, the pink and gold glasses set back on his nose with a barely audible clatter. 

“It doesn’t matter what that prophecy says… You don’t need to apologize, Spammy. You did what you thought was best and I can never be mad at you for that. We’re okay…” 

His eyes opened just a crack, his gaze fixed on the ground at his feet while he continued to breathe in the scent of Tenna’s handkerchief. His jaws slowed to a stop, but he kept trembling against Tenna’s bare hands while they caressed his cheeks or stroked his hair. 

“.... What happened to me has nothing to do with you. You didn’t cleave me, you didn’t send the Knight my way. You didn’t hurt me… from the start, Spammy, from the very start you did everything you could to keep me safe. This isn’t your fault…” 

Tenna smiled softly, gently tilting his head up to look him in the eye.

“Hey, look at me, right?” 

Spamton sniffed once more, his eyes slowly opening to look up to Tenna. He had his full attention once more. The brightness of his screen paired with the soft hum that came from his inner mechanisms left him completely blind to the outside world. His trembling halted, his breath calmed as he wiped the last of his tears away.

“You aren’t a bad person, Spamton. You aren’t responsible for this, it isn’t your burden to bear. We know who the real enemy is and it’s not you. This? This right here?” Tenna smiled, a soft laugh forcing its way out of his mouth as he gestured wildly towards the prophecy, “It’s just glass! It’s just just a piece of glass, it doesn’t have any say over what we do with our lives. We have the choice to live our own lives... We don’t need to listen to it, we can make our own choice to persist, to ignore it because in the end that’s exactly what we need to do. We have the choice to write our own story, and that’s exactly what we should do…” 

His words, soft with that hint of hope and love of life that Spamton admired did seem to bring that sense of comfort back. The idea that everything would be okay, no matter how dark the circumstances. His joy truly could be infectious, but he wouldn't be roaring in laughter any time soon. The memory of Tenna’s death and finally getting the chance to properly grieve a man no one remembered made the day much more intense than he would have anticipated. 

Still, Spamton's expression softened, his chest rising and falling slowly as the pixels that broke apart or shifted colours settled back in place. Looking back at the sheet of prophetic glass, Tenna’s sight followed the mailman’s while he pulled him up into his arms. He could feel Spamton's hands ball into fists around the fabric of his jacket while he stared at the prophecy, telling him exactly what he already knew. This very image was ridiculous, and it was just glass. 

Sure it was magical, sure it felt nice to the touch, but there was no reason to keep letting it taunt them.  Screw the prophecy, all it did was upset people. 

“... Do you want to do the honors?” Tenna asked, smiling down to Spamton. 

Oh, he certainly would. With nothing but an eager glance, he pulled his hands apart to reveal a Pipis. Spamton reeled his arm back, adjusting himself in Tenna's grip to get the most power he possibly could, then threw it directly at the prophecy.

 The very moment the Pipis made contact with the glass, it shattered. Hairline fractures spread from the impact zone before it's own weight forced the image to collapse on itself and fall to the ground. A horrid cacophony of off pitch chimes and clattering glass sounded when the pieces collided with each other until it had all fallen completely still on the hard wood below their feet. The room itself had grown darker as a result of the prophecy being broken, leaving the tall book shelves and shards of sparkling glass illuminated only by the bright light of Tenna's screen. 

Spamton could feel a lightness wash over him once that unnatural purple light vanished, his eyes fixed on the glass that littered the floor. There was no fanfare, no indication that anything particularly important had taken place at all. But when his eyes landed on the Pipis, still perfectly intact on top of the shattered prophecy, he knew that what happened was indeed noteworthy. 

“... [Let's Blow This Joint], [Cathode],” Spamton mumbled contently, resting his head against Tenna's chest while he stroked the soft velvet of his Addison's jacket. 

The ride home was swift without any hiccups or bumps that might have caused difficulties. The Prince had been able to meet them right on time, flying back wordlessly after the initial question of “how did it go” with Tenna providing all the details he felt were necessary. He didn’t need to know about their little side quest after all.

Regardless, the adventure had exhausted Spamton in a way he never could have imagined. It wasn’t an issue with petrification, but practically as soon as they emerged from the sanctuary, he had decided that the day had been far too exciting and he wanted to spend the rest of it sleeping. So that’s what he did, vanishing into his glasses that were carefully tucked into Tenna’s breast pocket. Feeling the warmth of his body, listening to his inner mechanisms whine and hum to protest their age, he had been put completely at ease. All there was left to do was alert Blockton that they were done and that the barrier could be raised once more. 

Traveling eastward, Tenna was quick to approach the booth that most of the Addisons shared. 

“Blockton,” Tenna began, his hands clasped behind his back.

His voice caught the Yellow Addison’s attention, the conversation he held with the other Addisons halting.

“Mr. Tenna, you’re back. How did it go?” He asks, turning around fully and leaning against the booth.

“It went very well, thank you for asking. Well, I just wanted to let you know we’ve gotten back and you’re free to raise that barrier again.”

“Thanks for letting me know. Where’s Spamton? Is he… okay?”

“He’s fine, just resting,” Tenna said, gently patting his chest to signify where the mailman was sleeping, “And, Blockton?” 

His voice was assured, his lips tightening to a straight line as he looked down to the Addison. A moment of silence hung between the two of them with Blockton patiently waiting for him to continue his thought. His expression was soft, far from the antagonism Blockton usually heard from the TV.

“Thank you,” Tenna said knowingly, slowly nodding his head.

Blockton simply hummed, waving his hand dismissively.

“... Yeah, don’t mention it.” 

All the work was done. Full discussions over the events and topics of church could wait until tomorrow when Spamton was less overwhelmed, for now the glasses had been carefully set down in bed with the thick downy blanket half covering them to keep him warm.

Tenna wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep just yet, though. His mind still raced, trillions of electrons all firing off at once and making his screen glow brighter than before. The Sanctuary truly was a beautiful place. He could still faintly smell the incense wafting across his nose, still hear the church bells and the choir, he could see those beautifully bright stained glass windows. He could feel the prophecy under his fingers and see those shards fall to the ground like the hollow image it was. 

He had been cleaved just as the prophecy foretold, but that wasn’t the end of his story, his destiny. Not anymore at least. Tenna’s gaze fell back on Spamton’s glasses, lovingly tucked into bed, the light of his screen glinting off the lens and reflecting a soft golden light onto the bookshelf tucked away against the back wall. Why not contribute to those stories? Wasn’t that what Father Alvin encouraged him to do?

Tenna’s smile softened once more, grabbing the blank notebook from the shelf and getting himself comfortable in bed. 

January 9th, 201X,

I got to see how I died today. It's funny that something supposedly written in stone was so easy to break.